“You drugged me?” I teeter on the edge of the chair as I try to stand. My hand goes for the gun in my waistband, but my hands are lead. My feet are lead. Everything is fucking lead, and nothing works. “Whoops! You won’t be needing that,” she says as she snatches the gun away from me. “You might want to sit down. That shit hits really fast and pretty hard, and I don’t have what I need to patch you up if you split something open. I mean, I work at a hospital, but I’m no nurse.” Her voice fades as I crumple to the floor. I’ve gone from the frying pan to the fire, and now I’ve transitioned
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