Chapter Seven
The officers approached with a sluggish swagger. Annoyance in their eyes. Dylan hoped this had more to do with the fact that they were aggravated by the tedium of downtown drunken brawls, and not a lackluster performance because they didn’t care for the victims of this assault.
Kaiden sat in an ambulance, being tended to by the EMTs. Rus described the truck the men took off in, and he did his best to describe the men, too. Dylan’s heart raced, pounding hard as he attempted to recall the details of his own.
It happened so quickly. The most he made out was that they were white, mostly. Probably. It was so dark, and a few wore hoods. It was so dark and brutal and fast.
Taking in the scrapes across Rus’ face, Dylan was mesmerized by how much he’d retained. Blood trickled down Rus’ forehead, tracing the wrinkles of his scowl as he yelled at the officer.
Daysha waded through the crowd, joining her friend and offering silent support. She didn’t speak to the officer; she didn’t move much—barely enough to breathe; she just stood there observing the scene unfold.
“You’re not listening to me,” Rus shouted. “This wasn’t some botched robbery. This was a goddamn hate crime, and you know it.”
“Been a lot of guys getting held up around here,” the officer replied. “They make themselves easy targets walking out alone with a stranger.”
“Yeah, made all the easier when the piggies are too lazy to even post up in the area,” Rus snapped. “You know, god forbid y’all actually watched an area where crimes took place.”
Heat flooded Dylan’s chest, thinking back to Jasmine’s warning.
The few incidents that’d taken place here, the concern she had, the fact he shrugged it off without a second thought.
Was this his fault? Should he have warned Kaiden?
Should he have suspected the guy flirting with Kaiden?
Were there others in the club tonight? How many people were being eyed for an attack?
What would’ve happened to Kaiden if Rus hadn’t intervened?
“There’s no one in the club that caused a problem,” Rus shouted, pulling Dylan from his worries and back to the cold night. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?”
The officers went to work clearing out Himbos, closing it early for the night as they questioned everyone.
“How do I make it any fucking clearer to you idiots? You need to be looking for the real perps!” Rus yelled at the main officer he’d been interviewed by. “They took off in a fucking dark blue truck. Six men. Likely overcompensating incels obsessed with their pencil dicks and red hats.”
Daysha swept in close, pulling Rus back as he attempted to approach the officer, bombard him with an angry rant.
“Sweetie, you know I love when you abuse your privilege for chaotic good,” Daysha said in a concerned hush. “But I’m gonna need you to reel it back, please.”
Rus eyed the officers, eyed his friend, and relented.
“Of course.” Rus panted to release some of his all-consuming rage. “Sorry.”
Dylan hadn’t noticed the tension in the officer’s stance, the deepened brow of offense, but he quickly picked up on it after spotting Daysha’s shaky stillness.
It seemed the officers didn’t care how determined Rus was or how vigilant he remained about having his case properly documented.
The officers had moved on to an easier target.
They held everyone from the club outside in the cold night air, checking I.D.s of all the guests, the go-go dancers, the bartenders.
They demanded the drag queens take off their makeup to verify their identities.
They performed a search throughout the entire club, claiming they wanted to find clues, but it was all too clear they didn’t give a fuck about the six men who assaulted Kaiden and Rus.
Dylan’s blood boiled, watching them intimidate people into emptying their pockets.
“Okay, no—I gotta say something.” Rus jerked loose from Daysha, who seemingly gave a look of approval as her tiny tyrant friend bulldozed through the crowd.
“No one here has to volunteer for a search,” Rus shouted, cupping his hands to amplify his voice.
“Many of you are too drunk to understand your rights. Say nothing. Walk away if you want. This is not a police state. This is an unlawful compliance check.”
Dylan didn’t know the first thing about his rights or if Rus was telling the truth. But considering how the officers staggered about, hesitating on their next move, he suspected they didn’t know either.
Unable to handle much more of this, Dylan made his way over to Kaiden, who’d stepped off the ambulance.
“You’re going to need stitches,” an EMT said.
“I’m fine, honestly.” Kaiden handed the EMT her blanket soaked in Kaiden’s blood. They’d bandaged him up some, but he was still in rough shape.
“You need to go to the hospital,” Dylan said.
“No, I don’t.” Kaiden shook his head, green eyes locked on the ambulance itself. “I’ll be fine.”
“You understand you’re refusing service,” the EMT said.
“Yes,” Kaiden replied.
“If it’s money, don’t worry about that,” Dylan insisted.
“Easy for you to say.” Kaiden gulped, his eyes dancing about, likely counting up all the expenses.
“There’s victims’ funds for this,” Dylan replied. “The paperwork’s a bitch, but I’ve gotten good at navigating it. They’ll cover the cost with or without insurance.”
Kaiden lingered, still reluctant as his face squirmed with fear.
The healthcare system sucked, and most people didn’t know the first thing about navigating it.
Dylan had learned every little trick, from free care, itemized billing, flat rate comps, and a thousand other things to ensure the residents at Dorothy’s Home always got the treatment they deserved.
“Get on the damn ambulance,” Dylan demanded. “Now.”
There wasn’t much Dylan could do about the six men who attacked Kaiden, who escaped in the night.
There wasn’t anything he could do about the officers’ lackluster attitudes.
But Dylan knew his way around the victim resources.
The benefit of having a shitty childhood and spending his teen years hustling.
Years at Jasmine’s side had taught Dylan how to access county, state, and federal resources that the government seemingly went out of their way to hide from their citizens.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital soon,” Dylan said, helping Kaiden onto the ambulance with the EMTs. “I promise.”
As they drove off, Dylan turned to steal Rus away from the officers.
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.” Rus glared.
“Not for you,” Dylan lied; he’d force Rus to get looked over once they arrived, but first and foremost, he wanted to make sure Kaiden got taken care of. “Kaiden needs us.”
“Right.” Rus nodded, then turned his attention back to the main officer he’d spoken with.
“Hey piggy, I have to go to the hospital to check on my friend. You know, the one who was assaulted in a gay bashing you did your damnedest to overlook. Don’t worry, though.
I got everyone’s badge numbers, and I’m persistent as fuck with follow-ups.
Best believe I will be chasing you and your pension. ”
“Let’s go.” Dylan tugged on Rus’ sleeve, wincing a bit at the blood soaking onto his friend’s shirt.
“Translation,” Rus shouted with a cupped hand. “Oink, oink, oinkity, oink, pig fuckers.”
The hospital visit was uncomfortable to say the least. Dylan dropped Daysha off first, against both of their wishes, but Rus insisted.
He didn’t want to drag her there half the night for a couple of scrapes.
He also tried convincing Dylan to drop him at the entrance and head home himself, but Dylan refused.
This was about more than Rus. Dylan needed to make sure Kaiden was all right, too.
It took hours of waiting with Rus before anyone saw him.
Even more hours before Dylan received an update on Kaiden’s state.
More hours of sitting in a waiting room with worn and exhausted people he’d never seen before, all hoping for some relief in whatever misery brought them to the hospital in the middle of the night.
The few times Dylan had nodded off, a sharp crick in his neck woke him up, and he jolted in his chair, startled and tired.
Rus came out first, glaring back at the staff before taking a seat beside Dylan.
They didn’t speak. They just waited in silence.
Though Dylan did notice the edge in Rus’ attitude simmered more the longer he stayed next to him.
Dylan was arrogant enough to believe his soothing aura might’ve calmed his friend.
But reality sank in, and Dylan suspected Rus had merely tuckered himself out by spewing rage half the night and literally getting into a six-on-one brawl.
“How’s your friend?” Dylan asked.
Rus quirked a brow.
“Daysha?”
“Sleeping, probably.” Rus shrugged. “Any updates on Kaiden?”
“Nope.”
In typical majestic Kaiden flair, he appeared from the sliding glass doors and stepped through into the waiting room area.
Only, there was nothing majestic about his entrance.
Usually, Kaiden had this knack for appearing when summoned or spoken about, or if he knew some random trivia on whatever topic was discussed in his absence.
It was one of Dylan’s favorite things about his friend.
Now though, Kaiden appeared worn and exhausted.
His eyes were swollen from crying and bruising.
Small nicks lined his exposed arms as he’d rolled his dress sleeves up.
Even his corset vest hung on him awkwardly.
When he approached, Dylan noticed the loops on the back were loose and semi-unraveled.
He must’ve taken it off for his exam and likely lacked the energy to redress.
“How are you?” Dylan rushed to his friend’s side, accompanied by a silent Rus.
“Just sleepy.” Kaiden tilted his head, almost resting it on his own shaky shoulder.