Tats Too by Layce Gardner

Author:Layce Gardner [Gardner, Layce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781594932915
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2012-05-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I know I’m in heaven because I hear angels singing. I float on my back and tune-dial my ears until the voices come in clearer. Angels sing something about teaching the world perfect harmony.

I’m craving a Coke.

My eyelids pop open. I’m not in heaven. I’m in a hospital bed with TV sounds drifting in from somewhere down the hallway. And what I really want is a Dr. Pepper. And a cheeseburger.

“And that’s number ten on our list of top twenty music moments that rocked television. Number nine coming up right after this commercial break.”

I sit up and my brain spin-cycles, knocking inside my head like an overloaded washing machine. I plop back down and close my eyes.

A tube bites into the top of my right hand. And another tube is sinking its teeth into my you-know-where and not in a good way either. I use my left hand to yank them both out.

Better.

Where’s Vivian?

I open my eyes, but this time I sit up slower. I must still be drunk on that cheapo tequila present from Mikey because my brain’s all foggy soggy and I have to double-concentrate to make my body parts obey.

Where’s Vivian?

The bed next to me is empty. The blinds are drawn but I can see light behind the slats so I must’ve done some sleeping since the wreck.

A nurse bustles in, cooing stuff like “Lay back down, honey, you shouldn’t have pulled those out, that’s a naughty girl” and other shit I don’t listen to.

My words grate out through coarse sandpaper lips, “Where’s Vivian?”

“Who’s Vivian?” she asks, gently pushing me back onto the bed.

“The woman with me,” I say. “The other woman in the wreck. She bailed off the back of my bike. Where is she?”

“There was nobody with you, honey. It was just you and the trucker, but he escaped with just few bruises.”

“Vivian,” I mumble, pushing the nurse back and sitting up. I jump to my feet but have to grab the bed so I don’t fall. “Vivian was behind me. Where is she?”

“Sit back down,” she says firmly, grabbing me under the arms and trying to get me back in bed.

I push her and she stumbles back. “Where the hell is Vivian?”

I can hear the hysteria in my voice and it expands inside me, fills me up like a helium balloon. I float for the door, bouncing off the bed, chair and walls, yelling, “Vivian? Where’s Vivian?”

The nurse grabs me by my hospital gown, tugging on me, but I keep going, dragging her down the hallway with me one slow foot after the other, still screaming, “Vivian!”

The hall fills up with people, all of them in green or white, all of them trying to grab me. I ricochet off hands and chests and bellies, flinging my arms out each time I almost fall, and I never stop screaming for Vivian.

And then I start hallucinating big time because I see Chopper. He saved my life one other time, back when I got shot trying to rescue Vivian from that bastard, Prince Charles.

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