CHAPTER17
Isped through the gates and down the driveway slamming on the brakes like a man possessed. All that mattered right now was getting her the help she needed. As soon as I knew she was okay, I could give my anger free reign.
My family was one step behind us as I ran up the steps with my bundle in my arms. She felt so fucking light. Suzette was a small girl; to begin with, she couldn't afford to lose the weight she had.
My dad tried taking her from me, but I wasn't having that shit; I followed him to the makeshift emergency room he kept on the first floor, cradling her against my chest. I saw Connie out of the corner of my eye with little Jonathan. Obviously, she had stayed behind when the others had followed after me.
There was a madhouse of activity as mom helped dad set up the room; I laid her down on the bed and gently removed the blanket from around her; the sight of my favorite black hoodie swallowing her slight frame damn near broke me. I had to close my eyes against the sight.
"Okay, son, let me look at her now, you want to step outside, or do you want to stay in here? If you are going to stay, you're going to have to stay out of the way." I didn't say anything, just walked over to the window and stared outside as they got busy behind me, tending to her.
It was more than an hour later when dad was finally satisfied that he'd done all he could.
"It looks like a case of dehydration, exhaustion, and not enough to eat, nothing too major. I started an IV. That's about all we can do until she wakes up, but I think she should recover no problem physically speaking, mentally, now that might be another story."
I heard the door close behind him as I stood still before the window; her father and brothers had arrived not too long after we had, but I didn't go see about them; my brothers or sisters would see to them. I wasn't feeling very sociable; I flexed my fingers to relieve the pressure of having them clenched so tight for so long.
There was a new type of anger brewing inside of me, anger at this fucked up situation, anger at that fuck Terry Poole, anger at her for putting us in this place that we were in, and now anger at myself.
I should've known something like this would happen, I knew her weaknesses, and I'd made things worse for her by shutting her out cold. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? I'm the injured party here. There were no fucking winners here, except that fuck who was free to walk the streets of LA without a fucking care in the world while the victims of his fuckery suffered.
With one last look at her, I stormed out of the room with one purpose in mind payback, it was payback time, and I was going hardcore all the fucking way. I met Brian coming out of the study, where I could hear dad talking to the Sorensons.
"Get James on the phone; I want to know everything he knows so far; it's time for action."
Brian clapped me on the shoulder and went to do what I asked; my family knew not to fuck with me when I got like this. I was a fucking beast when riled, and I was past motherfucking riled. I was Al Pacino circa 1970, the fucking Godfather pissed; I didn't have five families to eliminate just one fucking cockroach. If that weasel fuck knew what was coming his way, he would run and hide; I was about to go Michael Corleone on his motherfucking ass. Fuck with me at your own peril.
"James is on the line, bro."
"Let's do this."