Cherished (Club Indigo Book 4)

by Karen Nappa

  "That's a good way to look at it," Dr. Phillips agreed. "Do you have any other questions?"

  "No. Thank you for calling, Doctor."

  "You're welcome. Call if we can do anything for you."

  "I will." She ended the call and sat. What should she do? She loved Snuggles. He'd brought comfort to her life from the moment she'd met him. She didn't want to lose him, but she didn't want him to suffer, either. What kind of quality of life did he have now, and would the vet's suggestions improve things enough to be worth the trouble for Snuggles? She wished there was someone she could talk to about it, but she couldn't think of anyone besides Derek, and they were 'broken up'. After an evening of mental struggle, Sonja finally took Snuggles to bed, her mind made up and her heart heavy.

  Tuesday afternoon, Sonja threw her keys on the small table beside her coat rack when she got home. How she had driven without causing an accident was beyond her, with the way tears had been blocking her view. Mentally, Sonja knew her decision had been the right one, but emotionally, she was plagued by what-ifs. Coming back to her empty apartment was heartbreaking. Reality slammed into her when she wasn't greeted by big yellow-green eyes and a sleek black body. She sank to the floor without bothering to close the front door or take off her coat and gave in to her grief. Sonja cried until all she had were dry sobs. She tried to get up but couldn't muster the strength. Why should I get up anyway? Nobody needs me.

  Still on the floor, her sobs subsiding, Sonja dug her phone out of her coat pocket. The loneliness was oppressive, and she needed to talk. She took a couple gulps of air to control her breathing and quell the tears. She opened her contacts and scrolled to the one person she wanted and needed now. She didn't care that they weren't together.

  Sonja waited for the call to connect, relieved it didn't go to voicemail. "Derek?" she said sorrowfully, her voice hoarse from crying.

  "Hello, baby girl. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Derek sounded upset, too.

  "Yes. No." She pulled herself together with her last bit of strength. "I've just come from the vet." Sonja gulped against renewed tears. I've cried enough already! "I had to say goodbye to Snuggles. His kidneys were failing and there was nothing they could do. He's gone, Derek. My little sweetheart is gone." Sonja lost the fight against her tears and they ran freely over her cheeks.

  "Oh, precious," Derek said and then asked, "would you like some company?"

  Sonja's heart soared and she whispered, "Yes, please!"

  "On my way." Derek didn't waste another word and she could hear him moving before he disconnected the call. Fuck, I love that man!

  Sonja disconnected the call. She pressed the phone against her chest. She was going to see Derek again and feel her Daddy's arms around her. He couldn't bring back Snuggles, but his presence would ease her pain and loneliness. Sonja struggled to her feet and decided to leave the door open for Derek. He would be here any moment and it would save her an awkward moment at the front door. Meanwhile, she would put on the kettle for tea.

  While the water was heating, there was a sound in the hallway—faster than she expected him. Sonja ducked into the freezer to get eclairs out to serve with the tea and yelled, "I'm in the kitchen!" She turned off the kettle and reached for two mugs in the cupboard. A movement behind her made her turn, ready to fling herself into Daddy's arms, only to be halted by the sight of—Angie.

  For mere seconds, both women stared at each other—Sonja with shock and horror on her face, Angie's features distorted by rage and deep hatred.

  "As long as you live, my Daddy won't come back to me. You've bewitched him, you filthy homewrecker," the crazed woman screamed as she threw herself at Sonja with her hands poised to scratch her.

  Sonja had dealt with rude customers on occasion, but she wasn't used to this kind of venom. She moved back and away from Angie, who was screaming profanities. This woman is insane. I can't believe I left my door open!

  "Angie, calm down. Derek and I split up days ago," Sonja tried to placate the other woman. Angie's eyes were wide open, and she was close enough for Sonja to see specks of spit on her pink painted lips.

  "I heard you call him, you whore. He doesn't want to be with you, but you keep tempting him with your trashy ways and sweet-talking bullshit. I heard you cry. Daddy can't handle tears. He wants to make everything okay and erase sorrow and grief. You figured out you can control him with tears. But I won't let you." After her tirade, Angie dashed forward, and Sonja took another step backward, bumping into the kitchen counter. The same moment Sonja realized she was stuck in a corner with no means to escape, Angie's eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

  "Angie, let's talk about this," Sonja tried again.

  Angie ignored her plea, but instead of attacking Sonja again, she turned her attention to the side. Sonja didn't hesitate and she tried to run for cover.

  "Oh no, you don't."

  Something sliced over her back, and pain seared through her. Sonja turned to defend herself.

  "I'm going to cut you to pieces, you filthy cunt." Angie's voice sounded ominous, but what froze Sonja's blood was the large chef's knife Angie now held in her hand.

  Angie launched herself in another wild attack, going for Sonja's face. Sonja raised her arms and made a grab for Angie's wrist but got the knife blade instead. Although it hurt, it kept Angie from stabbing her in the face.

  "I wonder if Daddy will like you so much when I carve up that pretty face of yours. I'm going to cut off those big fat lips you use to suck my Daddy's dick," Angie ranted.

  They continued to wrestle for control of the knife. Sonja used her left hand to try to control Angie's wrist so she could let go of the blade, but Angie fought back. Despite Angie being much smaller and lighter, she wasn't an easy opponent and Sonja feared she wouldn't have the strength to hold her any longer. Sonja could see the blood running down her wrist and wondered how much damage the knife was causing. With a burst of strength, Angie wrested the knife free from Sonja's hand and raised it high. Sonja was defenseless, cornered, and injured. She had no means of escape and braced herself against the pain that would come.

  A mighty roar halted Angie in her tracks, and Sonja looked on in stunned amazement as Angie's face lit up when Derek came barreling into the kitchen. "Don't you hate her, too, Daddy?" Angie said in a sugary sweet voice, before turning her attention back to Sonja with furrowed brows. "Let's kill her," Angie shrieked and again thrust the blade at Sonja.

  "No!" Derek roared and threw himself between the two women. Sonja watch in horror as the knife went into his side. Angie let go of her hold and stepped away from him.

  None of them moved as they looked down at the handle protruding from Derek's leather jacket before Angie remarked in a steady and reasonable tone, "Now look what you made me do." Then she dashed out of the kitchen and ran from the apartment.

  Sonja didn't waste time on the nut job but was at Derek's side immediately. "Don't touch the knife!" she said in a sharp tone as his hand went to his wound.

  "Relax, baby girl. I don't think she hit me."

  "Um, Derek? There is a knife buried to the hilt in you!" Sonja attempted to pull her phone from her pocket and grimaced when she tried to move the fingers of her injured hand.

  "Baby, you're more hurt than I am! Sit down!" Derek ordered as he reached for his cellphone in his back pocket. Sonja listened as Derek calmly called 911 and explained their situation and whereabouts.

  "Could you please contact Det. Sgt. Paula Stone for me? She's handling the case." A pause as he listened to the emergency dispatcher. "Yes, ma'am, multiple knife wounds. No, the attacker is gone." Another pause. "Thank you, ma'am." He disconnected the call and addressed Sonja. "The paramedics should be here in less than fifteen minutes."

  Sonja started to shake as the realization of what happened sank in. Although he didn't seem bothered by his injury, she was worried sick about Derek. She hoped it was just a flesh wound and nothing life-threatening. Her injuries appeared minor, although she was worried about her hand. Stran
gely, the shallow slice on her back hurt more than the deep ones in her forearms, and her injured hand throbbed more than anything else. Derek's hand again went for the knife and she growled at him, "Don't touch it."

  Derek shook his head and chuckled at her. She shot him the fierce look she reserved for slacking busboys and gum chewing waitresses.

  Derek put both his hands in the air as if she'd trained a gun on him and said with humor in his voice, "All right, baby girl, I won't touch it, but let me get some clean towels so we can put pressure on your wounds."

  "Oh no, you won't. You're not going to move around with a knife in your gut. I'm not having it. We're going to wait for the paramedics. I won't bleed out in ten minutes."

  The ten minutes proved to be exaggerated, because before Derek could react to her statement, they heard voices from the entrance.

  "In here," Derek called, and the next moment, her kitchen was filled with two efficient EMTs, one with a grey mustache and a tanned and creased face, the other much younger with black skin and a shaved head.

  Mustache attended to Derek as the younger one assessed her wounds. To Sonja's relief and amazement, Derek had been right about his injury. The knife had penetrated his leather jacket but caught in his woolen sweater. The tip of the blade had grazed his side and left an angry red scratch, but it wasn't deep enough to need even a bandage. Sonja's cuts were deeper, and after applying bandages, the African-American paramedic declared she needed to go to the hospital to get her hand X-rayed and the deeper slices stitched up.

  Sonja opened her mouth to argue against them taking her in the ambulance as Paula Stone and Det. Christopher burst into Sonja's kitchen. Damn, the room is getting crowded.

  The younger paramedic scowled as their departure was further delayed, but he acceded to Paula's authority.

  Paula took charge right away and, with practiced efficiency, glanced around the kitchen and asked, "Angie?" At Derek's affirmative, she put out an APB on Angie and then turned to his baby girl. "Sonja, you remember Det. Bill Christopher?"

  Sonja nodded and held up her bandaged arms in an apologetic gesture. "Sorry, I can't shake hands, Det. Christopher."

  "Call me Bill." The tall man smiled kindly. "I wish we could see each other on happier occasions." Derek felt a pang of jealousy. From the way that the other man looked at Sonja, the police detective was quite taken with her. Even with her tear-streaked face and bloodstained bandages, she was beautiful. Why on earth had he broken up with her? It hadn't saved her from Angie. Derek shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to his baby girl if he hadn't shown up.

  A throaty sound and a raised eyebrow from Paula pulled him back to the here and now.

  "Sorry, what did you ask me?"

  Paula gave him a small smile. "I suggested that we take your statement and let the ambulance take Sonja to the hospital." She trained her attention on the medical professionals, who were hovering over Sonja, anxious to get her out. "To which hospital are you taking her?"

  "Truman," was the clipped reply.

  Derek kissed Sonja on the top of her head before letting the EMTs put her on a gurney. He kept an eagle eye on them to make sure they were careful of her arms and hands. "I'll be with you as soon as possible, baby girl."

  Sonja nodded, and his heart stuttered at the scared and pain-filled look in her eyes.

  Paula's phone chirped and she answered with competent professionalism. Derek unashamedly listened to the one-sided conversation as it became clear it was about Angie.

  Paula disconnected her call and smiled at them. "Patrol found Angie two blocks from here. They have her in custody."

  Derek pressed his head against Sonja's chest for a beat, not sure if the connection was for her or himself. The oldest of the paramedics coughed and Derek reluctantly let go. He watched her leave and turned to Paula and Bill to relate what he knew.

  He ended his statement with, "I don't know how Angie got in or how long she was inside before I came, but I'm sure she would have killed Sonja if I hadn't shown up when I did." Derek shuddered as he—once again—realized how badly things could have gone.

  "Okay, adding attempted murder, vandalism, the restraining order against her, her previous psychiatric hold and the documentation of your complaints in St. Louis, I have no doubt Angie is going to jail this time," Bill said as he put his pen and notebook back in his pocket.

  Derek nodded and looked down at the drops of blood on the floor. His baby girl's blood! He didn't wish Angie ill, but by God, he would see she never came near Sonja again.

  Paula followed his gaze to the spatters on the floor and grinned at Derek. "I didn't realize you two were into knife play."

  Derek scowled and growled, "That's an awful joke, Paula."

  She held his gaze and lifted an eyebrow, and then he laughed. He was relieved they could at least joke about it. Sonja's wounds would heal and so would his side, and with Angie behind bars, he could move on with his relationship with Sonja.

  Derek was approaching the main desk at the hospital to ask about Sonja when a familiar figure came to a stop beside him. "Derek?"

  "Oh, hi, Molly." He almost hadn't recognized her in her scrubs.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Looking for Sonja. I think she's here." Derek checked his watch. "She was brought in by ambulance about forty minutes ago."

  "What happened?" Molly asked.

  Derek gave her a quick run-down on the events at Sonja's apartment and again started for the desk.

  Molly stopped him. "If it was less than an hour ago, she's still in Emergency. They won't know anything here. I'll walk you over, and we can find out what her status is."

  They started down the hall and had to wait for a gurney pushed by a joking young man in scrubs. Molly shook her head with a grin as she watched his antics. "Dr. Gerald is a big believer in the healing quality of laughter. Our own Patch Adams," Molly said as she picked up the pace again.

  "That kid is a doctor?"

  "That 'kid'," Derek could hear the air quotes in Molly's intonation of the word, "is twenty-seven, he's in his last year of residency, and he's great with the patients."

  The receptionist in the Emergency Department had a sour expression that brightened as Molly turned her attention on him. He reacted to Molly's orders quickly and pulled up the information from the computer.

  "All right," Molly said after thanking the receptionist, "I'm afraid you'll have to wait. They're still working on her. I told them you were her fiancé, so they'll let you back when they're done stitching her up. I hope that's all she needs. Hand lacerations can cause nasty problems."

  Derek followed Molly toward the waiting area, glancing back at the young man. "If that boy had a tail, he'd wag it."

  "Huh?" Molly sent him an incredulous look.

  "The receptionist. He's totally infatuated with you."

  Molly shrugged. "My hormones don't swing that way."

  Derek smiled. "I've noticed you with Erin a couple of times. Anything serious going on between the two of you?"

  "Could be," Molly said. "We're both taking it slow. As far as kink goes, we're a pretty good match, and she's intelligent and has a great sense of humor." Molly indicated the large seating area. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave you here. I was due back in ICU five minutes ago."

  "That's okay. Thanks for getting me to the right place and getting me access." Derek settled down in a padded plastic chair that had clearly seen better days. What was it with hospital waiting rooms? Unless the place was brand-new, all the furniture looked like multiple people had thrown up on it. In the ER, he supposed it was possible it had been. The ubiquitous television was tuned to a sports channel where there was a spirited discussion of the pro basketball season with ridiculously early predictions on which teams would make the playoffs. The silliness of the commentators was enough to occupy the front of his mind at least.

  Two hours later, the basketball commentary had been replaced by a college game between two schools he'd never h
eard of. He was saved from trying to care about the outcome by the appearance of an official-looking young man holding a clipboard. "Mr. K-Kirk-Kirk…"

  "Kiriakis?" Derek said hopefully. He'd not heard anyone stumble so much over his name since elementary school, when his first-grade teacher had called him 'Derek K'.

  "Yes, sir. If you would come with me, please?"

  Derek followed him through double doors into an area of endless curtains that he realized were concealing patients. He heard the sounds of monitors beeping and low voices coming from behind some of the draperies. At the fourth set, the young man came to an abrupt stop and said, "Knock, knock."

  After hearing, "Come in," from an unknown female voice, the young man pulled open the edge of the curtain to reveal Sonja lying in bed and a woman with a stethoscope listening to her heart. Derek waited to speak until the woman finished. She settled the covers over Sonja. "Hi, I'm Dr. Walters. I've been taking care of Sonja."

  "Derek Kiriakis." He held out his hand, and they shook briefly. "How is she, Dr. Walters?"

  "Very lucky, would be my best assessment," Dr. Walters replied. "She's got multiple lacerations, but only three required stitches, the one on her back and two on her hand, for a total of eighteen. No nerve or tendon damage. All the other lacerations are minor. Are you going home with her?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. She's going to need help for the next couple of weeks. The dressings need to stay dry and should be changed daily. I'm also giving her some exercises to do with her hand to keep scar tissue from developing."

  "Anything else we need to know?" Derek asked.

  "It will all be in the discharge summary they'll give you at the desk. I'll get things taken care of, and everything will be waiting when you get there." Dr. Walters walked out to take care of her next patient.

  Sonja immediately pulled the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.