Oliver lights a cigarette as he approaches the door, while I trail behind him, trembling my ass off.
Before he could take a puff, the wind picks up and blows out his cig.
"Shit." He pulls out his lighter and attempts to relight it. As I wait behind him, I see some disfigured movement through the broken shutters. Shouldn't be here, shouldn't be here! I think, though I'm not sure if I'm directing that towards myself— or whatever's behind those shutters.
Okay, get this: instead of knocking or opening the door, he moves it. The door, off it's hinges, is nonchalantly placed to the side.
I shiver as I peer into the 'hospital'.
A full coat hanger is the only thing that isn't damaged. A dim, wooden hallway recedes into the distance. I squint. Do I see curtains down there?
And it smells hands-down illegal.
Oliver takes a step inside, and the floorboard croaks loudly.
A boom sounds somewhere near. Very near.
I yelp, jumping behind Oliver.
He turns to me, annoyed. Blowing hair out of his eyes, he assures, "They just dropped something."
"W-Who's they?" I whisper.
A string of cursing follows two men as they approach us from the hallway. My hands ball into fists.
"Leave the cooking to the fucking Italian, you butterfingered cunt— oh, you're here!"
The first man blocks the view of the entire hallway, he's so obese.
"I brought a friend." Oliver motions behind his back at me.
"Lemme look at her up close."
No, no, no!
He looks down at me, his black eyes showing no favor, one way or another. He looks me up and down, then back to my face again.
Then, his face seems to light up in recognition.
"You're a Montague too! I've seen those features before," he remarks proudly.
The other guy pushes his glasses up his nose, looks at Oliver, and states, "She's allowed."
I'm intrigued. "How did you know I was—"
"Welcome, little Montague. Welcome." The large man chuckles, whereas I notice his mustache hairs enter his nostrils.
His scrawny assistant holds out a clammy, bruised hand, which I don't take.
"You're looking for Rico, little Montague? Well, let me indroduce ourselves first. I'm Fozzy, and over there— is Skunk."
The assistant scowls, his hand still held out. "It's not Skunk, it's Kirk."
Fozzy laughs. "Pay no mind, Skunk. They're simply aliases."
With his harsh grip, Oliver pulls me in front of him. Both Fozzy and Kirk stare at me strangely.
I try to look tough, furrowing my eyebrows.
They both snicker at me, mouths wide open. "You good, little Montague?"
Hey, I've eaten grapes at the store before buying them. Don't mess with me.
I mean, that Fozzy dude doesn't look like he's eaten a single fruit in his lifetime, so I don't think he'd understand the utter savagery.
Kirk motions for us to follow them.
We advance through the winding hallway, and indeed, two 'hospital' curtains hang on either side of the end of the hallway.
A dusty picture frame of someone eerily familiar hangs, lopsided on the back wall. I avert my eyes. I don't want to recognize them. Things that I don't need to discover.
Kirk turns to Fozzy and whispers, "Which one is Enrico in?"
Fozzy thinks. "Rico must be behind the one on the the right."
Kirk slides the right curtain open, and we all realize... that wasn't Enrico.
"EEEEK!!!" I scream, jumping behind Oliver for the millionth time.
An shriveled figure lies in the bed, skin plastered with purple sores. Their facial expression looks... dead.
What— or who, is that?!
Oliver quickly closes the curtain, shuddering himself.
"Uh, left. On the left." Fozzy rubs his temple with his meaty hand.
Kirk slides the other curtain across, and there lies Enrico, paler and bonier than usual.
The makeshift hospital bed props him up, and a relatively clean IV tube connects to his wrist. His eyes are closed peacefully.
Enrico stirs in the bed, muttering, "...Who?"
His voice is raspy and deeper than usual.
"It's me, Summer. I came here to see you."
He looks at me sleepily and smiles humorously.
"You've gained weight." He turns into his side and sighs flamboyantly.
"Meanwhile, you're humbling Eugenia Cooney by the day." I snort.
He closes his eyes, a small, soft grin on his face. "Your replies have gotten better."
Affection bubbles in my chest.
Fozzy perks up as he recalls something. "I'm cooking my famous Armadillo Caviar for you to eat. Skunk and I will be back soon."
"But, armadillos give live birth?" Enrico raises an eyebrow.
Fozzy turns to me. "See, this is why he's so skinny. He never eats my cooking because he doesn't simply believe in it. Let's go, Skunk."
"It's Kirk," he seethes, following Fozzy back into the hallway and out of my sight.
"So, how'd you get out of the real hospital?" I cross my arms.
"It's a long story." He shuts his eyes.
"Also, who's paying for that?" I point to the IV tube and monitoring machines.
Oliver clears his throat. "Actually, Anna just paid for all the hospital fees. Here, everything's free."
I freeze. The janitor... paid his hospital bill?
The sum had to be at least $10,000, and they would call that a bargain.
"She wouldn't talk to anyone, though. Kind of strange, since she always has a sharp tongue."
I feel like I'm gonna throw up whatever guilt would look like.
Enrico snuggles into the off-white covers and looks up at Oliver, as if he were a puppy. Oliver in turn rubs Enrico's head as he continues to speak.
Oliver sighs. "And on top of all of that, she has to testify to our employers on Thursday."
Wait.
I raise an eyebrow as I realize something.
Oliver referred to the Janitor's employers as 'our'.
He has the same transmitter type as her.
He even calls her Anna.
"...You're an assassin too, aren't you?"
Oliver's eyes widen.
Then he smiles.
"You figured it out, huh?" he shrugs solemnly, knowing that nothing else had to be said.
No way.
He licks his lips, visibly and suddenly nervous.
"Actually I need to get this off my chest now, so I'll say it." He sighs.
"Say what? That you're an assassin?" I laugh, but he doesn't laugh with me.
"I was originally signed the task to kill your mother." He blurts, flinching.
"...Y-You're kidding right?" I laugh stiffly.
He looks back at me, not in the least facetious.
I clench my fists. Just look at the floor, don't think about it. Don't think.
Enrico comments, "You should've kept that to yourself."
"I wasn't the one who killed her, so it's okay. There's no reason to get so pissed."
"If it's okay," Enrico mocks his words, "why was it weighing on your chest?
He looks at him, an indescribable expression crossing his face.
"It's because of the reason I wasn't actually assigned the job."
I stay silent, as red flashes behind my eyes. Enrico sighs, obviously uncomfortable.
"...Summer, do you know why our eyes are shaped the same?" Oliver crosses his arms.
I stare into his, slightly confused.
"...Why we both have that signature jawline? Do you know why I knew your name long before you remember meeting me?"
" I-I'm not related to an off-brand Zayn Malik." I snort, trying to brush off his words, but I'm close to breaking down.
"Sorry, but... you're one of us. Don't be a coward to learn who you are. Even Fozzy could tell—"
"Can you learn to shut up?! Look at the poor thing." Enrico rolls his eyes.
I can tell he's staring at the tear that's fallen down my cheek. I quickly wipe it off.
"Since when did you care about other's feelings, Enrico?" Oliver spits.
"Since you turned into a stinking asshole. That's when."
Oliver takes his hand of off Enrico, irritated, and motions to the IV tube connected to wrist. "Don't say that when I can pull the plug right n-"
I slap Oliver, right across the face.
He stares at the ground blankly, frozen.
I can't take this. I'm waiting outside in that creepy-ass hallway until we leave, for all I fucking care.
Oliver should keep his mouth shut.
As I slide the curtain open, I hear him mutter quietly, "Yeah, I should."
I said that out loud? Oh well, too late now.
I plop down against the wall. I should've just stayed home with Luna.
Home? Why did I refer to that place as home?
I guess it feels like it by now. I wonder, is Luna worrying about me, or does she not care that I'm gone?
Don't bullshit yourself, I think to myself. She loves you.
~-~
Oliver and I didn't talk to each other the whole night. I didn't talk to Fozzy or Kirk, either. Weirdos.
I only opened my mouth to say goodbye to Enrico.
I didn't speak, even when Oliver took me home.
I shut the car door without a word. Rude of me, but I couldn't care less.
~
I take the elevator upstairs. It's like, 6AM right now, and I've just arrived. I haven't seen Luna yet, so she must be in her room.
I open the door to our room quietly, and find Luna sleeping on the bed. The bed was still made , which means she probably didn't mean to.
After all, she was drunk last night, I remember, smiling at her adorable sleeping face.
I just want to sleep too.
I want to forget that crackhouse and everything in it.
I lift Luna's arms around my shoulders, and lie next to her on the bed, curled up next to her. I rest my head on her breasts, making a nice little pillow for myself.
And there I just cry.
Into her shirt silently, until the calming scent of vanilla lulls me to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~❦~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Okay, I didn't end on a cliffhanger for once. Happy?😂
I think you're going to enjoy the next chapter. (But the best chapter will be the one after the next chapter, you got it?😛)
PSST. Below is a sneak peek of the cover for my next book, Glacé. I'm currently working on the story.
What do you think? Tell me in the comments, please!
( I will not put "Ourinnocentsin" like that on the cover version, cause covers are harder to steal )
And a vote would be awesome, you're the best. Haha, see you soon💘.