In Too Deep

Twenty Four

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Nova drummed her left foot on the ground, flipping through the pages of the magazine she had selected from the wall rack near reception, and it was not because she was interested in it; she wanted to give herself something to do. Something to ponder over. Occasionally, she would glance at the other people occupying the blue plastic chairs, mulling over them, and even that didn't help her.

She turned back to stare at the wall in front of her. Her chest felt as if a million pounds were settling right on top of her heart. It had been more than thirty minutes since she had been sitting here, waiting. She was never good at waiting or good at keeping herself calm.

"Hey." Someone touched her shoulder, getting her attention. Vicious stared down at her before he grabbed her arm and helped her up, far away from the other people, until it was just the two of them. "What the fuck happened?" he instantly questioned, green, forest eyes darker than its original color.

Right. He had no idea what happened. When she called him, she forgot to explain and instead, told him where she was. There had been no time to explain. Nova pressed her lips, staring at him.

"Someone, please help!" she screamed. It was a petrifying sound that was filled with panic and fear. The sirens were loud now, close. The noises were louder, but she didn't let it fade from her mind. The unconscious man in front of her was her priority.

Someone squatted next to her. She didn't look at him. She knew who it was, and if she looked now, then he might read the truth in her eyes. "What happened, ma'am?"

"He just came..." She hiccuped, as more tears emerged from her eyes. "We were just talking about celebrating our anniversary today, and—" A choke caught in her throat. "He came out of nowhere and tried to take our car. Owen fought with him, but he hit him in the head, and now he won't wake up. I don't know if he's breathing, or if he's..."

She cradled Screw's head in her lap. The passenger window of the car was shattered, and the pieces of the glass were scattered around. She was touching his arm, his face; she was leaning to check his pulse, and she was crying hysterically. It was a lot of work, and surprisingly, the tears came as quickly as she didn't think they would. All she had to do was think of all the emotional stress she had been through, and it flooded her face like Niagara Falls.

"Ma'am, please...."

She suddenly grabbed the officer's arm. "Tell me you will catch him!" she demanded, looking every bit like a real terrified girlfriend. Maybe she should consider theater. "Look at the cameras! Find the person who did this to my Owen." The first thing she had done was to make sure there were no cameras in the garage, and there were none, so the police wouldn't be able to see their attacker because there was no attacker.

Well, except she was the attacker. Maybe the police were a little smart; they would realize the people they were here for were the ones they were helping get out of the mess.

Vicious snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. "Nova? What happened?"

Her pulse spiked higher, anticipation building, feet and shoulders braced as she unconsciously slipped into a defensive stance. She didn't know how he would react to the whole story. Oh, I just hit one of your guys, and I don't know if I hit him hard enough to cause damage, but at least we aren't going to jail. Right?

"What can I say," a voice spoke from behind. Nova went stiff, silently cursing herself before forcing her posture to ease. And when she saw him, a bandage wrapped around his head, she felt her spine ease because he was alright. He was up and walking again. When the doctor had not said anything to her, she had feared the worst. There was a familiar gleam in his eyes when Screw continued, "She saved my life; that's what happened."