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No Escape

Chapter 24

Yammy hadn't said a word to Kon, and it was beginning to worry him. Whatever his dad had planned, Kon wasn't going to like it. All he could do was keep his eyes open for the first chance he could get away.

Kon wasn't going to be happy until Yammy was back in prison where he belonged. Only then could he be sure Ririn was safe.

"I've got us a place all picked out," said Yammy.

"Where?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll see when we get there."

"How much farther is it?"

Yammy's hand shot out faster than Kon remembered and slapped the back of his head. Kon bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"You sound like some fucking kid. Grow up and shut up. We'll be there when we're there," said Yammy.

Kon refused to let his dickhead father intimidate him further. "Why did you even bother to bring me along?"

"You're my son," he said as if that explained everything. "You belong with me."

"I don't want to have anything to do with you! Why can't you get that through your thick skull?"

"That's just that goody two-shoes bitch you've been shacking up with talking."

"First, I'm not 'shacking up' with her. She's my foster mom, and she's not a bitch. Second, what the hell is that supposed to mean? She has nothing to do with me choosing not to be a part of your life. I chose that all on my own."

Yammy grunted. "You even sound like her, all high and mighty. I can tell I've got my work cut out for me."

Kon did not want to know what that meant. Whatever Yammy had planned, it couldn't be good. He needed to get the hell away from Yammy while he still could.

The hard edges of Kon's cell phone in his pants pocket pressed against his thigh, comforting him. He'd turned it off for school and hadn't had a chance to turn it back on again, so at least it wouldn't ring and give away the fact that he had a way to contact the police. All he needed now was a little privacy and the police would be hot on Yammy's tail.

Kon kept a close eye on the signs so he'd know where to tell the police to find them.

He wondered if Ririn was okay and if she'd ever speak to him again after seeing how ugly his roots were. Maybe it was better if she didn't. The thought made his stomach hurt, but he knew better than to fool himself into thinking it wouldn't matter to her. It would. How could it not matter to her? She'd seen what an asshole his father was. She had to know the apple never fell far from the tree. She was certain to move on to a better guy. That was the cold, hard truth, and there was no escaping it. Might as well suck it up and move on.

Story of his life.

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Ichigo was normally really good at keeping a level head. It was one of the things that made him a kick-ass sniper. But this was not normal. Rukia was sick, and he was pretty sure he knew why.

The tea. It was the only thing she'd had eaten or drunk that he hadn't.

He'd seen a poisoning only once before, and it hadn't been nearly as ugly as this was. That had been a quick, quiet death. There was nothing quiet about the way Rukia was thrashing around, like she was having a seizure.

Ichigo scrambled to get his cell phone out of his discarded jeans and dialed 911. He didn't even wait for the operator to finish his intro before he started talking. "My girlfriend's been poisoned!"

"Poisoned? Do you know how?"

"She drank some tea. There must have been something in it."

"I'm calling an ambulance for you now, sir. Please stay on the line."

"What should I do? Should I make her throw up?"

"No, sir. That can cause more harm than good. The ambulance will be-"

Rukia started seizing again, and Ichigo let the phone drop so he could keep her from hurting herself. He held her body tight against his and whispered into her ear, "You're going to be fine, Rukia. Help is on the way."

She let out a low, pained moan that nearly stopped Ichigo's heart. She was hurting, and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it.

Rage fountained up inside him, making him shake with the force of it. Someone had hurt his Rukia, and they were going to PAY!

The paramedics arrived, and Ichigo sprinted downstairs to let them in. They hauled in their equipment and knelt beside Rukia.

"Tell us what happened here," said one of the paramedics. He was in his midthirties and had an air of calm competence about him that made Ichigo move aside and put Rukia into his seemingly capable hands.

"She's a teacher. One of the kids at school gave her some tea. It was these flower ball things that opened up when you put them in hot water. We shared lunch, and that was the only thing she had that I didn't."

He swabbed Rukia's arm for an IV. "Is she on any medication?" he asked.

"I don't know." Admitting it made him sick. He didn't know her at all. Why hadn't he taken the time to get to know her better? Why hadn't he insisted on finding out more about her?

Because he never did. That's why. No ties, no commitments. Just sex.

He was such a fucking shallow asshole for not caring more.

"Would she have any reason to want to hurt herself?" asked the female paramedic, giving Ichigo a mistrustful scowl. She was younger than her partner, with a cynical bitterness about her that came only from learning the hard way not to trust people.

"Hurt herself?" asked Ichigo, not understanding what she meant.

"Kill herself," said the woman in a flat, indifferent tone.

"God, no! Rukia would never do anything like that!"

"Hiyori, I can't get a line in. You try."

Hiyori moved around Rukia just as another seizure wracked her body. "Hold her down," she ordered.

Ichigo helped them hold her still while he tried not to let himself think about what could happen.

He couldn't lose her. Not Rukia.

Finally, Hiyori managed to get an IV started. He only hoped that it would help flush the shit out of her system.

"Her pulse is getting weaker," said the man. "We need to move."

"Where's the stuff you think poisoned her?" asked Hiyori. "We'll need to bring it with us."

"In the kitchen. I'll get it."

He raced downstairs and grabbed the bag of tea. The paramedics were already on their way down with her, so Ichigo followed in their wake.

Hiyori stopped him from getting into the back of the ambulance. "I'll take that, sir." She held her hand out for the tea.

"I'll carry it." He started to step up into the back of the ambulance when Hiyori grabbed his arm and stopped him while snatching the bag of tea from his hand.

"I think it would be best if you followed us in your own car."

"I want to be with her."

"I understand that, sir, but we need the room to work." It was a lie. Ichigo could hear it in her tone. But why would she lie about that? Why wouldn't she want him to ride along?

"Oh God! "You think I poisoned her?"

"I'm not saying that, sir. I just think it would be best if you followed behind us. Besides, you're still not wearing any clothes."

Ichigo looked down and realized he was wearing only his underwear, standing out on the street. Not that he gave a fuck what Rukia's neighbors thought of him, as long as he was with her and she was safe. "Please! I'd never do anything to hurt her! Just let me come with you."

"They won't let you in the hospital like that. Go get dressed and follow us. We're wasting time arguing." With that, Hiyori shut the doors and the ambulance drove off with the wail of sirens floating behind them.

Ichigo stood there in shock. He should have been cold, but instead, he was just numb. Rukia might be dying, and he was at least partially responsible.

He'd fed her poisoned tea.

She said she loved him.

His brain couldn't wrap around any of it. For the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do. This was all too much, and he had no one to turn to. His friends were busy dealing with their own problems, the police had already thought he might be the killer, and the only person in this whole town who gave a shit about him might be dying.

He was alone and powerless to do anything to help Rukia.

Ichigo didn't know how long he stood there, but he was shivering when he finally pulled himself together enough to go back in the house. Two minutes later, he was in his car, dressed, and screeching down the quiet neighborhood street toward the hospital.

One thing was for sure, he was no longer waiting around for the police to find the fucking killer. He was going to hunt the bastard down himself and take him out. Head shot. Nice and clean and guaranteed to work every time.

Or maybe it would be slow and tortuous. The fucker certainly would deserve it. Too many good people had died by his hand. But even worse than that was the certainty of all the pain Rukia had to be going through because of him.

If he was going to be in this alone, he was going to do it his way. No matter what it cost him.

AN

Grim, huh. Can you blame him? The next chapter should be here soon. Stay alert. Review please!