Page 70 of Rise & Fall

Looking around the room, I can see that my utility belt and wallet are laying across the room on a chair.

I see that I’m not tied down to any machine or wires currently, so I decide to get up slowly and make my way over to see if my phone is laying around.

And boy does it fucking hurt. Everywhere.

I ache and cramp as I take the five steps it takes to get to the chair. Digging through my bag is just as painful as I feel pain shoot through my abdomen, but most likely stemming from my rib fracture.

I finally feel my phone and grab it as I make my way back to the bed.

This shit sucks.

I get myself situated back into the position I woke in and swipe my passcode through my phone.

I’m hit with three text messages from Dakota and one from Mitch on top of two missed calls.

I open Mitch’s first.

Dude wtf are you okay? Please call me when you can.

One of the missed calls is from him also so I decide I’ll call him in a few.

I open the messages left from Dakota. The last one was sent nearly two hours ago. That’s when I realize that it’s almost nine at night. Shit, how long have I been here for?

Usually she starts work around seven on Saturday nights, working till sometimes three in the morning.

I read her first message.

4:30pm

I have to go to work soon, but I was wondering if I could stop by your place for a little bit. I really need to talk to someone right now.

Then her second one.

5:45pm

I’m sure you’re just busy, sorry to be annoying. I have to head toward work now. Hope your day is better than mine is.

I chuckle at that one, only because my day is probably worse than hers is. But then the thought that she might be having a bad day kicks in and suddenly I feel regret. She’s having a bad day and looked to me for support. And here I am laying in a hospital bed like a fucking pansy.

7:25 pm

I’m late to work. Because like a crazy person I stopped by your place just to see if you were there. But you weren’t. I really hope everything is okay, I’m getting kind of worried.

I notice that my second missed call was from her at 6:36 pm. That must have been around the time she was at my place. She’s having a bad day and I’m not there for her. But even worse, she is worried about me and wanted to check in to see if I’m okay.

But I’m not. Fuck this concussion and my broken bones. Something like guilt builds its way up my throat. Needing desperately to swallow it down because it’s not a good feeling. I need to get to Dakota. Or at least get a hold of her and let her know what happened.

twenty-three

Dakota

Izoomintothebar’s parking lot. Noticing that, for a Saturday night, it’s not that busy. Which is probably why Steve wasn’t so angry that I told him I’d be late.

I hop out of my jeep, lock the door, and walk up to the employee entry. The Booze & Beats bar sign glowing up above.

As I enter through the door and into the breakroom, my mind races with thoughts of Nolan. I wonder where he could be and why he wasn’t answering any of my texts.

But I don’t have much time to dwell on it because Barbie rushes in, noticing me as I put my things in my locker, and immediately starts chatting it up.