part 3: Brendan done fucked up... Again!
Dr. Daniel LaMotte, MD stood by the door, urgently awaiting Michelle Smith-Nguyen. They had urgent business to take care of, about which his friend Brendan could never find out. He stood at a towering 6"3; of Mexican and black ancestry, his black features were obscured by his whiteboy-ish looks. He paced about in anxiety, occasionally affecting his gaze to his window, impatiently waiting for Michelle.
"how the fuck could this bitch play me like this? After all the gucci sales I paid for." Brendan nguyen was in a state of shock. Faced with the possibility that his white indie wife could be eloping with his friend Daniel, a rage overtook him, burying his common sense, and unleashing his Vietnamese side. He fealt sweat descending his brow as he pulled up near daniel's street, and got out of his car, glock dug firmly into his sweaty hand.
"oh my god." Michelle was nervous. I mean, why wouldn't she be? She was pregnant with brendan's child. But she didn't want a baby, at least she didn't think so. She needed an abortion. Quick. The mini-Brendan inside of her wasn't nearly far along enough to warrant a full abortion. She was desperate. But Brendan had a friend. Dane. Or was it Dom? Either way, this fellow had offered her a cocktail of drugs strong enough to flush the growing-swagbr0 out of her body. But why was he so eager to give her the drugs? She stopped thinking. Thinking made her head hurt. She pulled up in Dom's driveway and entered the house.
"Michelle."
"Dom."
"it's Dan."
"ok Dan, do you have the drugs that will help get this out of me?"
Dan guided her to the couch, where they both sat down.
"listen Michelle", he started to explain, "take these pills right now, and then again in the morning." he held out a cluster of red and blue pills. "take two red and one blue at once", he continued.
Michelle thought long and hard, whispering dan's instructions again under her breath.
"okay", she finally said.
Brendan had never been so angry than he was at this moment. He could feel te adrenaline pump through his frail body, preparing him for fighting. But he wouldn't need that. He gripped the glock in his hand, his teeth clenched, and he kicked in dan's door. The bastard and Michelle were on the couch. "ho man", he screamed at the top of lungs. Although his voice was annoying, all the maliciousness of those two words were felt by all.
"Brendan!" Dan was confused. Why was brendan here? Michelle had told him that he was headed to NYC to meet with the boom/bap ✖✖✖✖✖s. His eyes were immediately drawn to something in brendan's hand. A gun. His eyes widened, threatening to pop out of his sockets. "wait." that was all he could say, before two deafening booms were heard.
"what are you doing, Brendan?" Michelle demanded to know why he had lied to her about his trip. But even more urgent was the lanky figure fallen onto a coffee table, two bloody shrapnel embeded in him. She rushed over to him.
Brendan dropped his weapon, not yet realizing the enormity of what he had just done.
Dan's breathes were short and shallow, becoming more progressively so with each passing second.
"Brendan", he began in a strained voice ,"michelle's baby.... not yours". He took a deeper breath, "I didn't want you to know... I wanted to protect you."
Brendan slowly brought himself to Dan, tears flowing down his cheeks. "Dan..." he couldn't find any words to say. Yale had not taught him these things. He kneeled at dan, facing his old friend. "Dan..so...sorry", he managed to say between heavy sobs.
Dan signalled for Brendan to come closer. He whispered weakly "Jordan". He stopped there.
Brendan took out his cellphone, and dialled 911. He turned to Michelle. "what did he mean by 'jordan"'?
"I don't know."
Brendan turned for the door. Michelle grabbed his un-brolic arm and deplored him to wait for the ambulance.
"I can't go down like this." and with those words, brendan dashed out the door. He had yet to comprehend or fully digest wha had just happened, before he grabbed a map. He dug out a pen from his pants and circled a small county in Florida. There was an old friend he needed to visit.
