Page 145 of Happy Hour

“What the fuck!” the man cried in pain but I knew that voice. How could I not...no one else had that rich raspy but velvet voice,no one.

“Jameson?” I asked hesitantly, Logan and Lucas started giggling.

“Yes it’s me...what the hell?” he grunted in pain. “I think you hit bone...goddamn itEmma!” he continued to scream in pain on the floor.

I quickly scrambled over to him, and though I couldn’t see clearly with the lack of light, I could vaguely see the outline of Emma’s weapon, impaled in Jameson’s right shoulder and blood.

“Emma!” I screeched reaching for a flash light. “Youstabbedhim.”

“Like I knew it was him.” Emma defended. “He should have said something!”

“Said something?” his voice took on a panicked edge but remained harsh. “Fuckkkkk...this hurts...damn you Emma.” Jameson slammed his fist on the ground and then moaned in agony having jarred himself.

“Maybe we should take him to the hospital. I think I did hit his bone...” Emma admitted quietly backing away from Jameson who was screaming again because Logan pushed on the fork.

“Get him away from me!” Jameson growled fiercely my direction. My arms instinctively reached out to Logan, fearing for his safety. “Stay away from me.”

“Why are you all wet and muddy?” I asked examining his shoulder.

He winced as I felt around his wound. It was bleeding but not terribly. Probably because the fork was still in there. Once it was pulled out, I was sure this would need stitches.

“If you haven’t noticed...it’s fucking raining out.”

I could tell he was pissed but he didn’t need to be mean with me. I wasn’t the one that stabbed him.

“Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t stab you!”

Jameson gingerly rose from the floor using the wall for support, panting. “I’m sorry...god, it hurts so fucking bad!” He groaned holding up his forearm with his left arm, careful not to let the weight of it his pull on his shoulder.

“I think we should pull it out.” Lucas suggested jumping up in a chair he pulled over. “Can I do it?” he asked bouncing, his eyes wide and excited. “Please, can I do it?”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jameson seethed backing away from him. “Don’ttouch me!”

“Okay, both of you,” I motioned to the boys. “No one touches Jameson. He’s got...” Eyeing his protective injured stance, I settled on, “anger issues.”

Emma moved closer to Jameson but he backed away. “Jameson, I’m really sorry. Like,reallysorry. I thought you were Carol Anne.”

“Who the hell is Carol Anne?” He snarled still not letting any of us close to him. He reminded me of an injured animal who wanted nothing to do with humans. I wondered, though briefly, if he’d crawl off to die alone.

“From Poltergeist,” said Emma with a careless but still timid shrug.

“That’s a fucking movie...it’s make believe you shit head!” Jameson snapped. “I swear to god Emma, if I can’t race...I’m stabbing you.”

“That’s a little harsh,” was Emma’s reply.

“No one is doing any more stabbing.” I yelled breaking up their silly fight and needing to collect my thoughts. I couldn’t focus with all this yelling and accusing. “Let’s go Jameson. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No, no, no...you’re not leaving me here alone with them.” Emma objected pointing at the Lucifer twins while they tormented Jameson.

“Fine,” I groaned. “All of you get in the car.”

“No,” Jameson interjected immediately. Just the very thought had made his face pale, or so I thought. “I’m not going anywhere with stabberally over there...fuck no.” he shook his head violently. “No fucking way.”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Emma smacked Jameson on the shoulder, the bad shoulder. “I didn’t mean to stab you!”

“SON OF A BITCH!” Jameson screamed dropping to the floor. “Get the fuck away from me, Emma! I will pull this out right now and stab you with it if you touch me again.”

“Why are you being so mean to me?” she asked getting in his face again. “I said I didn’t do in intentionally.”

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