Before I get this chapter started I just want to say a big Thank You to VirendraLione for the positive feedback that I was given for this fic. I really appreciate the encouragement!
"Larry, Larry please!"
The muffled cries that sounded from down the hall where Orange had been taken, by this 'friend' of Mr. Pink, had been continuous for twenty minutes. He was trying to hold himself together, but the pool of blood that had formed around where he sat was slowly increasing. He hadn't moved; he couldn't move. The pained cries grew louder as a door was flung open, followed by the heavy sound of rapid footsteps.
"You're Larry aren't you, come on man he needs you, he is freaking out down there"
The voice was full of anxiety, a sincere worry strewn across the young man's face. He stood over the top of him for a moment before kneeling beside Larry and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey man, are you alright? ...Larry, are you awake?"
He couldn't make out whole words, instead letting out a small grunt in reply. The young man, whose name had escaped him already, wrapped an arm underneath his own and tried to lift him.
"Come on, bend your knees and try lift, I can't hold you up on my own"
He listened and pulled his legs up under himself, before he was re-adjusted in the hands of the boy offering him help. There was no pain when he moved, when he drew breath. He felt nothing but a hollow feeling in his lungs and stomach, like a churning that wouldn't cease.
"Mr. White! Please Larry!"
He lifted his head in response to the call of his name, not noticing he was nearing the opened door in which the noise was ringing from. Ringing? Yes ringing. A high pitch sound that echoed in his ears so loud he wanted to close his eyes and die right then and there. He was sure he was going too eventually, and now he finally understood what Mr. Orange had meant earlier in the car. The blood was scaring the shit out of him too right now, it covered his hands, his arms and he was almost positive that it had drenched every inch of his suit.
"Here, look, you sit right here Mr. White ok, right there next to your buddy while I try fix him up. I gotta clean him up first ok, then I'll help you out as well just stay with me"
He could feel himself being lowered down into a chair, not a solid chair, it was more flimsy. He took a better look seeing that this 'chair' was more of a stretcher, situated beside the bed in which Orange was laid out in a contorted manner. He lay down; taking full advantage of the space he was provided with, grasping his dying friend's hand that hung blood-covered over the side of the mattress above him.
The light didn't want to change for him, remaining red. All of the other cars around him seemed to move but he found himself stuck firmly in place. Was leaving the right thing to do? White and Orange had both taken a bullet for the diamonds that he was now escaping with.
No, no, don't get guilty now, it was their fault they got shot, they should have watched their own backs.
What are you going to do with diamonds? Sell them? Where? He had no idea what he was going to do, even if he did skip town, word that stones of that price had been stolen would have spread across the country by now. Leaving is what the cops would be expecting you to do; they probably have every main exit out of the city blocked.
Shit.
He turned around and looked at the bag in the back seat that contained the robbery's loot. The blood smeared over the leather made him cringe. Mr. Orange and Mr. White were dying because of the trouble of the contents of that bag, and he was running with it. They deserved a share, he probably wouldn't have gotten out alive without the distraction of the others.
No, fuck you, you're going soft. You got the diamonds; therefore they belong to you and you only.
He turned and looked at the road ahead, and as the light changed to green he found that his decision was still not firmly made, what if he did get caught, he would go away for a long time. Maybe he would be better laying low. He sat at the light and watched it change back to orange, then red.
Orange. The poor kid, first ever real robbery and it goes that badly.
The person situated behind him sounded as though they were banging on their car horn over and over in a fit of rage. He looked into his rearview mirror at the gestures he was receiving from the man, I doubt he would be doing that to me if he knew I tagged two cops earlier…. He reached for his gun, tempted to give this asshole the fright of his life, before coming to his senses. Patience, why couldn't the guy behind have a little patience, surely he wasn't in that big of a hurry. Missing one green light is not the end of the world.
That's when it dawned on him. Was he in a hurry? He could have just ditched the car and stayed at the house with his two injured chums, nobody would find him there. The light turned green once again, and instead of heading straight, Pink found himself turning the car back the way he came, cursing his own judgment.
Now you have to share the dough with the other two, you could have been fucking rich, well done genius.
Sorry about how short this chapter is, I will be sure to post another in the next couple of days to make up for my lousy word count. If you have time, please review, I would love the feedback!
