Heal Me

Chapter Nineteen

Mr. Burly - the very thug from whom we were trying to save our hides - was standing right in front of us. And staring at us as though without memory of having broken into our apartment and grabbing me by the neck only two days prior.

How the heck did something like this even happen?

"This isn't a place for little girls!" He yelled at us. "How did you get into the closet, anyway!?"

"We sawed through the dead-bolt," I quipped in, without thinking.

He didn't seem to hear me, though, as he patted each of us down in search of weaponry. We were all too shocked to deny the intrusion on our privacy, and he was too clumsy to notice the bulge in my boot. The only thing he deemed worthy to confiscate was a lone bullet from Sarah's pocket - a memento from our visit with Rocky. He held the tiny piece of metal up to the yellow light as though seeing such a thing for the first time in his life, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from explaining what it was.

Sarah shrugged guiltily for her kleptomania. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to-"

But he didn't care about her explanation. "What is this? Planning to shoot someone?" he asked, cutting her off.

Sarah could only whimper in reply, eliciting a half-hug from Cat. The two of them seemed to be shaking a little. I hastily searched around for an escape while Burly continued to interrogate poor Sarah about what she planned to do with a bullet. A bullet without a gun, which I kept my mouth shut about.

"You even know where you are? You can't carry weapons down here unless you're big time!" He spat both words and moisture into Sarah's face – causing her to jump a little – before pocketing his loot and taking a step backward to better see the three of us. An intense scowl graced his wide forehead, the same oppressive demeanor I remembered from the other night. And there was something else – confusion. For whatever reason, he seemed uncertain about how to respond to our presence. "Are you big time?" he mocked.

When nobody flexed or flashed a gold tooth to prove how 'big time' we were, I nudged Catrina. "This is all you, Cat." You and Rocky. Decidedly, both would be to blame if I ended up as dog meat tonight.

"Cat, hu?" Burly looked suddenly intrigued. "How come you look so familiar?"

"Seriously? You have GOT to be kidding me." The words were out before I could stop their escape. I was too stunned by his ignorance to quell my verbal rage. Was he toying with us? Cat's hand rested on my shoulder, probably to keep me from saying anything that might get us murdered. But I brushed it away. "Alzheimer's much?"

"You're a sassy one," he informed me like it was news.

"And you're a moron," I countered icily. "You broke – into – our - apartment! I cannot believe you don't remember!"

"That ain't what I was talking about. I full remember breaking your locks and wrapping my hand around your skinny little neck. Do you?" he asked, reaching for me a second time in as many days.

I started to wonder if this would be the time he crushed my windpipe. Then I wondered if a person could actually die of a crushed windpipe. Then I wondered if he was strong enough to break my neck, because that was surely fatal. Then I thought about all the blood and how Sarah had a weak stomach... The entire picture wasn't very pleasant. Fortunately, before he could grab me, Sarah jumped between us and shouted in panic.

"Rocky sent us!" she blamed.

He paused mid-stride. "Rocky? Rocky sent you?"

"Yeah," Sarah gasped out. "He said it would be fine. He told us to ask for Samuel..."