I had no idea how I’d ended up at the city hospital. I would’ve expected DeLuca to dump me in the desert. “I don’t know.” My admission came out hopeless and helpless. I refused to be either.
Time to stiffen your spine.
“Don’t worry about it. The police will figure it all out for you. They were here to see you today.”
I doubted they could help. The police weren’t a match for DeLuca. No one was. Fear backed up in my throat and I choked on it. I hated to be afraid, but I was in the fucking hospital. I wouldn’t be here if I’d been less confident and more scared. Or at least more cautious.
“Anyway, your left zygomatic bone was fractured, dented in.” She brushed the air above my left cheekbone. “The doc did reconstructive surgery—she’s one of the best plastic surgeons in the city. That was the worst injury.”
My cheekbone dented in. Well, there went my looks. What else had the monsters done? Had they raped me?
Laura kept talking before I could spit out my question. “...three cracked ribs on the right side and one on the left side—those can be painful as they heal. You’re bruised head to toe and you have damage to your inner thighs and genitals—” She glanced away from me.
“Was I...” I cleared my throat and asked the question burning bright in my mind. “Was I raped?” It came out a hushed whisper. Shame filled me and that was total bullshit, but I felt what I fucking felt.
“Oh no, dear.” She clasped both my hands. “You were not raped, that came back negative.” She smiled at me. “I’m making a mess of this. That’s why the doctors normally do this part.” She gave a small laugh.
“Okay, then say it.” I attempted a smile but my face screamed in pain. Clenching my eyes shut, I tried not to weep.
Fuck, that hurt.
I’d never experienced this kind of agony. Every small twitch of my body created a new kind of soreness that added to the swell of pain rising inside me. At some point, I’d just lose it and begin screaming. I wasn’t proud or a martyr, I planned to drown the pain with all the meds the nurse could give me—just as soon as I figured out how much trouble I was in.
“Someone kicked you in the genitals, at least once but probably more. The doctor says you need at least a week in the hospital to recover and make sure there isn’t any infection in that cheek.” She smiled at me. “And you need me to pamper you. My name is Laura by the way.”
“Laura, thanks for telling me.” I squeezed her warm, soft hand that still held mine. “Two more favors, please.”
“Anything, dear.” She stood and looked relieved to focus on work.
“I need a mirror and then your best pain medication. I’ve never hurt so bad.”
“Oh, let’s skip that mirror for a day or two, and go straight to the good stuff.”
Her offer tempted me but I had to know. All my life my beauty had defined me. Was it gone now? How bad was I? The uncertainty would eat at me worse than any reality.
“The mirror...please.” I held out my hand. Even that simple motion irritated my battered body.
“Okay then.” She moved over to a counter and brought me a small round mirror.
I stared at the woman in the reflection. That beaten and weary woman couldn’t be me. I didn’t even recognize the eyes staring back at me. The eyes were tiny, surrounded by swollen and bruised flesh. The left side of my face was a study in purples and green. The stitches were hard to see amidst all the swelling, but I brushed fingers across them. I gasped at the pain that shot hot through my cheek and down my neck, making every muscle tense, adding to the compounding agony. I wanted to scream, to pass out, to escape the pain and the reflection staring back at me.
I let my arm and the mirror fall to the bed. What had I done? I had no idea how I’d survive the healing process, let alone how I’d fix the mess my life had turned into. Each thought weighed me down, pushing me into a small, dark corner of my mind. I couldn’t face this.
When Laura walked in with a syringe and a smile, I was sure she was an angel. Tomorrow, I’d figure out what to do. Tomorrow.
“You relax now.” She inserted the drugs directly into my IV line. “This will help you sleep, now.”
“Thank you.” I think I said that aloud. Her hand held mine, and peace seeped into me. The medicine spread through me, obliterating the pain and pulling me down to the escape of sleep.
* * *
“Glory. Ms. Atkins.” Laura’s voice called me from sleep.
I didn’t want to wake up. I was safe here. No pain. No bruises. No mob.
“Glory, the doctor is coming, and she needs to examine you.” Laura kept talking and nudging me.
I blinked awake to see a blurry image of my angel. She saved me with the good meds. If I was awake, I probably needed more of those. Sleep. That’s what I needed.
The door opened and a petite African-American woman strode to my bedside. She was a ball of energy, moving too fast. Or maybe my brain wasn’t working right.
“How are you, Ms. Atkins?”
“Good.” I think that’s what I said. My mouth didn’t work right.
The doctor studied the tablet in her hands. “Good progress. You’re healing nicely.” She handed my angel the tablet and flashed a light in my face.
“Hey.” I protested at the bright light hitting my eye.
“The swelling is down and the contusions are progressing.”
“Contuding?” I giggled.
“You’re feeling pretty good right now?”
“Yeah, thanks to my angel.” I closed my eyes. It was too much work to keep them open.
“Reduce the meds by ten percent each two hours and check her pain level. Let’s try to get her to going-home levels.”
“Ain’t got a home.” I blew out a breath. “Not now.”
“We can call someone for you,” the doctor said. “Who should we call?”
“Call Avery.” I grinned wide. “She’s my best friend.”
“Do you have a number for her? You didn’t have any contacts in your purse.”
“In my phone.” I wanted to sink back into sleep.
“You didn’t come in with a phone.”
I wanted to help her, but it was just too much effort.
“Let’s get her up and moving today. Time for her to start recovering.”
* * *
The door opened and tennis shoes padded across the floor. I didn’t want to open my eyes, wasn’t ready for what came next, but I couldn’t stay here forever. How long had I been here? Time wasn’t normal here. In this room, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. I wanted to beg Laura to let me go under again, to escape reality but I had to face my life, or the ruins of my life, sometime.
I cracked open my eyes but it wasn’t Laura this time.
“Hi, I’m Shelly. Laura said to tell you it’s her day off. She’ll be back tomorrow.” The young nurse straightened my covers. “We got to get you moving today. The doc says you can go home tomorrow or the day after.”
Home. Where was that?
“We took the catheter out this morning, now you let me know if you need the ladies’ room. We don’t want you walking on your own just yet.”
“Got it.” My body was tender but the world-stopping pain wasn’t there, yet. “Maybe we should try that bathroom thing now.”
After Shelly helped me with that, I stood in front of the mirror. I looked more like me. No swelling anymore, just brown and green bruises. I tried a small smile and it hurt but not bad. “What day is it?” I asked the nurse standing beside me.
“Wednesday. They had you sedated for twenty-four hours to help the recovery process. Dr. Sheridan knows her business.”
“I’m hungry.” My stomach gurgled and backed me up.
“I bet. You have only had an IV since you came in.” She helped me back to bed. “I’ll go get you some broth a
nd Jell-O. You do good with that, we’ll keep the food coming.”
“Thanks.” She left me sitting up in bed.
I reached over for the phone and called our apartment. The phone rang twice, three times and I was sure it’d go to voice mail.
“Hello,” Celeste answered, a bit breathless.
“Celeste, it’s Glory.”
“Look girl, I’m gone, just packed my shit up and I’m out of here. You’re in so much trouble here. Jerry’s been asking about you. Where are you anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Word is you fucked over the big boss. Ain’t no one wanting anything to do with you. Girl, be safe, but I gotta get gone.” She hung up on me.
I stared at the dead phone and considered what to do next.
Chapter 7: Glory
I set the phone back in the cradle as Laura came into my room in jeans and a tee, carrying a hospital tray.
“Something’s wrong with this picture.” I gave her a small smile, not ready to try out a bigger one yet.
“I told Shelly I’d bring in your tray, she’s swamped today.” She set up the table over my bed and then removed the lid from the tray. “You have two kinds of Jell-O and chicken broth. Yum. Yum.”
But it did smell like heaven. I was so freaking hungry.
“Why are you here?” I asked her between Jell-O cups.
“I’m worried about you. You haven’t had a single visitor.”
“Because no one knows I’m here.” I sipped the broth and loved the warmth sliding down my throat.
“You need to call your people.” She frowned at me.
“So I kinda remember Dr. Sheridan saying my phone wasn’t with me.”
“Nope, just a purse with a wallet in it with credit cards and a driver’s license. But no phone.”
I sipped my broth, already feeling full, which was just crazy. I could eat half a pizza easy. Yet a couple cups of Jell-O and some broth filled me up? Just another mystery in my life.
“You know, it’s still real...even if you don’t tell anyone. It happened.”
I looked away from her, hating the way she figured me out so quickly. I could call my mama. She’d fly out, pamper me, and take me home. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it back to Vegas if that happened. Honestly, after what Celeste said, returning might not even be an option for me.
For a long while I considered what I knew. Laura sat beside me and didn’t say anything, but her presence made me feel safer. After several minutes ticked by, I’d come to some conclusions. One, DeLuca made porn that was likely illegal in many ways, not that I understood how. Two, they’d had no trouble beating the shit out of me. Three, if Celeste was to be believed, DeLuca didn’t know I was in the hospital. Four, Mama wasn’t equipped to handle this mess. Five, the police weren’t going to help me.
“Will you hand me the phone?” I had to make a call to the only person I could trust and who had the resources to help me.
The door opened and two people walked inside the room. They both wore coats and ties, which meant cops. I’d already decided I couldn’t tell them anything.
“Hello, Glory Atkins?” the tall one asked me.
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m her friend Laura.”
I gave her a quick smile and reached for her hand. “Will you stay?”
“Of course.” She smiled at me.
“We really need to speak with just you,” the shorter detective said. “I’m Detective Sanders and this is Detective Jones.”
“Well, you can come back when I’m stronger, or we can talk with my friend here.” I kept my voice frail. Even though I’d like to send them packing, it was better to be done with this.
Detective Jones stepped next to the bed. “Of course, it’s fine to have your friend here. You’ve been through a bad time. Tell us what happened.”
I glanced at Laura. She did give me courage.
“I work as a dancer at the Remington. My boss—”
“His name?” Detective Jones interrupted.
“Jerry Mancini. He asked me to serve as a hostess for one of our private parties. I entered the private floor and I remember walking down the hallway toward Suite 700, and then nothing.”
“What floor?” Jones asked.
“Seventh floor. You need a special card to access that floor.”
“And then?” Detective Sanders prompted.
“And I woke up here with a broken cheek, broken ribs and the shit beat out of me.”
“You don’t remember anything else?” Detective Jones frowned at me.
“Nothing, at all. Go ask Jerry. Don’t those casinos have cameras everywhere? That’s what he always told me.” I bit my lip and let tears flow free. “I have no idea what happened, or why I ended up here.”
The two detectives shuffled their feet and gave each other the look. No man liked dealing with tears. “Thank you, Ms. Atkins. We’ll do that, but we may have more questions for you.”
“I’ll be here or at home.” I wiped at the tears.
“Okay then. We’ll be in touch.” Detective Sanders dropped a card on my table and they left.
Once they left, Laura narrowed her gaze on me. “Did you just play those cops?”
“Obviously.” I gave her a smile and it only hurt a little. “They can’t help me.”
“Not if you work at the Remington.” She gave me a sad shake of her head. “Here’s the phone. You’re going to need a friend.”
I punched in Avery’s number—one of the few I had memorized. A recorded voice told me I couldn’t make a long distance call. Now what did I do?
“My call, it didn’t go through.” I bit my lip and that smarted. “How do I call Oklahoma?”
Laura dug in her purse and pulled out a cell phone. “Use my phone—otherwise you gotta set up a collect call account—it’s a pain in the ass.”
This woman I’d only met a couple days ago just kept helping me, and this wasn’t even her job. “You really are my angel.”
She snorted. “Not even, you just needed a friend. And I have a soft spot for tough girls.”
“Because you’re one?” I asked even though it didn’t sound a bit like her.
“No.” She gave me a sad smile. “But my older sister was and I wish someone had helped her when she needed it. But no one helped, and she didn’t make it out of one of those tough situations.” She gave me a forced smile. “So I help everyone—you never know when it’ll make the difference.”
“You’re too sweet, and your sister is proud of you.” I squeezed her hand this time.
“I hope so.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “These aren’t crocodile tears, either.” She grinned at me. “That crying on demand must’ve gotten you out of all kinds of trouble.”
I laughed and it was worth the quick burst of pain in my chest. “How’d you figure that out?”
“If you didn’t cry when you looked in that mirror, then you ain’t crying because of some detective poking around.” She pointed to the phone. “Call your friend. I’ll step outside and see how Shelly is doing.”
I dialed the number. Avery picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Avi, how are tricks?” I used my normal greeting even if this wasn’t normal in any way.
“Hey you, you missed our Sunday call. Did you get a new phone?” Avery’s bubbly voice greeted me and something inside me cracked open. I couldn’t hold back the sob.
“Glory what’s wrong?” Avery’s high-pitched cry hurt my ears.
“I’m in the hospital.” I spoke between the sobs. Why did I have to pick now to fall apart? “I need help.”
“You know I got you, always.” The certainty in her voice comforted me. “Rock, find me a flight to Vegas, now.” Avery spoke fast to her man. Their quick exchange left me listening to snippets of conversation.
“Glory, tell me the details.” Rock’s deep voice replaced Avery’s. The man got his name for a reason, nothing ruffled him.
“I was at work, and they started hassling me. I’d started working at a new place. They sent me up to a party—they were making porn—and I wasn’t given a choice.” I started crying again but forced myself to stop. Hysterics wouldn’t help anything. “They were going to shoot me up with something, so I was out of choices. I kicked the guy in the balls and ran for it, but I didn’t make it.”
“What happened? How hurt are you?” Avery spoke fast into the phone.
So they were both there.
“They broke my cheek, some ribs, and I’m bruised head to toe. But worse, it’s the DeLuca family—the mob.”
“Rock, we need to fly out there!” Avery shouted into the phone.
“Fuck!” Rock swore. “You’re family. And we’ll keep you safe.”
Relief flooded through me and I realized how tense I’d been. Deep down, I had known when I called home, this would be the response. I should’ve called as soon as I woke up. But better late than never, I guess.
“Here’s Avery, while I get someone headed your way.”
“We’re heading that way, Rock,” Avery said. “Glory, I’m so sorry, tell me everything.”
The whole sad story tumbled out of me along with the tears.
“Oh stop crying, you never cry.” Avery blubbered along with me on the other end of the phone. “You should’ve called me when that bastard Frankie started bothering you. Once you’re healed, I’m going to kick your ass all over again for holding out on me.”
“So tough now that you’re a biker bitch.” I laughed through the tears running down my cheeks.
“I’ve always been scrappy. Now I’m just more dangerous.”
And she was more dangerous since she’d learned how to use a whip and other tools to give her man the pain he craved. I didn’t understand that level of kinky and would have run the other way if I’d been confronted with that kind of need. But Avery had always been braver than me.
Get Away Page 6