CHAPTER 4: THE GOOD SAMARITAN
1369 Words
BEN
Right now, I'm regretting coming across him.
Why in Heaven's name did I even decide to help him?
I've always known my big heart is gonna put me in trouble one day—and that day is today.
What do I tell these cops if I'm questioned?—It’s not even a matter of IF, it's a matter of WHEN. Cause I'm a hundred percent sure they're here for me, and I'm gonna be questioned.
One of them wore a uniform, and the other one wore plainclothes with a worn leather badge clipped to his belt.
“Welcome, officers,” Doctor Julia greeted, extending her hands for a handshake from both of them.
“Thanks for having us, Dr julia,” one of them replied.
“It's a good thing you notified us immediately. It'll make our job easier” he added.
He seems like the senior here.
“Oh, and this is the man who brought the patient in,” she said, pointing towards me.
“Hello, sir. I'm James” I greeted him nervously.
“Hello, sir,” the one who's been conversing with the doctor replied, extending his hand for me to shake.
I took his hands and shook them calmly, trying my best not to show how nervous I was, not to raise suspicion.
Judging from the way they're conversing, I can tell this is not their first time being here.
“I'm Detective James Long, NYPD, and this is Patrol Officer Blake Layman,” he said, introducing themselves with a stern look on his face.
He's black, short, with nice sets of teeth, and a well-trimmed mustache.
He looks heavily built like he spends all his time at the gym.
He's good-looking—I must admit
Focus Ben, focus.
“Can you tell us what happened?” He asked which made me shift uncomfortably.
I need to tell them a story that aligns with the lie I told this doctor. Or should I just tell them the truth? They might not believe me and question why I lied to the doctor in the first place, which might land me in very big trouble.
God knows I hate getting myself involved with the police.
“Sure, why not?” I replied, then proceeded to tell them how I saw him by the roadside, adding a twist at the beginning to match with the lies I told the nurses and doctor Julia about my relationship with him.
I told them he's my friend and he told me he wanted to go hiking in the forest where I saw him crawl out from.
“When I didn't see him, nor hear from him after many hours, I decided to go look for him. After driving around for almost an hour, I saw him crawling out from the forest, wounded and bleeding” I narrated
“I got out of the car, ran to him, and picked him up. He told me he was attacked by some rogues in the forest before he passed out”, I added.
“Is that all?” He asked whilst writing down my story on the notepad he took out from his pocket.
“Absolutely” I replied
“And where is this man” he asked again
“He just came out of surgery not too long ago and he's still unconscious. But he's stabilized and is in ward 7A” Doctor Julia replied this time.
“We'll need to take a look at him,” the other cop said whilst taking a look at me.
He's white, muscular, and good-looking too.
“Sure. I'll lead the way,” Dr. Julia said standing up from her seat behind the desk, making her way towards the door.
We all followed her and walked down to the ward.
She opened the door and we walked inside.
Don't be awake yet, I prayed in my mind.
It's funny how a few hours ago, I was praying for him to wake up quickly, but here I am, praying for the opposite.
Don't get me wrong, I want him to wake up—but not now. Cause if he did, they'll question him and our stories will contradict.
“He's still unconscious,” she said whilst checking him.
“It might take some hours before he wakes up” she stated.
“No problem. We'll be back”, Serg. James replied, and they turned to leave.
“What's his name?” He asked turning to face me, which caught me off guard.
Shit! I knew this was coming.
I racked my brain to quickly come up with something tangible.
“The Giant is what I know him as”, I said quickly coming up with a lie to back it up
“You don't know his real name?” He asked
“It’s a nickname someone gave him cause of his physique. It stuck on him, and no one bothers asking for his real name,” I added, praying he doesn't question it further.
“Has he got any ID we can see to verify his identity?”, he questioned again to my annoyance
“Well, like I told you earlier, he was attacked by some rogues and they took everything on him”, I responded trying to sound a bit annoyed to make them believe my story is genuine.
“Okay, we'll take our leave now. But we'll be back later, and please, we'll be glad if an ID is ready for us to confirm his identity”, he said whilst motioning for his colleague to follow him.
“And Mr James, do stick around, because we'll need to check if your story aligns with his when he wakes up”, he stated.
“No problem Sergeant”, I replied.
“Dr. Julia, I'd like to have some words,” he said to her, and they left the room, leaving me alone with him.
Fuck! That was close.
Why did I just keep putting my neck out for someone I barely know?
I can hear him snoring quietly. Taking a look at him, he looks peaceful, oblivious of what's happening, nor the risk I'm taking to save his life and to save him from troubles.
What if all the stress and troubles I went through were for nothing?
What if he's a bad person or a criminal who happens to escape near death?
Nah, he can't be.
He looks too cute to be a criminal
What the f**k am I even saying? Who said cute people can't be evil?
Why on earth are my thoughts fighting each other?
Right now, I'm starting to sound like Po in Kungfu Panda
Damn! This dude’s got me all f****d up, imagining s**t and arguing with myself.
I took another look at him, and all I can say is, this dude's freaking cute.
He's got eyes too beautiful for a man.
He looks like an AI-generated image—very unbelievable.
The hospital gown couldn't hide his muscular body. It's very tight on him and it looks like it's going to rip into pieces if he moves too much.
Damn! He's fine as hell.
You'll mistake him for an angel—except for the fact that all the angel images we do see are of white people.
Hey, don't quote me wrong. I'm not trying to be racist here—just stating facts.
Any lady who gets married to this man should consider herself lucky. He's just f*****g perfect.
Those were the thoughts on my mind before I drifted off to sleep.
I woke up later, yawning.
How long was I asleep, I asked no one in particular.
Turning on my phone, I checked the time and I realized it's six in the morning. I wasn't asleep for too long—just a couple of hours.
I looked at him, and he was still asleep.
Then I saw his eyelids twitching—next, he was trying to move his body.
Finally, he opened his eyes, turned his head, and stared faintly at me.
“He's waking up,” I said loudly and joyfully.
Hold on a sec.
Are those—fangs?
- Writer
