Caedes

12 | calm down

Thursday, 2:41 P.M.

It didn't hurt. In fact, I barely felt it. Could've been the drugs, but someone should seriously teach the poor guy how to punch. This was embarrassing.

"I'd say you punch like a girl..." My voice sounded muffled and weak, but I couldn't resist pissing him off even more. "But I don't wanna insult any—"

His fist connected with my jaw again. This time I tasted blood. Slightly better, but still lacking. If my hands weren't cuffed, I could show him how to punch even in my half-drugged state.

"Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit." He didn't sound so confident anymore.

This time I simply laughed. The longer I caused a distraction, the more time I had to clear my head and regain control over my limbs. Taking a hit or two was a low price to pay, especially from someone like him. Weak ass bitch.

Considering I could speak cohesively—mostly—I was already feeling better. Whatever they'd given me, it was wearing off much faster than expected.

Lucky me.

Having separated himself from the stretcher, the other officer finally intervened as the paramedic swung again. He grabbed him from behind and the two were momentarily locked in their own battle of tug-of-war. I hadn't thought it was possible, but the cop's face turned an even darker shade of red. Almost like an overripe tomato.

The officer who'd previously been talking to the paramedic rushed forward and separated the two. Unlike his colleagues, he kept his cool.

Well, you're no fun.

"Calm down," he told the infuriated men.

This man's voice left no room for negotiation. Considering the way his wary eyes were trained on me, he likely saw right through my plan. So far, he'd been the only police officer who hadn't been intimidated by me. In a twisted way, that made me respect him a little. I studied him for a moment before my eyes landed on the paramedic once more.

The way the man's eyes widened when he noticed my death glare was more than a little satisfying.

Not so tough now, are you?

He was the reason Mike was dead. It was his fault. Sure, he didn't cause the violent outburst, but he was still responsible. He'd been the one to call the cops because I'd scared him. Because he thought there was something wrong with me—that I'd killed Annabelle and her husband. That was why Mike was now dead. It was his fault that instead of saving the intern, the cops had focused on incapacitating me.

Mike was innocent, as innocent as could be. There was no doubt about it. He'd been the only one who hadn't lost his mind and attacked those in close vicinity like a total maniac. Yet, he'd had to die just the same. And just like that, the rage was back full force.

As if he could feel my burning gaze, the paramedic looked anywhere but directly at me. He was scared, and rightly so. If I wasn't drugged out of my senses, he would no longer be standing.

As I was contemplating all the ways to maim his guilty ass, the officer in charge turned to his colleague and nodded at me, and said, "Get him out of here, right now."

"Yes, sir," Officer Tomato replied, straightening to his full height.

Before I knew it, I was dragged down the surprisingly empty corridor, away from the paramedic and Nurse Nutcase, who I could still hear lamenting just around the corner. This time I didn't resist. There was no point in putting up a fight now in my state, but that didn't mean I'd hesitate to smack Officer Tomato over the head and make a clean getaway at the next best opportunity.