Wounded (In My Dreams)
A Supernatural Script Inc. Book
A Supernatural Script Inc. Book
In My Dreams 1: Wounded
Copyright © 2014 Erin R. Flynn
E-book ISBN: 978-1-940036-28-1
First E-book Publication: July 2014
Editing by Jae Ashley
Cover design by Heidi Sutherlin
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. It is fiction so facts and events may not be accurate except to the current world the book takes place in.
Acknowledgements
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following trademarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
10 Minute Trainer
: Beachbody, LLC
Abercrombie
: Abercrombie & Fitch Trading Co.
Amazon
: Amazon Technologies, Inc.
Axe
: Conopco, Inc.
Ben-Gay
: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Blu-ray
: Blu-ray Disc Association
Bob Vila
: B.V.T.V., Inc.
Bowflex
: Nautilus, Inc.
Costco
: Costco Wholesale Membership, Inc.
Dial
: Pure & Natural Company
Disney
: Disney Enterprises, Inc.
Dr. Pepper
: Dr Pepper/Seven Up, Inc.
Facebook
: Facebook, Inc.
Frozen
: Walt Disney Animation Studios
G6
: General Motors LLC
Google
: Google, Inc.
Grimm
: Universal Television
Guinness
: Guinness World Records Limited
Hercules (The Legend of)
: Summit Entertainment LLC
Hy-Vee
: Hy-Vee, Inc.
I, Frankenstein
: Lionsgate Entertainment, Inc.
IHOP
: IHOP IP, LLC
iPod
: Apple, Inc.
Keurig (and K-cup)
: Keurig, Inc.
Lysol
: Reckitt Benckiser LLC
Marine Corps
: US Marine Corps, a component of the US Department of the Navy
McDonald’s
: McDonald’s Corporation
Menards
: Menard, Inc.
Mountain Dew
: Pepsico, Inc.
Ninja
: Euro-Pro Operating LLC
Post-It Notes
: 3M Company
Red Lobster
: Darden Concepts, Inc.
Rooty Tooty Fresh ‘N Fruity
: IHOP IP, LLC
Splenda
: McNeil Nutritionals, LLC
Starbucks
: Starbucks Corporation
Taco Bell
: Taco Bell Corp.
Target
: Target Brands, Inc.
The Mortal Instruments
: Cassandra Clare, LLC &
Tide
: The Proctor & Gamble Company
Tim Allen
: Dick, Timothy Alan
Woolite
: Reckitt Benckiser LLC
World War Z
: Paramount Pictures
UPS
: United Parcel Service of America, Inc.
X-box
: Microsoft Corporation
1
Most people complained or picked on gas station coffee. It was even a running gag that only hospital food being horrible beat it. But still, thousands of people across the country got it every day because it was easy, cheap, and already where they need to stop.
I wasn’t most people. It was a
treat
for me because it had real sugar. Those goofy-flavored cappuccino machines were the highlight of needing gas for me. No, I never claimed to be remotely normal.
Just overweight.
And to make things worse, I filled the last quarter of the cup with ice—because I didn’t like
hot
coffee. Lukewarm or iced. That was what tickled my fancy. That was a lot of detail for one drink, but that was what you focused on when the scariest thing ever happened to you—the details sear into your brain.
That day I’d gone with a caramel white chocolate large one, glancing at the donuts and reminding myself they’d probably been sitting there for hours and were
so
not worth the calories.
Then people screamed.
I knocked the cup, spilling scalding liquid all over my hand as I turned to the door and saw the man with gun. Faster than I would have thought I was able to move, I darted behind the condiments counter, the gunman a blur. Part of me wanted to chew myself out for not getting a better view of the guy, the police would need that later. The
sane
part of me patted myself on the back for thinking so quickly.
“Money. I want the money,” someone demanded and I didn’t need three guesses who was speaking. “And the expensive booze back there. The good stuff.”
“Yeah, sure. Take whatever you want,” a woman whimpered. Tears burned in my eyes at the fear in her voice. It wasn’t like I would have traded places with her, but I did wish there was some way I could help her without getting
shot
. Then again, sometimes people tried to be heroes and made the situation worse. I made a mental note to remind myself of that later.
“Faster!” the same man snarled.
I won’t judge if she pees herself. I might have.
I rolled my eyes. What a random thought. My parents would be very disappointed with the lack of manners I was mentally having as I crouched there looking out the windows and praying the police somehow showed up.
At least that was a better use of the time.
Something brushed my shoulder as it moved past me. Then I heard someone hiss behind me and I realized why when I glanced at what it had been.
A kid.
I wasn’t thinking—and that was what I’d say later—when I jumped up from my spot and grabbed the little girl’s arm. I quickly shoved her back to where I saw her parents hiding, cursing how
stupid
they were to not have held on to her better.
And debating calling Child and Family Services that they
hadn’t
gone after her.
“What are you doing over there?” the man bellowed. My heart stopped as I realized he was talking to me. I slowly turned towards him with my hands up, thinking that I might throw up instead of pee my pants when I focused on the barrel of the gun pointed in my direction. “I asked what you’re doing!”
“I tripped,” I lied, swallowing loudly. “I was hiding and I tripped. I’m sorry.”
“Keep filling the bag,” he snapped at the poor attendant before taking a step towards me. “I could shoot you!” I saw his eyes darting around wildly and my heart sunk in my stomach. He was high. I mean high as a mother fucking
kite
kinda high.
“My name is Lily Slone,” I blurted, remembering somewhere that if you personalized yourself that a gunman was less likely to shoot you. “I’m thirty years old. I live here in Bellevue. I grew up in Chicago. I have an older brother and a younger sister. I’m an author—”
“I hate authors. They took my spot with publishers,” he seethed, taking another step closer.
“I’m not with a publisher. I self-publish.” Yeah, not my finest moment, and not completely true but I didn’t think the drug-influenced gunman holding up the gas station was going to Google me at the moment.
“And you made it
that
way? Why you? Why not me?”
“I’m not Danielle Steele,” I squeaked. “No one’s ever heard of me. I just do the best I can.”
“I could write what you do. I could become you.”
Right because no one would ever tell anyone that he’d killed me and the crazy man could just pick up in my series without there being any continuity issues.
Sure he could
.
He cocked the gun and my brain froze. There was nothing left to say that could help me when talking had made things
worse
. Plus he was bat shit crazy.
A cammies-covered figure
plowed
into the gunman, and on instinct, I dropped to the ground. The shot echoed in the store and I begged whoever was listening that no one got hit when he’d been aiming for me. I heard some grunting and looked up in time to see the soldier punch the guy twice in the face. Then he picked up the gun and tucked it into the back of his pants before glancing at me. He gave me a nod that everything was okay and I was staring into the prettiest green eyes I’d ever seen.
And not just because he’d saved my life. No, they were a bright green with flecks of blue in them, but not hazel.
Focus. Stop acting like a loony toon
.
I slowly got to my feet, my legs shaking and my knees sore from dropping to the hard tile so fast. That was going to bruise later—a bruise I’d love because I was still
alive
.
The soldier walked out the door, and I blinked after him, shocked that was how he was reacting. Then again, he just dove at an armed man. He could sing a happy tune and he’d still be my favorite person for a long,
long
time.
I followed him, reaching the doors just as the police pulled up. I sighed, relief swarming me… Until they hopped out and pointed their guns at my savior. And being the bright,
bright
woman I was, I jumped in front of him.
“It wasn’t him!” I shouted when they bellowed for me to get out of the way. “He just saved my life. Ask the people inside. The robber is unconscious on the ground because this guy stopped him.” I felt a heavy hand on my back and that was just enough distraction for one of the policeman to grab my arm and yank me out of the way. “Don’t! He’s not the criminal!”
“Ma’am, calm down,” he bitched as I pulled against him. Two other officers went to the soldier and roughly took the gun tucked in the back of his pants and shoved the guy against the closed doors, his head turned to the side and facing me. I winced as I saw the pain in his expression.
“So help me god, I will tell
every
news outlet and anyone who will listen that you’re assaulting the fucking
hero
here if you touch him again!”