𝓟𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻
𝟻𝟼: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑It's been two days.
It's been two days since Reggie shot both Adelaide and Brody in my bedroom at my apartment following our abduction.
It's been two days since I've been rendered to an irritable, stubborn, begging mess.
Fortunately for Brody, the bullet had not penetrated any major artery or blood vessel or organ. Due to the monumental blood loss, however, as he had been the first to be shot and we had to wait longer for the cops to call an ambulance, it was critical. His body paled as blood marred my hands and my own clothes. One thing I was adamant not to touch, having to remind myself each time I went to perform the mannerism, was my baseball cap I had been donning. The black one with the small rose embroidered on the front.
It was also the baseball cap I was still wearing.
Somewhere in my mind, I sentimentally believed that wearing it would bring Adelaide back to me. It was a good omen for me. I had to keep wearing it until she was back with me. Even when I was demanded to go home by Brody after wallowing in his company and he was becoming fed up of my pitiful attitude, I quickly showered, washed my hair, and changed before that baseball cap went straight back on my hair.
While Brody had woken up yesterday after almost twenty-four hours of being unconscious, Adelaide was yet to wake yet.
Her bullet had managed to penetrate her lung. She had, what the doctors ceaselessly threw around, pneumothorax. Air was seeping into her lung and collapsing it which meant that it also failed to expand whenever she attempted to breathe. She then had hypoxia—a lack of oxygen. Tears brimmed shamelessly in my eyes as I was sandwiched between my best friend and the girl I loved who had both been shot.
One officer had been on the phone to the ambulance, being instructed on what to do. She'd been spluttering so they pressed another towel against her wound and turned her on her side with the wound closest to the ground. They murmured something about gravity keeping the lung open. Another officer was pressing a towel into Brody's wound. He groaned and hissed as the officer pressed down against it.
For both of them, the first few hours seemed immensely touch-and-go. Brody required a blood transfusion imminently while Adelaide had a chest tube inserted into her. We weren't authorised to see them for hours, having to loiter infuriatingly in the waiting room. Asher and Verity ended up joining us, Asher in hysterics and Verity close to tears herself. The six of us didn't speak until Brody's parents and Adelaide's parents were notified and their presences broadened the group further.
Reggie had been arrested and Chad handed his phone over with explicit instructions to listen to the recording that encapsulated the confession. Then I announced that the gun used to shoot Brody and Adelaide belonged to me and he had stolen it. When taking my statement, they questioned me in regard to my gun. I told them the location where it had been stored, off-site to my apartment. I also told them I had never used it. I showed them the official documentation for owning it, though they were admittedly curious why a twenty-one-year-old would require a gun.
"Can this please be kept between us?" I asked, referencing my gun. "Can that not be leaked to the public?"
The detectives who took my statement glanced at each other with subtle nods. The main one who had salt-and-pepper hair and a shirt that was much too tight for him approved of my request. "We'll keep it our secret as long as it never becomes evidence in a future crime, and you tell us everything and then we'll accept your request. Deal?" he asked, holding his hand out.
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YOU ARE READING
Bad Boy by Night
Mystery / Thriller"Mess with my girl and I'll fucking kill you." Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.