Episode 18| Boys in Blue

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Bryce's P.O.V.

A splash of orange engulfed me into a world of color and unsettling commotion. Bright blues, vibrant reds, and lively yellows dotted my splotchy vision. The people I heard, speaking around me, hit my eardrums like waves against a shoreline -waning and waxing, and then reemerging at a piercing volume.

I couldn't sift through the orchestra of voices that played inharmoniously into my ears. They melded together as one continuous string of music, pulsing with the blossoming hues behind my eyelids.

Pain sprouted from the base of my back, spreading fast up to my shoulders. The vibrant shades dulled into a deathly black while the ache intensified in my arm.

The tireless ruckus sheltered in my mind hushed into selective strands of sound - making it much easier to decipher them. There were short snippets that I caught on to.

"He was okay last night -"

"Did you call his mother and-"

"No, I can't. She wouldn't care. I did call -wait. He's waking up."

The dark tent at the edges of my vision faded, abandoning the bleakness, and absorbing the colors of my setting. The sight was blurry, distorted. I readjusted my eyes on the shadow that leaned over me.

"How are you?" Kelsey hovered at the end of my bed. She didn't get close. "You look better."

I patted the spot below my shoulder where the stinging pain originated from. A wide, blood-stained bandaged wrapped my bicep. "You sure I look better?" Shivers shot to my toes as I raised into a sitting position. "Where am I? What went down, Conner?"

Conner backed off the railing and pushed his knuckles up to his lips. He briefly glanced at Kelsey. She silently nodded and exited the room, understanding what that look meant. "How much do you remember?"

"Not much. I remember...driving to the spot," I said, groggily. "Then there was a girl...and that's where things start to get fuzzy."

"The girl's name is Audrey," he filled in. "Her crew broke in and sucked us dry of all our stuff. I got a few of her guys and so did you."

"Is she dead?"

"Nah." He sighed, studying the floor. "She got away. The gun I took from one of her guys didn't have that many bullets. When she heard the empty click, she elbowed me in the nose and ran away. I heard their car drive off a little while after."

Perfect. Another enemy.

"Where am I?" I asked again, rubbing my face from its sleepiness. "You didn't say."

"You were bleeding bad." He continued. "I didn't have much of a choice. I know you hate it, but I had to. You're in a hospital."

"Why the hell would you take me to a hospital?" I raged, clinching the sky-blue bedsheets. "I don't care if I was dying. What did I tell you, Conner? Don't, under any circumstance, take me to a hospital."

I had so many police department heads, itching to pin something on me. They didn't have any dirt on me, so for the most part, I walked out clean of any crimes. Back in New York, dad's well-trained lawyers defended me when things went far enough to reach the court system. I was safe...until they stopped defending me.

"I gave them my name, my information. I said you were Conner Blackwell and that I was your brother." He whispered. "I didn't give them your name. They won't know you were even here. Trust me."

"And what did you say? That I accidently shot myself?" I fumed. "Cops are probably crawling all over the scene, counting bodies and trying to connect the dots. They're going to find out."

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