Chapter 65
As I sat in a totally different hospital, under a totally different scenario, I thought again of that mystery guy, trying to assemble the pieces in some way that made sense. That was how long ago? Five years?
That had to be just a month or two before Lawton had rocketed to fame and eventual fortune, all starting with some Internet video of a gritty back-alley fight. I'd seen that fight myself, with Lawton in all his tattooed glory, beating the living crap out of some guy who'd supposedly been unbeatable.
Unbeatable. The thought made me frown. Supposedly, Lawton had never lost a fight either. But on that very first night, something terrible had happened. The injuries, I might've chalked up to a fight gone wrong, but the cigarette burns made no sense at all.
So what had happened?
Thinking about it, I must've dozed off, because I jumped in my chair when I felt a touch on my shoulder. I whipped around to see Bishop, standing just behind me.
"Oh," I said. "It's you."
He glanced toward Lawton. "Is he alright?"
I nodded. "Mostly."
Bishop shook his head. "What a dumb-ass."
"Hey!" I said. "That's not very nice."
He gave me a look. "Just so you know, I talked with the nurse."
"Oh." I cleared my throat. "So, uh, she told on me, huh?"
"Pretty much."
"How'd you find out he was here?" I asked. "I would've called, but I didn't know how to reach you."
"Eh, heard it through the grapevine," he said.
"What grapevine?"
He shrugged. "So he gorged on seafood, huh?"
I nodded, feeling my eyes water just a little. "Here, I just thought he hated it," I said.
"Of course he hates it." Bishop flicked his gaze toward Lawton. "Look what it does to him."
"But why on Earth would he do something like that?" I said.
Bishop gave me a deadpan look. "My guess? He didn't want to see you hurt."
"But you don't even know what happened," I said.
"It's not hard to figure out. Here, lemme guess. And you can tell me how close I am."
I crossed my arms. "Alright. Go ahead."
"For whatever reason, it was either you or him. Or maybe it was either someone you care about, or him. Either way, he took the bullet so you didn't have to."
"It wasn't a bullet," I said. "It was oyster gravy."
Bishop made a face. "Is that real?"
"Unfortunately."
"How much did he eat?" Bishop said.
I glanced at Lawton. "A lot."
"Well, that's love for ya." Bishop shook his head. "Poor bastard."
"Hey!"
He shrugged. "I'm just saying."
I gave him a look. "So how about you? Haven't you ever been in love before?"
He glanced at Lawton, and then back at me. His voice was oddly quiet. "Yeah. Once."
"What happened?" I asked, suddenly curious.
Bishop was silent a few beats. And then, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He opened it up and slid something out of an interior pocket. It looked like a playing card, all folded up in a neat little square.
"What's that?" I said.
Silently, he handed it over. The creases were worn and the pattern was scuffed. Taking it from his cool hands, I had the feeling it had been handled a lot, and folded often.
Careful not to mangle it worse than it already was, I unfolded the card and studied the image. Obviously, it hadn't come from a regular card deck.
"Is this a tarot card?" I said.
He nodded.
I studied the image. "The Fool? Is this supposed to be you?"
He gave a humorless laugh. "No. Not if I can help it."
And then, I heard a groggy voice from the direction of the hospital bed. "Damn it. For the last time, just go find her already, will ya?"