Naughty Friend ALTERNATIVE Ch. 17 (Patreon)

June 28, 2021

So kind of a different post (and a completely ‘extra’ post).

This is an alternative version of chapter 17, in which we begin heading down a more monogamous route. The main storyline went a polyamorous (or probably more accurately ‘harem’) route, and while most of you guys expected that, there are a few who were hoping that Ryan and Amber would be exclusive to each other.

Thus, this chapter begins to take that route.

Just FYI that I probably won't do this for any of my other stories, simply because it can be time-consuming to deviate too much from the original.

NOTE: Read the Original Chapter 17 if you prefer a harem route, where Victoria and Sarah remain involved in the relationship.

Of course, this version entails that Victoria falls out of the story, just FYI, and has the potential to be a 'shorter' story.

This chapter is meant for those who wanted the long-term romance to be between Ryan and Amber only.

<< Chapter 16 | Chapter 1

- CHAPTER 17: ALTERNATIVE ROUTE -

- SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20: Late Afternoon -

IMPORTANT: If you’ve already read the original version of this chapter, most of it is the same, until we get to the part where he debates if he should try explaining things to Victoria, or not.

Of course, removing Victoria from the story means that chapter 18 plays out a lot differently, since she won't be present.

The moment I realized my worst nightmare was really happening, I started running up the apartment stairs, my thoughts barely seconds ahead of my actions, before I abruptly came to a halt when I heard the deadbolt lock, realizing that I couldn’t just break down the door.

Literally, I could kick it as hard as I wanted, and it was doubtful it would just magically open up like in movies, even as strong as my legs were.

Not to mention, if I started pounding on the door, it would draw too much attention from the other neighbors who lived here.

And we couldn’t get the cops involved, because what my friend was doing was technically illegal.

Sure, she could lie, and sure these guys would get in trouble too, but involving the police might sincerely result in my friend getting put in jail. Not to mention, she might actually be pissed at me for getting directly involved, claiming that she could have handled the situation herself.

And honestly, for all I knew, maybe she could handle the situation herself.

Still, I wasn’t going to risk her getting gangbanged from a bunch of assholes, and I could even imagine her putting up with it simply to avoid something even worse from happening by losing complete control of the situation, where they forced themselves on her.

At least if she acted like she was willing, then she could still try to dictate what everyone did. She could still try to hold onto some semblance of control.

However, at this point, I didn’t give a damn what she wanted me to do, or not do. I didn’t give a damn if she was going to be pissed at me for getting involved. All I cared about was getting her out of this situation safely, while also avoiding her landing in jail.

Whether I broke into the house armed with only my fists, my mace, or with the gun I’d thankfully brought, I was still going to be climbing up to the balcony on the other side of the building and putting a stop to this shit.

Fuck, I couldn’t believe I’d really brought the gun when I actually needed it, though I was sure I still could have managed if I hadn’t brought it on impulse.

Without hesitation, I turned right back around and bolted down the stairs, flying out the glass door with such force that I slammed my knee into the glass, surprised it didn’t break, or even crack. I then dashed across the parking lot and yanked open the rear door, hastily yanking out the gun and magazine from my backpack, immediately wishing I hadn’t rolled them up so tightly in my shirts, only to load it and double-check the safety prior to shoving it into the lip of my jeans.

I then grabbed my mace too, shoving the tube into my pocket, even though I had no intention on using it.

Slamming the door shut, I bolted straight for the side of the building, having tunnel vision, only being vaguely aware of another car entering the parking lot, dashing around the side and to the back, finding myself thankful it was cold enough that no one else was on their balconies.

Given the door I’d seen the guys filing in, it wasn’t hard to guess which balcony belonged to the bastard who’d set my friend up, with me readjusting the gun more securely before I grabbed ahold of the rocky wall to get my feet on the black metal railing of the lower balcony, only to reach up and begin hoisting myself to the next level, using my feet against the wall to speed up the process.

The metal bars were freezing cold, but I didn’t give a damn, being unsurprised when I climbed over the railing to see that the white blinds to the sliding glass door were closed.

Pulling out the gun, I stepped right up to the glass, being able to hear loud arguing, mostly the volume coming from my friend.

Evaluating my options, I knew that the worst case was that I could either kick or shoot through the glass to get inside, with the second alternative being a bit less favorable, since I’d prefer not to leave evidence behind. But I might have to do that anyway if it reached a point where I’d have to shoot.

Technically, if no one died then the consequences would at least be less in the event the cops got involved.

However, this was the second floor, and I could imagine that some people might not worry about locking this door most of the time, which meant just trying the handle first would be the best idea.

But before that, I wanted to listen to the arguing to confirm that my friend wasn’t about to walk out the front door on her own accord. Because, as much as I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her, I was also well aware I might be overreacting a little to the situation. Maybe they thought she’d be willing to do this if they paid her, and would let her leave when she refused…

Listening closely, I could hear a guy’s murmurs, only for Amber to speak up more loudly, her tone firm.

“I said no, dumbass! I don’t care if all of you are paying me or not! I do things on my terms, not yours!”

“Ah come on, babe,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed immediately by a smack.

“Don’t touch me!” Amber snapped aggressively.

“Bitch!” was the immediate response, followed by another loud smack, as it sounded like he returned the hit.

And that was the tipping point for me.

I was already far past hearing enough.

About to kick the glass in, I had enough sense to try the sliding door first, a little surprised when it did actually begin to slide open with a little tug, causing me to finish yanking it out of my way. I was already holding up the loaded gun in my right hand, safety off, as I laid eyes on my friend clutching her temple on a dark brown couch, looking as if she’d just got punched in the face hard enough that it would have dropped her to the floor if not for the furniture catching her fall.

And she was disoriented enough that she was the only person who didn’t respond to me suddenly opening the sliding door. However, I spoke before any of them could fully register what was going on.

“On your knees, NOW!” I barked out, causing them all to jump, partly from surprise and partly from my volume.

“What the fuck?!” one guy said, another dude almost overlapping with him as he said, “The hell?!”

“I said on your knees!” I repeated aggressively, shoving the gun forward slightly to emphasize its existence. That certainly worked, four of the six guys, one of them being the nerd who set her up, now focusing on it with wide eyes, with the only two who seemed a bit more collected being the guy standing closest to my friend, an unfamiliar face, along with the one I’d seen at my house the other day.

The second guy, who was closest to Amber, his hand still clutched into a fist, ironically responded with a laugh.

“What the fuck is this?” he scoffed. “The boyfriend? I bet that isn’t even loaded!”

I knew leaving evidence behind would be bad, assuming I didn’t decide to just go ahead and start dropping bodies, but I also wasn’t about to let them not take me seriously. The guy nearest me was a good six or seven feet away, and looked like he was about to piss himself, indicating he didn’t have the nerve to try to grab my gun, so I jerked my arm behind me and upward, aiming for the sky, only to pull the trigger.

POP!

Instantly, all of them did a reflexive duck from the sheer volume of the gun firing this close, as if their hips and knees had buckled slightly from the unexpected sound, with two of the guys grabbing for their heads as if they were getting ready to take cover. However, the moment the barrel was aimed in their direction again, I didn’t even have to ask before four of the six guys dropped to their knees, three of them all speaking up at once, trying to give excuses about what they were really doing here.

“Shut the hell up!” I snapped, aiming the barrel at the guy who’d hit my friend. “On your knees!” I repeated aggressively, sounding just as pissed as I felt. “Before I fucking blow your head off!”

Surprisingly, he listened, his eyes widen now in sincere panic, the shot having changed everything about his attitude.

The first guy, who my friend had slept with the previous night, finally spoke up as he eased down onto his knees too, hands in the air.

“Hey man, this isn’t what you think,” he said, his voice breaking. “We’re…” His voice trailed off as his eyes widened. “Wait, you live with her, don’t you? Are you in on it?” he demanded, his tone suddenly growing more defensive. “Are you seriously fucking in on it?”

“In on what?” I snapped, speaking up even though I knew he was baiting me. “I just brought my friend over to drop a book off that she’d borrowed for class.”

He scoffed at that, visibly relaxing. “Dumbass! She’s a whore! We’re paying her to let us fuck her!”

I was shocked Amber didn’t chime in to try to deny it, glancing at her at that exact second, just in time to watch her vomit all over the couch, the guy who hit her looking at her in shock.

Holy shit, had he given her a concussion?!

Fuck!

I needed to get her to a hospital now!

“What did you fucking say about my friend?!” I snapped, taking a step closer, and being very intentional about putting my finger on the trigger. “I’ve got seven shots left,” I lied. “Just enough for all of you, with one extra, and I think I’m about to dump two of those shots into your skull!”

He immediately blanched, seeming at a loss for words, but my mind was already running a mile a minute, because I was sure the cops were already on their way after I’d fired my gun so close by.

Abruptly switching the weapon to my left hand, I jerked my hand into my pocket and yanked out my phone, turning on the camera and starting to record.

I then made sure I scanned the whole scene before me, keeping the gun out of the shot, only to focus back on the guy my friend had slept with previously.

“I fucking heard exactly what’s going on!” I barked out. “You lured her here, and were going to force yourselves on her, whether she wanted it or not! And then throw money at her afterward, so you could claim it wasn’t sexual assault!”

I held the gun up more, still out of sight of the camera, about to force him to admit it on video.

However, the guy closest to me, who was without a doubt the nerd who stayed here, considering all the other guys looked like they were on a sports team, spoke up without prompt.

“They made me do it!” he said pleadingly, even though my attention hadn’t been on him. “I didn’t want to, but they threatened to kill me!”

“Fucking bastard!” the guy who hit my friend barked out. “You wanted to fuck her for free and get paid doing it!”

My friend vomited again, groaning and clutching her side as if she wasn’t even aware of what was going on in the room.

Clutching her side, not her head.

What in the hell?

Was it the pain from earlier that was making her vomit?

We had to get the fuck out of here, and I needed to get her to a hospital.

“What in the hell did you do to her?” I demanded. “Other than punch her in the face?” I added. “Did you drug her?!”

“I didn’t punch–”

The nerd cut him off. “He hit her, but that’s it.”

“She hit me first!” the guy roared.

“I don’t give a fuck!” I snapped, aiming for him now. “All of you on your faces now! Flat on the floor!” I added, when I got some confused looks.

“Hey man,” the first bastard said uneasily. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Get your FUCKING FACE, on the FUCKING FLOOR!” I shouted. “With your hands behind your FUCKING HEAD!”

I waited until they complied, a few of the guys visibly shaking now, all of them looking like they were going to shit themselves.

I then continued speaking, shoving my phone in my pocket, with it still recording. “If even a single one of you moves a muscle, I’ll fucking blow your head off!” I added, moving closer and speaking to my friend. “Hey, get up. Let’s go.”

She looked up at me with a tormented expression, her light green eyes moving oddly as if she was extremely dizzy, her head even tilting slightly like she was losing her balance and about to fall over.

Knowing we didn’t have time to waste, I kept the more aggressive dude, who hit her, in my sights as I grabbed Amber roughly by the arm and yanked her to her feet, moving her closer to the wall so we could get over to the door. My biggest concern was one of them trying to grab at my feet, or otherwise attempting to retrieve my weapon, thereby forcing me to put a bullet in their head.

However, no one moved, as I’d asked.

I suspected that being physically below me might have affected their mindset, with them knowing that grabbing at my feet might mean they ended up staring upward at a barrel in their face, just before I pulled the trigger.

I then paused just as we got to the closed door, speaking loudly. “I’ve got every one of you assholes on video, and I can easily edit it to ensure it’s nothing but damning for all of you. If I fucking even see any one of you ever again, I’ll fucking submit it to the police and press charges. Or if you even fucking try to talk to her again, I’ll fucking post it online for everyone to see. No big deal to blur my friend’s face, but I’ll make sure all of your faces and names are plastered all over the internet.” I paused, silently clicking the safety on the gun in preparation to shove the weapon back in my pants the moment we were out the door. “So you better fucking hope I never see any of you again!” I added.

I then let go of my friend just long enough to unlock the deadbolt and get the door open, thankful that the hallway was completely empty. Then again, even if someone overheard us, it wasn’t like they would come to see what was going on. And after a thought, I realized having eavesdroppers might not be likely, simply because I couldn’t imagine them assaulting my friend when close neighbors could easily hear her telling them to stop or asking for help.

Never mind the mostly empty parking lot.

But even if people were here, most would try to avoid other people’s problems, being much more interested in calling the police and hiding out until they got there, as opposed to intervening themselves. Grabbing my friend’s arm again, I led her hastily down the stairs, holding her tighter when she continued to seem uneasy, audibly wincing and groaning.

We then rushed out of the glass door, my mind beginning to panic when I realized I could hear sirens in the distance. I tried to rush my friend faster, but it only caused her to stumble, forcing me to take the time to focus more on getting her safely to the car, knowing we probably had enough time to get out of here before being seen.

However, just as we reached the vehicle, Amber bent over again and hurled bile all over the pavement, groaning loudly once she’d finished coughing.

Fuck, I didn’t know what in the hell was wrong with her, but we needed to get to a hospital, and now.

I was much less gentle about getting her in her seat, not even worrying about the seat belt, dropping the gun by my feet as I shoved the key in the ignition and peeled out of the parking spot.

I was fully aware that driving too fast might garner unwanted attention, and I was also aware it was possible someone was recording outside their window as they hid, but when my friend started whimpering in pain, still clutching her side, I realized I didn’t have the luxury of caring right now.

After pulling out onto the street, I began speeding down the road, eventually putting on my hazard lights and honking at people to get them to move over when there were multiple lanes. All the while, my friend’s whimpers progressively became actual cries of pain, beginning to writhe in her seat on the way to the hospital.

Which was saying a lot on its own, because my friend was tough, and often stoic when in normal pain, usually completely silent when others would be crying out like she was now. All of which only told me that it was even worse than I was imagining, for it to force her to be in this condition.

However, she didn’t actually say anything, nor did I say anything to her, the fact that we’d grown up together making conversation pointless, since I knew what all the answers would be to my questions, and likewise knew I’d only annoy her by asking pointless ones.

And I certainly wasn’t about to bring up what just happened -- not at a time like this.

Finally, pulling wildly in to the ER parking lot fifteen minutes later, I was actually surprised I’d made it without getting noticed or pulled over by a cop, but it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d seen someone speeding around without getting caught.

Not about to worry about the hospital’s rules, I drove right for the ER entrance reserved for actual ambulances, putting on the brakes the moment I’d pulled up partially on the sidewalk in front of the automatic doors.

I barely got my door open before a security guard was rushing out, looking like he was going to tell me to move my vehicle, before both hearing and seeing my friend crying out in pain.

Thus, instead, he ran right back inside, calling out for some nursing staff as he grabbed a wheelchair. I took the opportunity to grab one of those shirts from the backseat and cover up the gun by my feet, realizing that could be its own problem if someone saw it. Especially the security guard.

After that, everything was just a blur.

I had one male nurse asking me for the basics about her pain, even as a female nursed asked Amber the same types of questions, before they were rushing her into the building with the intention of doing an emergency CT scan. I told them she’d fallen and hit her head, in hopes that they might consider a concussion on top of the pain in her side, and I also mentioned that she’d vomited several times, but then after that she was gone from my sight.

I wasn’t allowed to go with them, the security officer directing me to move my car, and then to go in through another entrance and wait in the ER lobby.

Almost two hours later, and I was still waiting, feeling completely numb and drained after everything that happened. Of course, it was already dark outside, given that the sun set so early in the winter.

At one point, within the first thirty minutes of being there, one of the nurses came to inform me that they were doing surgery, but since then I hadn’t heard anything at all.

My friend was in surgery, and I didn’t even know why.

I wasn’t sure if the nurse neglecting to tell me the reason was because she didn’t know, or if it was because they weren’t entirely sure what the problem was, and the surgery was exploratory. Then again, I didn’t even know if they’d do that without having at least some clue as to the cause of her pain.

Then again, I supposed I didn’t even ask.

The nurse had handed me a ton of paperwork to fill out, and asked my relation, as well as if I knew Amber’s insurance information, so after giving her the insurance card I had in my wallet, which was of course in my dad’s name, I was left to try to focus on a million forms.

Thankfully, I at least knew the answers to most of the questions, even the more personal ones.

And then, I just sat there, the nurse being required to come get them from me as she returned my insurance card, since I hadn’t taken the initiative to bring them back up to her even though it was obvious I was done.

I asked her how my friend was doing at that point, but she just said she was still in surgery and didn’t have an update.

So I was left sitting there, feeling like the world was devoid of color, barely noticing the other people in the ER waiting room, ignoring everyone and everything.

And then, after it had almost been a full two hours, a tall man unexpectedly walked up to me, dressed in light blue scrubs and wearing a blue cap.

I looked up at him in confusion briefly, before he asked to verify that I was the person who brought Amber in, and then explained that he’d just performed Laparoscopic surgery on her to remove her appendix.

He also explained that we’d gotten here just in time, and that it looked as if it had almost burst by the time he removed it, explaining that even half an hour later and she might be looking at staying in the hospital for a week, instead of just a day.

However, before I could really say anything myself, he quickly moved on to a different subject.

“And you brought her in, right?” he wondered, seeming a bit reserved now.

“Oh, umm, yeah,” I responded, still feeling a bit ‘out of it,’ from all the stress.

“And you said she fell and hit her head?” he continued.

I nodded, clearing my throat. “Umm, yeah. Pretty hard too. Just before she threw up the first time.”

He frowned at that. “Well, it doesn’t look like she has any cerebral edema, but she does have a bruise forming on her temple. For safety reasons, we can’t allow any visitors to see her until we’ve had someone speak to her about it.”

I frowned as well, several questions popping into my head as I tried to follow along. “Cerebral what?” I commented in sincere confusion.

His eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry. There are no signs of her having any brain swelling, which means she doesn’t appear to have a concussion. The vomiting was likely a symptom of the appendicitis.”

“And you’re saying I can’t see her?” I finally realized after a second.

“It’s standard procedure, for anyone who comes in looking like they might have been a victim of domestic abuse.”

I finally sat up straight in disbelief. “You just said her appendix almost burst, and that I barely got her here in time! And now you’re worried that I hurt her?!” I said in shock, not even caring that the others in the waiting room were looking over at us now.

He immediately held up his hands defensively. “No, absolutely not. No one is suggesting anything of the sort. But the hospital administration has rules, and I’m only explaining why they won’t let you see her right away.” He shrugged. “Besides she’s still in post-op anyway. Once she wakes up, and the anesthesia has worn off some, we’ll have someone talk to her and then a nurse will come get you to see her after that.”

I frowned at that, wondering if my friend would say anything weird while she was still loopy, but deciding their was no point in worrying about it, since she’d easily be able to just deny it once she was thinking straight, and would likely even criticize them for questioning her when her thoughts were cloudy from the anesthesia.

Realizing that the doctor was probably about to leave, now that he’d delivered his message, I quickly spoke up again.

“Oh, and quick question. Was there something we could have done to prevent this? We both eat a lot of cheese, and eggs too. Was that what set this off? We had pizza for lunch.”

He immediately shook his head. “No, her bloodwork was perfect, and eggs are actually good for you. The cholesterol in eggs is good for you too, assuming a balanced diet, although I certainly wouldn’t recommend eating pizza all the time.” He shrugged again. “But overall, she’s in great health. Appendicitis is just one of those things that happens sometimes, and even now we really don’t know the root cause. It’s an infection, and diet doesn’t seem to correlate with who gets it and who doesn’t.” He sighed. “Very different than most other problems, like issues with the liver, gall bladder, and heart. Those conditions are more associated with an unhealthy diet and sedentary lifestyle, but even someone fit like you could end up with appendicitis.”

“So, there’s really nothing we could have done to prevent it?” I asked seriously. “And could it be genetic?”

He shook his head again. “Not really. There’s no proven way to prevent it. And there’s not even clear triggers that cause it. It is true that eating a balanced diet is always recommended, and might help, but there are plenty of people eating horrible diets, who never exercise, who still never develop the condition.”

I nodded, leaning back more heavily into my seat.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I’ve got other patients to see, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask a nurse. And they know you’re waiting, so they’ll call you back once she’s awake and you can see her.”

I simply nodded, still feeling drained by the whole situation, even more so now that I’d been just sitting around, staring at the floor for the last nearly two hours.

Fuck.

But at least she was okay. At least she was safe.

Hopefully the scar from the surgery wouldn’t be too bad, because I knew she wasn’t going to be thrilled about that, but it was definitely better than dying.

Sighing heavily after he walked away, I finally pulled out my phone, something I hadn’t bothered to do the entire time, feeling overwhelmed with worry over this situation. Because Amber really meant that much to me. I couldn’t lose her, and the idea that she almost ended up in the hospital for a week was like a major eye-opener.

Really, this was something that could have even killed her, even though she was otherwise perfectly healthy.

Dammit.

Glancing down at my screen as I tried to unlock it, I was surprised when it remained black, no indication that it was coming to life.

What the hell?

Had I somehow turned it off?

But then, as I tried to turn it on, I realized the obvious.

I’d left my phone recording when I stuck it in my pocket, just wanting to make sure that something wasn’t said off-camera that might be important later, but obviously it had never stopped recording and must have drained the battery.

Sighing, I glanced around the room, noticing that one of the other people in the waiting area had their phone plugged into the wall behind their chair. Looking behind my seat, I didn’t see an outlet where I was, but suspected I wouldn’t have too much trouble finding one. Granted, I could have always used my car to charge my phone, since I had a cord in my backpack, but would rather be in the waiting room in the event they were ready to let me see Amber.

Finally standing up, feeling stiff after having barely moved in the last couple of hours, I made my way to the reception desk to let the two female nurses sitting there know that I was running out to my car really fast and would be right back.

They both gave me pleasant replies, with the slightly younger nurse, looking like she was maybe twenty-four or twenty-five, biting her bottom lip as she focused on my chest while I turned away to go do as I’d indicated.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time I’d notice someone looking at me like that, and I certainly had a good idea of what it meant, but I’d always been a bit less comfortable speaking with women who showed obvious signs of interest, even though I was otherwise very social when I needed to be.

Or rather, that’s specifically what it was -- the obvious interest.

The moment I had a girl trying to catch my eye, it made me feel anxious and maybe a little self-conscious, especially if she was really hot. Because I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, having a similar reaction to what happened when I first met Victoria at the strip bar, where I just wanted to look away and pretend like she didn’t exist, except just not as potent with other girls…

Oh shit. Victoria.

She was probably pissed that my friend and I both iced her. Dammit.

---

I probably needed to call her up and apologize, but I also realized I didn’t even know how to interact with her at this point, feeling pretty certain I’d blown any chances I might have had with her, especially since this was exactly the kind of thing she had been concerned about when we talked about the subject of us dating.

But then again, should we even pursue that route?

Or would it mess up my relationship with Amber?

Victoria said she barely knew me, and while she did like me, she also wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to give up what she had going on with her boyfriend for my sake. Especially since she didn’t know if I could be reliable, and hadn’t known me long enough to verify if I was an unreliable asshole or not.

Not to mention, now that I thought about it, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to get too involved with her when I wasn’t even confident if she’d broken up with her boyfriend at this point, or confident that she would really even do it, when he was obviously okay with her sleeping around…

Or confident that sincerely dating her wouldn’t ultimately push my friend away…

Honestly, even if she forgave me due to this unique situation, she’d probably already spent the last couple of hours angry at me, thinking I’d flaked on her, which were emotions and a perception that she wouldn’t be able to easily let go even after learning the truth.

The idea that I wasn’t reliable would probably remain in her mind.

And that truth was only reinforced once I was sitting back down in a different chair -- this one really wide, almost like a bench for two people, or maybe just a seat for one very large person -- and plugging my phone in, discovering I only had two messages from Victoria, as well as one missed call between them.

The first one was shorter and sounded a bit more concerned.

‘Hey, everything okay?’

The second one sounded upset.

‘Look, I’m just going to go into work early. And if for some reason this is about you changing your mind about us, then at least have the decency of telling me, instead of having Amber make excuses for you.’

Glancing at the time in the corner of my screen, I saw it was already a little past 6:30pm. Victoria had originally planned on going in at seven, but based on the time of the last message, it looked as if she’d gone in at six instead. No doubt she thought I’d really stood her up after being well over an hour late.

Dammit.

What should I do?

Because this felt like it might be my only chance to explain myself.

Should I at least try?

Taking a deep breath, I simply sat back and silently debated it, becoming unfocused as I remained in a sort of solemn indecisiveness. Because I wasn’t sure what to do, or if it even mattered if I responded right now, and so ultimately did nothing.

Nothing except sit and wait.

Sighing heavily, I finally glanced at my phone again after a long time, just to check the clock, surprised when I saw that another thirty minutes had passed. And I still had no updates on my friend at all.

Dammit, what was taking them so long?

Was she okay?

Becoming irritated at this point, I got out of my seat, leaving my phone where it was, still plugged in, and walked across the lobby to the reception area, focusing on the first nurse who looked up at me.

“Hey,” I said a bit more firmly than I intended, my frustration leaking out. “It’s been half an hour. Is my friend okay, or not?”

The brunette seemed a little flustered by my tone, quickly apologizing. “Sorry, let me check if they are ready for you to come back. It’s been really busy this evening,” she added, as if to give an excuse for why no one had called me back yet.

I simply nodded, doubting I’d get anywhere if I became too forceful about it. However, I fully intended on standing there, ensuring she actually did as she said.

And sure enough, after typing on her computer, she picked up a phone and called a number, mention that I was still waiting to see her and trying to get an update. She then paused for a long few seconds as she listened, before speaking to me, while still on the line.

“You’re her ride, correct?” she asked.

I looked at her in surprise. “Oh, umm. Yeah, of course. I’m the one who brought her in to begin with.”

She nodded. “Well, she’s absolutely refusing to stay the night, and we can’t keep her in the ER much longer, so the nurse is going to help her get dressed and wheel her out.”

“Oh.” I paused, wondering if I should try to convince my friend to stay or not. I didn’t want to chance something happening and having to come right back, but I also knew Amber could be really stubborn. “Okay,” I finally added. “How soon will they be out? Should I grab the car now?”

The nurse simply repeated what I asked on the phone, before thanking the person and hanging up.

“Yes,” she said to me. “They should have her out within the next ten minutes, so if you want to pull up to be ready, that’s fine.”

I sighed heavily in relief. “Okay, thanks,” I said sincerely, glad I’d finally get to see her soon.

The nurse only nodded once, focusing on her computer again, as if she was silently saying she was too busy to continue the conversation, but I was fine with that.

Heading back to my seat, I collected my phone and charger, and then went out to grab the vehicle, a little surprised by how frigid the wind had become in the last few hours. That, and it was already dark out, thanks to the time of the year.

I then got in my car and pulled around to the pickup location, prepared to wait for a little while.

And it sincerely was a good ten minutes before I finally laid eyes on her.

However, what I didn’t expect to see was how sad my friend looked, her light green eyes almost pained from emotional distress. A female nurse was wheeling her out in a wheelchair, a plastic bag of supplies hanging off one of the hand grips, my friend now clothed in what she was wearing before, but hugging a disposable cotton pillow firmly, her eyes tight.

At first, I thought maybe she was just feeling off due to the anesthesia, but when she finally met my gaze, I saw that she looked especially somber upon seeing me, almost as if she was silently apologizing.

Problem was, I wasn’t sure why she would feel the need to apologize in the first place…

And that bothered me.

A lot.

Chapter 18: ALTERNATIVE ROUTE >>