Kevin
... His name, pronounced with a soft voice almost maternal Lynn, appeared in his mind and he clung. It was his name and as he understood, he knew he was still alive.
Kevin tried to move but a sharp pain across his face. He groaned. He leaned on his arm and tried to open my eyes but something was stuck eyelids, preventing it from opening. It was cold. A breeze licked her hair black icing something wet on his cheek. He blinked, the liquid still clung eyelids. Water, blood? He did not know.
few scattered memories came back to memory. Flashes compiled by an apprentice fitter than epileptic sequences built by a renowned filmmaker. He saw himself out of the bathroom, near the room, crossing the threshold, then bang! Nothing.
What had happened?
He wanted to vomit and his stomach containing nothing but a vanilla ice cream and whiskey Coca him back the bile down his esophagus. Kevin
... His name kept him in consciousness. He tried to open his eyes but he could not. Kevin wanted the water, his tongue was swollen and he could not say a word.
He felt a presence around him. Do not she held her shoulders in a gesture maternal? He was not lying. This thought comforted him. It was nice to be a lightning war, we still pride and Kevin thought he found himself a little too much time on the ground since the beginning of this story. A shadow passed before his eyes. He tried again to open them but without success.
Kevin ....
- I tell you he is hurt.
- I understand your concern miss. Calm down.
- should take him to the hospital.
- We will be conducting when it is restored.
The stupidity of the argument whispered to Kevin that there should be cops around.
- I think it comes down to it. Said a third voice.
- Yes, he regains consciousness. Help the as'asseoir.
- Kevin you hear me?
He tried to answer but his vocal cords refused to obey.
- Water. Give him water. Something cool
passed between his lips and swallowed convulsively Kevin. The water was cool and welcome. Finally he felt his tongue and his throat was unlocked. He spent a damp cloth on the face and Kevin came to his senses and opened her eyes. He saw Lynn looked at him, holding him in her arms.
- That's better. She said, smiling. How do you feel?
- Should make a NFS, chemistry, iono, blood gases, and beeps Benton. Kevin said in a husky voice.
- There is a doctor? asked the cop.
- No it looks too "ER." Says Lynn.
Kevin looked around. Three cops watching him. The first, leaning on the bar, the cap "up 400" on the head, took notes the tongue between the lips as a first grade student absorbed by writing a line of "A". The second, the belt bears balls, talking on his walkie talkie and the third was kneeling beside him. "Surely the nerd who wants to wait until I recovered to take me at the hospital." A patrol of the LAC in all its magnificence. Kevin opted for a standard question but expedient
- Where am I? What happened?
- was my ex, I did not know he had kept a key to my house. It's been two months since I've dropped, but it has not yet understood.
- Want to complain? asked the cop kneeling.
- Yes, of course.
- Okay, so there's no hurry. Relax. You can come tomorrow and you will go to the police prior to the service of Victimology hospital they see your wounds.
- We'll get your abuser. You can rest easy, as we shake tonight.
The cop grabbed his belt and punctuated his sentence in the back so manly and gave the starting signal.
Kevin nodded. The third cop stood up and helped Kevin to pick up and installed on the sofa. Lynn uniforms accompanied her to the door and when she returned to the show Kevin said
- Certainly it says somewhere that every evening spent with you, I'd end up on the sofa.
Lynn tried to smile but could not do better than embarrassed grin.
- it hurt? asked you it by pressing gently with a cloth filled with ice on his eyebrows.
- Yes, but it's bearable.
In fact it was not at all. Kevin was like a bulldozer ran over him. But more than physical pain, mental anguish was even greater. Be done by a former nose while you leave the shower with a towel for clothing. All this was a vaudevillian whose side he could have done.
- I'm sorry.
- You need not be. It's not you who have extended. Did he do anything?
- No, he freaked out and he left.
Kevin had a headache. He pretended to get up.
- Where are you?
- I'm going home. I'll let you sleep. I am not very fit.
- Stay here. Anyway, you could not put your helmet. And
worse ... - And then?? Kevin insisted feeling that bad news did not get finished.
- Luke was a little off steam on your bike.
Kevin's shoulders sagged at once. He wanted to go out the window what was left of her beautiful green, but he does not care at once. "'ll See about that tomorrow. I had my dose for the day. "
- Will ask for a taxi.
- No rest please. I can not let you go like that.
Kevin did not want to stay. He had the face of Quasimodo, a bike in bulk and dignity lay six feet under in the cemetery of lost illusions. All he wanted was: to go home. Escape the sight of every human being. It was pretty ridiculous for the evening.
- But if you can. He said.
After calling a taxi from his laptop, Kevin Lynn kissed the tips of bruises and went to wait at the door. His motorcycle was there. They both had the same head. Though dented. The tank was smashed with headphones. His helmet. Its brand new Arai, who was lying next to the broken green spot that ran on the sidewalk. The marmoset was débéquillé Kawasaki and then dropped it was hard on the Leo Vince. Of course, all sensitive parts and tires, slashed with knives, had not escaped the wrath of the ex who considered himself a cuckold. Kevin turned around and saw that Harley was gone. This was tilt his head. Luke should be the harleyiste otherwise the Electra would trinquée too. With such a patient.
The taxi arrived and Kevin's support questions and attempts to talk the driver for several minutes. He looked at his watch. 3 am. It was little sleep for starting to work. They pass him. Anyway, he had to go testify and go to the hospital. He calls Nathan, the secretary to say he would not come. Arriving at the front door, he tried his keys. Unable to get hold of it. "And go! It continues! "Sighed he explains. He woke up the porter, no remorse after all, it was his turn to annoy the world, which began a quarter of an hour before responding. Lucien Adhemar Aupiguet that everyone called "Lulu" opened the door, grumbling. But relented when he saw bruises on the face of Kevin.
- Damn! You're the face more than a battered trench Verdun little guy!
Kevin thanked him for diagnosis, explained briefly what had happened and asked him to duplicate keys to his apartment. The old man did and not a party to its dragging cupboard keys.
He returned after five minutes on the bunch by hand.
- Oh boy. Are you sure you do not dive abuser keys? May need to change the locks.
- We'll see tomorrow, Lucien you do not mind?
- Yeah of course.
Kevin got into the elevator and, once arrived at the door of his apartment he took was hoped that Luke did not expect the door to finish. If it was he who had his keys. Then he shrugged his shoulders. He had his account. If this idiot was there, he ends up. Death would be a deliverance.
He would not die today. His apartment had not changed since his departure and there was no Hell's Angels psychopath under the bed and closets. In a fit of paranoia, Kevin had checked. He went into the bathroom to admire the extent of damage. Not nice to see: an arcade exploded and one or two good-sized blue. It would be worse in a few hours after the hematoma would have extended a bit.
He lay in bed and slept a troubled sleep.
The play was perfectly quiet, no noise filtering through the walls. Suddenly, in his half sleep, he heard something above the noise of his breathing. A tiny noise. Slip. The friction of a fabric. Someone moved nearby.
His heart began to pound in his chest. It was too sounded to get up so he decided to pretend to sleep. One moment he began to wish to faint again. He tried to identify the direction from which it seemed to come friction. Without success. He would leave when he heard a noise again stealth. This time it was on. Someone was moving around the room, or in the apartment. But where? There were not many places to hide and the headache that woke up the prevented setting anything.
Kevin wondered if his mind does not play him tricks. Then the noise began again. Closer. Near the bed. He already imagined Luke, brandished an ax over his head ready to give him the coup de grace, a gleam of madness in his eyes when he felt fresh lips landed on hers. He opened his eyes and curls lashes caressed it could in no case belong to a harleyiste denies. He would have recognized that hair is everywhere. He would say something when Lynn cut him short by asking a finger over his mouth.
- Shhh! Do not say anything. You had left your keys at home.
She slipped under the duvet and clapped his body against Kevin. Since he expected to live this moment as long dreamed, he said something he would never have believed it.
- No please. It will not work.
- Why? Asked you it gently.
- You know it's like when you have ants in one foot ...
- Yes, well, what? When it happens, I shake a little and I step down and pass it. A picture of Lynn
him knocking the service three rooms per floor with an air sadistic took shape in the mind of Kevin.
- It's not really a good idea, do not you think?
She snuggles against him in silence and the warm and tender touch made him spend his headache. Lynn had a relaxing effect more efficient and faster than all anxiolytics earth.
Kevin fell asleep almost immediately.
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