Shadows In Durango

*****Vincent's POV*****

The cold, damp walls of the cell seemed to swallow in around me, making it hard to think straight.

The adrenaline that had fueled me through the chaos was gone now, leaving behind an aching body and a racing mind that wouldn't quite quit. Daryl's bloodied body kept flashing in front of my eyes, his labored breaths and fading consciousness haunting me with every second that passed.

I sat on the edge of the narrow bed, hands still trembling despite the weight of the handcuffs having long been removed.

My head pounded, not from the lucky punch Ashton had managed to land, but from the anxiety gnawing away at me.

Was Daryl even still alive?

The paramedics had worked frantically over him, but I didn't get a chance to know if they'd gotten him to the hospital in time or not...

I had tried asking the officers when they threw me in here, but no one would tell me anything. One of them had muttered something about "waiting for statements," but none of that mattered until I knew if Daryl was going to pull through. My best friend, regardless if we fought all the time, we were like brothers.

The guy who would've taken a bullet for me - who basically did take a bullet for Sofia, being the first one to charge in there to try and help without waiting for backup, probably not even knowing that he had a fucking gun waiting for him! I ran my hand down my face, feeling the sting where Ashton's punch had connected. A small price to pay considering the damage I'd left him with.

He deserved every single hit given and if I could have had things my way, I would have locked him up to torture him for the foreseeable myself for what he had done.

I should've acted faster. I should've been there sooner. I should have told Daryl to wait for us at least...

But it was too late now...

The heavy clang of a door opening broke through my thoughts.

I looked up and waited, hearing the keys jingle momentarily before I see the same officer who had processed me step inside.

His face was unreadable, a clipboard in hand as he glanced down at me. "Vincent Walker?" He recites.

"Yeah," I muttered, rising to my feet, tension tightening in my shoulders. "Any news on my friend? The guy they took to the hospital? Is he good?" I basically beg for information.

He hesitated, eyes flicking up from his notes. That brief hesitation made my heart plummet into my stomach.

"Is he " I started, but the officer raised a hand.

"He's still in surgery, nobody knows his condition yet," he said, and my knees almost buckled from the relief that hit me. Still in surgery meant he was still fighting. "They're doing everything they can. That's all we know for now." I nodded, swallowing hard, feeling the weight of it all crushing down into me again. "Thanks," I said, though the words felt empty.

The officer nodded, before continuing on with whatever reason he had showed up to my cell for.

"Your father is here, he showed us the footage you have of the young man taking your girlfriend after she passed out on the street. Your girlfriend confirmed this story too. We found evidence that he was also holding her captive in the basement - also matching up to her statement - and so for that, you are free to go, at least for now. It looks to us that you all acted in self defence." He explains, as my jaw slackens slightly at his words.

I can leave now... which means I can go to the hospital to see Daryl!

"But we will need an official statement from you on what happened, would you prefer to do that now or to come back tomorrow?" He tests, as I think on it briefly.

"Tomorrow. I'd like to visit my friend at the hospital." I confirm with a stiff nod, as the officer sighs and nods once before beginning to lead me out.

As I followed the officer out of the holding area, the cold walls of the police station gradually gave way to the dim lighting of the reception. The steady hum of murmured voices and ringing phones washed over me, but I barely registered any of it.

My mind was fixated on one thing: Daryl.

The moment we stepped through the door into the lobby, I spotted my parents waiting for me. My mother rushed towards me, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor as I wanted to scream at her to fuck off.

Her face was painted with makeup and faux concern, her arms outstretched as she closed the distance between us.

"Vincent!" she cried out, her voice thick with emotion as she threw her arms around me in a tight embrace.

But I could feel the stiffness in her touch too practiced, too perfect. It wasn't real. Not for me. Not for anyone but the audience of officers surrounding us.

I let her hug me for a second before I shrugged her off, stepping back. "Not right now," I muttered, irritation creeping up into my tone.

I knew this was all for show.

Her eyes darted around the room, no doubt making sure the officers nearby were watching her display of motherly concern. The same officers that had no doubt bedded her in the past to settle a deal or two with my father - I wasn't born yesterday!

"Vincent, honey, I was so worried when they called "

"Yeah, sure," I cut her off, stepping past her and towards my stern looking father.

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My father was only a few feet away, more composed as usual. He wasn't one for emotional outbursts, not like my mother. He had always been the controlled one, the politician. He walked up to me, placed a firm hand on my shoulder, and gave it a squeeze.

"You did good, son," he said, his voice low and measured.

He was probably the only father in the world proud to be collecting his son from the police station!

Then, turning to the officer who had escorted me out, he added with a warm smile, "Thank you, Bill. We appreciate everything you've done for my boy."

The chief officer, Bill, gave a slight nod, a glimmer of familiarity passing between them. I hadn't missed the way my father used his first name - an old connection, a favor called in.

Of course, they knew each other. My father knew everyone worth knowing in this town.

Bill cleared his throat. "Of course, Mr. Walker. Just doing my job for my citizens." He winks swiftly, as my father chuckles and nods.

The polite exchange made my skin crawl. It was a reminder of how different my world was from others'.

My father always knew how to manipulate the system, how to pull the strings that needed pulling. But none of that mattered to me right now. All I cared about was getting to the fucking hospital.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

"I need to see Daryl," I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. "Now."

My father raised a brow but nodded. "Of course. Let's go then."

Without another word, he led the way out to the car, his arm casually resting on my shoulder like we were having a normal father-son moment.

But nothing about this was normal.

Not for me.

My friend had just been shot and could very much die in the near future!

The drive to the hospital was silent as expected.

My mother tried to ask questions - what had happened, how Sofia was doing as if she cared, but I only gave her short, clipped answers. She was a big part of why Sofia even left my place that night to begin with - I hadn't forgot about that!

I wasn't in the mood for explanations or small talk with either of them, not when I felt like this.

My head was spinning with everything that had happened, with everything I still didn't know about Daryl's condition.

When we finally pulled up to the hospital, I didn't wait for him to park up before jumping out. The sterile scent of disinfectant hit me as soon as I entered the lobby.

I rushed to the waiting room where I knew they'd be, scanning the rows of chairs until I found them. Reid, Emma, and Sofia who were huddled together in one corner, all looking like they hadn't slept in days.

Sofia's face was pale, her eyes puffy and red from crying. Emma sat beside her, holding her hand tightly, while Reid stared blankly down at the floor, his leg bouncing restlessly.

As soon as they saw me, all three of them stood up. Sofia moved first, her eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of relief and guilt.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I beat her to it.

"How's Daryl?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer.

Reid stepped forward, his expression grim. "He's stable for now. Still critical, but the doctors said he made it through the worst of it so far so that's hope." His voice was tired, strained, like he hadn't spoken in hours. I let out a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. "Ok that's good," I muttered, running a hand through my hair.

Sofia stepped closer, her hand reaching for mine. "Vincent, I—"

But I couldn't do this with her.

Not right now.

I gently pulled my hand away, not ready for whatever she was about to say. "Not now," I said, shaking my head. "I just need to deal with Daryl." I state, dryer than intended.

Emma glanced toward the hallway where the intensive care unit was located. "They're only letting in family for now, but we've been asking the nurses to give us updates." Family.

I wasn't Daryl's family by blood, but that didn't mean shit!

"I'll make them let me fucking in," I state, determined that I was going to see him, no matter what it took.

As I started toward the ICU, I could feel Sofia's eyes on my back, her words hanging in the air between us, left unspoken.

There'd be time for that later.

Right now, all that mattered was Daryl.