Chapter Four
respect this here badge says you should.” Officer Alex Denty had been talking at
her for the past twenty minutes. This was the second time he’d referred to his
badge like it was the Holy Grail or something. But she’d learned that you didn’t
argue with the badge, or the man behind it.
“Yes, sir, I’m paying attention. You said that my things at the halfway house
had been destroyed. And I do respect you as an officer.” She looked down the
hall and saw Ms. Parker coming their way. Shit! She so didn’t need this.
“Hello, Denty. Don’t you have other innocent victims to harass? This ‘girly’
is with me, and you know how much respect I have for you, you ...”
Morgan started to laugh, and then quickly turned it into a cough when the
cop jerked back around to her. She didn’t have a lot to laugh at most of the time,
so that had caught her off guard. She nearly missed the wink Ms. Parker sent her
way.
“I was just tellin’ the ... Ms. Morgan here that her things got torn up at the
halfway house, ain’t nothing left. Not that she had much anyways, but there you
have it. You can’t go back neither. Mrs. White says she runs a respectable place
and she ain’t having you causing trouble.”
Morgan glanced at Ms. Parker. No hope for it, she’d heard.
“Thank you, Officer Denty. I appreciate you giving me the time out of your
busy schedule to let me know.” Morgan started to walk away, toward the exit,
hoping she could get out before he said something else she didn’t want everyone
to know.
But Mrs. Parker jumped in. “Wait! Wait right there, young lady.” Morgan
turned when she yelled; she had been drilled on stopping when told. “Officer
Denty, are you going to do anything about her things being destroyed?
Destruction of property? Invasion of privacy? You know, do your job?”
The officer answered Mrs. Parker, but never took his eyes from Morgan.
“There weren’t nothing there really. Little bit of clothes, some books, nothing to
get all twisted up about, is there, Ms. Morgan?”
It was that tone, the tone that said, You agree with me or find yourself at the
wrong end of my fist sometime in the near future.
“Nothing worth getting upset over, Ms. Parker. Really, it’s all right. I have
the important stuff with me. Please, it’s okay. I’m okay with this.” Morgan
looked at her and hoped she would just back off. She didn’t need any more
trouble right now.
“Morgan is her first name, not her last. Morgan, go to Nick’s area and wait
for me there. And I mean right there, you understand? Mr. Denty and I have a
few things to discuss in private.”
Morgan hesitated. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to go back to the
arrogant ass, nor did she want to leave this woman alone with the cop. She
actually though Ms. Parker might hurt him.
“Yes, ma’am.” She moved toward the curtained area, dragging her feet as
she went.
Margaret had said his area, not right at his bedside, so Morgan waited on the
outside of Nickolas’ curtain, pacing back and forth, muttering to herself. “I’m an
adult, not a child, and I wish people would flipping remember that. What does
she think I’ll do, roam around the hospital and cause trouble for someone else?”
“I would say that’s a yes. Trouble does seem to follow you around fairly
close. I’ve been to this hospital more in the past twenty-four hours than I have
been in the past twenty-four days,” Nickolas said from the other side of the
curtained area.
Morgan saw red.
Morgan flipped the curtain back so quickly that the nurse standing next to
his bed jumped like she’d been struck by something. Morgan paid little attention
to her and lit into the man on the bed.
“Why you arrogant, pigheaded, overbearing, egotistical prick. You have the
nerve, the very nerve, to make this my fault. Mine? Are you seriously thinking
that you had nothing to do with this entire event?
“First, you told that security guard to detain me, to keep me there until you
got your stuffy ass down there to grace me with your presence. And I warned
him not to touch me, but, oh no, he had to ignore that. Then you’re the one who
came to the halfway house to see me—I didn’t invite you there. And you’re the
one who let himself get close enough to Big Martha to be used as a shield. It was
you who ... who, oh, shit! I’m gonna be sick.” She glanced quickly at the nurse
now, and ran in the direction she indicated, holding one hand over her stomach
and the other over her mouth.
Morgan hated getting upset, especially mad upset. She really hated getting
mad and loud upset. She heaved the very little food she’d had on her belly and
sat there on the floor for several minutes afterwards, just resting and thinking.
Shit! I can’t go back to the halfway house. Now what the hell do I do?
Morgan didn’t have any clothes, just the ones she had on and the three or
four pair of panties she always carried with her. There was also an extra T-shirt
and some clean socks. The prison had given her five hundred dollars when they
had let her go, and she had wisely put that in a plastic baggie in the waistband of
her jeans. She still had over four hundred and fifty of that left.
Her other belongings, the ones now destroyed rubble at the house, were two
books that she’d not finished reading, three more T-shirts, another pair of jeans,
bras and more panties. There was also an assortment of toiletries. She’d not
purchased anything else, thinking—well, hoping really—she’d be able to get a
job before she needed a coat and things like that. She didn’t have any family, so
there were no letters from home, nor any pictures.
She was still deep in thought when someone knocked at the bathroom door.
“Morgan, are you all right?” Ms. Parker must have finished with Denty. She
had really hoped that she’d just go home with her son and forget about her. No
such luck.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m coming out in a second.” She stood up and dug into the
big bag and found her toothbrush and toothpaste. She took several paper towels
and, after wetting them really well, she washed down the sink and the spigots
with the soap in the dispenser. She wasn’t a clean freak, but she was in a hospital
where people were sick. She didn’t want to take any chances with catching
something lingering. She didn’t mind dying, would probably welcome it, she
mused, but she didn’t want to spend the next ten years dying from something
she’d caught here. After thoroughly brushing her teeth and her tongue twice, she
opened the door.
Tune in next week for chapter five
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