Chapter 7

In the hospital, Bosco tries to start something with both Cruz and Davis, but Monroe puts him in his place.

"Hospitals always have the worst coffee," Cruz thought. "Hospitals and police stations. You're under stress, and they give you a cup of sludge or brown water that they try to pass off as coffee. At least it helps you forget what you're there for."

She took another sip of the bitter liquid and let out a long sigh, leaning back onto the hard, "leather" covered chair. She'd been sitting in the OR waiting room for over an hour without any word from the doctors on Sully's condition. He had been in the ER for about thirty minutes before that while they stabilized him. Davis and Monroe arrived about forty minutes before, and they had exchanged some small talk. Davis was obviously worried about his partner, and with good reason: Sully had been hit in the head with God-knows-what, and then he'd been shot. Davis had asked her several times what had happened, and she had told him several times that she did not know. She was in her apartment when she heard the gunshot, and she had not seen anything. The gunman had already disappeared by the time she had reached Sully.

Ty Davis half-heartedly flipped through an old copy of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition that was lying on the table in front of him. He was so worried about Sully that he could barely see straight. Sully was his best friend, more like a father or big brother than anything. Sully had even taken the test to get into law school when Davis was nervous about the test.

And Davis had been there for Sully in many ways as well. He was there for Sully when Tatiana was murdered; he was there for Sully when Sully had developed a drinking problem. The two partners cared about each other more than most people cared for their own families. Truth was, they were family. They had risked their lives together almost daily to help people they did not even know. And now, one of the members of that family had been brought down outside of work, and the son-of-a-bitch that put Sully was going to pay for that, probably with his pathetic, miserable life.

Maurice "Bosco" Boscorelli entered the waiting room, his eyes locking on one person instantly: Cruz.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted forcefully at her.

"Bosco, I..."

"No, what the HELL are you doing here?!"

"Bosco, back off," Davis said, suddenly standing up.

"I just wanna know why the hell this bitch is here." Bosco said harshly.

"She's here because Sully was shot outside her apartment building on his way to a date with her," Davis replied, getting into Bosco's face.

"You wanna start something, Davis?" Bosco asked.

"Hell no, I wanna finish it!"

"Guys, guys, GUYS! Stop it! You're acting like immature fourth graders!" Monroe shouted. "Sully is in there fighting for his life, and you guys are out here fighting for the hell of it! Do you two realize that you sound like idiots? Now, shut the hell up and sit down. And Bosco, leave her alone."

"What?" Bosco said.

"You heard me. Leave Cruz alone. She's upset right now. She and Sully were going on their second date tonight. Don't harass her. Is that clear?" Monroe said, forcefully.

"Clear as a bell," Bosco replied.

"Good. Now, sit down, far away from her, and don't even so much as give her a dirty look. If you do, I'll make damn sure you'll never be able to have sex again." Monroe said, her and Davis returning to their seats.

"Looks like someone OD'd it on the bitch pills today," Bosco muttered.

"Oh, grow up," Cruz said without looking up.