Page 50 of Mountain Man Bad Boy

His next words cut me to the core. “There was a hostage situation, but that’s been resolved.”

“Hostage situation?” I gasped, running for my truck.

“I don’t have all the details,” Jason explained. “What I’ve been told is that a gunman broke in and did some damage on the second floor. No one was hurt, though. They were real clear about that. No one was hurt, but I’m not sure how her state is. The police have the suspect in custody.”

“I’m on my way.” I reached my vehicle, pulling the door open and throwing the phone inside.

I floored it through neighborhoods until I reached the highway. It was just two exits before the turnoff for the hospital. I held a picture of Gina in my mind, as I had seen her last, in my bed, in my T-shirt, with sleep-clouded eyes. She was alright. We were going to be reunited, and we had our entire lives to live together. This was not the end of anything.

An hour later, I pulled up to the treatment center to see cop cars parked diagonally through the traffic lanes and a crowd of people milling around. I inched my way into the parking lot, skirting the action, parking toward the back. Climbing out, I saw that the crowd was an odd mix of professionals and patients.

Doctors and hospital administrators were barking orders, covering their own asses as reporters shone camera lights in their faces. I swam through the chaos, searching each knot of people for any sign of Gina.

There was a picnic area near the front door. I hadn’t noticed it before because the first time I had passed it, I had been high, and the second time, I had been anxious to leave. Sitting alone at the closest table was Gina: my love, the woman I couldn’t live without. I rushed to her side, not caring who saw us.

She came up from her seat the moment she laid eyes on me, leaning into my embrace with all her strength. I found her mouth and kissed it, never before tasting anything so sweet. She returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around me, holding me to her. Joy bubbled up in my heart. I had weathered the storm; I had fought my internal demons and won. Gina was alive and safe, and I was still clean and sober.

She seemed to have the same thought at the exact same moment, because she pulled away, putting her hands on my cheeks. She checked my eyes, hunting for any sign of intoxication. I smiled, daring her to continue. I could prove to her again and again that I had the strength to say no to drugs. It would never get old.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you too,” she replied, pulling me in for an even deeper kiss.

28

GINA

Iwas so excited to see Porter that I didn’t consider anything else. All our careful secrecy went out the window after the exhausting day I had. My shoulder still hurt, though it was becoming clear it wasn’t broken or torn. I would likely have a large bruise in a day or two. My head was throbbing. The pressure, both emotional and physical, had drained my resources and generated a massive headache. I wanted nothing more than to curl up with Porter in bed, turn out all the lights, and sleep.

Standing at the entrance to the treatment center, his arms around me, was the next best thing. There was a chill in the air that evening. A wind blew through the parking lot, touching all of the participants. The residents had been spooked. Those who could be evacuated to other treatment centers had been sent over by hospital vans. Those who requested release were being processed slowly, allowed to wait outside while their paperwork went through.

The nurses and orderlies were pacing, staying close to the patients until they were declared competent one by one and allowed to leave of their own accord. My boss and my boss’s boss were both there, talking to the police and to reporters. The flashing lights of the squad cars lent the entire scene an eerie disco vibe, like it wasn’t quite real.

Once I had found Porter, I latched onto him, as if without his support I would fall. He guided me back to the table and helped me to sit down, staying with me, holding my hand. I wanted to tell him everything, but I didn’t know how to start. I wished I could use telepathy to show him images of the trauma I had suffered. I would share an image of me crouched in the hallway, glass raining down, another of me being hustled to safety by the orderlies, and a third of George being brought out in handcuffs.

They had hidden me in the break room, leaving Cindy to babysit me while the real action took place on the floor above. I had heard the police storm the building. Their boots on the stairs had sounded like a stampede. They had found me as they searched the building, room by room, assuming the worst.

“He’s in room 204C,” I told the officer who rescued me. “He has a gun, and he’s locked in.”

She radioed that information to whoever was listening, helping me back out through the lobby, to the parking lot. Cindy led me to the picnic table and sat down beside me. I hadn’t had the energy to tell my story then, just accepted a bottled water and put my head down while the earth spun. Five minutes later, the doors opened, and five police officers strode by, George between them.

He didn’t see me. He was moving with his head down, muttering to himself. They walked him right past me and settled him into the back seat of one of the squad cars. A moment later, the arresting officers got in the front seat and drove away. My nightmare was over.

Police had converged on me, eager to get the details. I told them what I could, promising to come to the station the next morning to give a full report. They asked me not to leave, and I agreed, having no ability or desire to drive myself anywhere. Cindy had gone home after an hour, just a few minutes before Porter found me.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” she’d asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured her.

She hesitated. “You don’t look fine.”

“They just want to cover their bases,” I said. “You don’t need to stick around. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” She leaned down to hug me.

I hugged her back, thankful for her concern but too tired from her shift for much else. Then Porter had appeared, just popped out of the mass of people around me, and I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I stumbled into his arms in relief, feeling all the terror and anxiety of the day disperse.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” Porter said, bless him.

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