“Why don't you go do what you gotta do and then piss off?” I ask her when her attention gets a little too focused on Ronnie's chest. I'll admit, the man's cleaned up good in the last few weeks. When we first started the tour, he was a grubby little thing with bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. Sure, he still had a handsome face but it was hidden under all that sour. Now, he's dressed up nice, smells clean, expression clear. I can't take all or even any of the credit for that, but I would like to take a piss on him and let the world know that at least for now, he's mine.
“I don't tolerate rudeness,” Nurse Dina sniffs, running her hands down the front of her scrubs. She's such a tightwad bitch, I think she'd look more at place in one of those old fashioned nurse's outfits, the pink ones with the short skirts they used to wear way back when. The woman can't be a day over thirty, but she acts like my dead grandma – only twice as stiff.
“How's this for rudeness?” I ask when she jerks an IV needle from my arm with more force than I feel is necessary. “Why don't you pull your lip over your head and swallow? Then, when you take a shit you can get a real good look at how the world sees you?” Dina has no reaction, but Ronnie laughs, stroking my hair back while the nurse fiddles around and does whatever it is that she needs to do.
“Is there a doctor I can speak to about getting her discharged?” he asks, and Nurse Dina actually smiles for the first time since I've been here.
“Nothing would please me more, Mr. McGuire,” she says, and I frown. The fact that she knows Ronnie's last name is just more proof that she's desperate for some Indecency dick. I cross my arms over my chest as Ronnie gives me another kiss on the top of my head and moves away with a promise to return.
A moment later, Turner scoots over and stands next to me, flashing a multi-fucking-million dollar house in Beverly Hills on the smartphone's screen. When I glance up at him, there's a wicked gleam in his eye and a dangerous curl to his lip.
“That's bloody outrageous,” I choke, shaking my head. I have no idea how much money Indecency's made, but a house that costs more than the national wealth of a small country? Hah. “That's a pipe dream if I've ever heard one.”
“This is the house I'm going to buy,” Turner growls, pressing the phone against his chest and taking a deep breath. “From trailer park trash to fucking royalty. I'm making this happen.” He moves away and heads to the door, pushing it open and grumbling under his breath. I wish him the best of luck, but I know that's never going to happen. Not in a million years.
“Are you sure you're alright?” Ronnie asks for the third time since I was loaded into this wheelchair. My stomach's still killing me, but the doctors have assured me that if I take it easy, I'll live. They tried to give me some medical mumbo jumbo, but I wasn't listening. I don't care what the bullet hit or didn't hit, only that it passed all the way through me and that I'm lucky as fuck to be alive. That's it.
“Sure as shit, babe,” I tell him, smiling when he chuckles and shakes his head like I'm crazy. “Feeling pretty fucking perky right about now. Out of this hospital, away from that bitch nurse … ” I trail off as we exit the elevator and head to the lobby, meeting up with Ronnie's manager and his friend, Jesse Decker. It's decidedly peaceful in here right now, just a light trickle of traffic, a few heads turning our way, but no massive crowds, no paparazzi. Pretty incredible if I do say so myself. I start to wonder if the Indecency/Amatory Riot bubble has finally popped. Maybe this time, the drama went too far, and the world's had enough? Hah. I shake my head and touch my fingers to my forehead. I know better than that. This world is bloodthirsty, full of crazy ass people desperate for drama. It's just a matter of time until they find us and sink their teeth in.
“What's our next step here, Milo?” Ronnie asks, pushing my wheelchair up next to the seating area and plopping onto a small sofa. “To be honest with you, I feel kind of … lost.” Milo nods his head and gestures for Jesse to take a seat in one of the cushy chairs. Swanky little hospital, ain't it? I wonder how much this stay is going to set me back?
Milo unbuttons his suit jacket and takes a spot opposite Jesse. These boys are lucky to have a guy like that in their corner, somebody that's got his shit together, someone to guide them through the tough times. I'm almost jealous. I sigh and let my eyes close for a moment, thinking of Ice and Glass and our final performance. It was pretty good – I'll give you that – but our band is as good as dead now. Joel is … I killed him. My second murder this year and I'm not sitting behind bars. I'm not sure how I should feel about that. I swallow hard and open my eyes back up to look at Milo.