"Sir, you don't have time for a phone call. Even if you did, the only person you should be concerned about talking to, is a lawyer."
A lawyer. Fuck me. This is bad.
A different doctor walks over and tries to put a mask on my face as I thrash around trying to keep it away from my nose and mouth. Panic is starting to take hold of me as he gets it on. I beat down the emotion. I already have an IV in, I'm guessing from the ambulance ride. The guy who put the mask on me pushes white liquid into the tubing with a needle. I'm going to be out before I can get anyone to hear me.
"Listen to me!" I growl.
They don’t.
As the fog of the anesthesia rolls through my brain, I briefly think of seeing Bones. He said something important… The memory is almost there, but I can’t reach it.
Motherfucker! What did he say?!?!
CHAPTER 16
KILLIAN
I've been sitting in this hell hole for almost a month. I follow the guard as he walks me along a row of chairs. Walking past the men I see every day, some are glaring, some are too busy watching their wives cry, others just look like they are going as crazy as I am being stuck in here.
I look at the visitors as they wait for the prisoner they are visiting until I get to my little cubby down near the end. I pull out the plastic chair and pick up the red phone. The phone looks like something that's been here since at least the eighties. It looks like something that should be attached to one of those old rotary phones. I had no idea that phones even looked like this anymore. I see E-Z on the other side of the plexiglass, relieved to see him. I can’t trust anyone, but E-Z is different. I know he has my back—he will always have my back.
Being locked up in here is starting to get to me. I pled not guilty, and my trial will be soon. I’ve not really talked to anyone. Ryan O’Leary might be my father, but he isn’t rushing down here to be by my side either. Still, he did send down E-Z immediately and has been checking in with him every day. E-Z let me know he was trying to stay away from me, so it doesn’t put a target on my back. I could tell him it’s not working, but there’s no point. If I’m one-hundred percent honest, I don’t really want to talk to him. I’m not sure what I’d say.
I am getting desperate, though. There’s no fresh air to be found here. The heat and smell of my cell permeates every single thing. I hate being here. Each day, the walls feel like they are closing in on me.
I wasn't the best kid, streetwise and liking to fight anyone that thought they were tougher than me. I've done stints in juvie and small amounts of time in jail, but this is different. Lord knows I've done my fair share of illegal things to land my ass here. The difference is, I’m about to go up for capital murder for a crime I didn’t do—and the irony burns my ass. I want blood—beginning with Bones and Donovan—but I know it won’t end there.
"Wow, you look like shit," E-Z says with a big grin on his face. The glass between us has been scratched and etched in over the years. If I focus hard enough on the conversation, maybe I can pretend I'm not in this soul-sucking box.
"Fuck you," I say, chuckling. I probably do. I don't sleep in here—for a variety of reasons. I’m sick of being ordered around, too. I’ve spent my life ensuring that I'm the one that gets to make the orders—not follow them.
I know the other inmates are sizing me up. I see it in their faces. I’m waiting for the moment they challenge me. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already. I’m on alert and I’m ready. These guys have no clue what I'm capable of. I know that my father—and it’s getting easier to think of him like that—has hired a team of attorneys to help defend me, but none of them are giving me a lot of hope.
"It's not looking good," E-Z says, losing his smile, "I'm trying to track down this Bones and Donovan, but they've turned into ghosts. No traces left of them after that night. I'm pretty sure big money is backing them, helping them get away with this."
His words make my gut clench. I know there’s more to Bones laughing at me that night. He said something, but the memory stays on the outskirts of my mind and no matter what I do, I can’t recall it.