by Amanda Perry
“The last of the ambulances left. I don’t want to wait on another one to show up to get her checked. Let’s use our truck and transport her.” Maverick, Allistar, and Marak move without another word spoken. The four of us work like a well-oiled machine, always one step ahead of the other.
While the guys roundup our transportation, I go about securing the girl as best I can. She’s older than the other girls we found. Her auburn hair covers her face in a tangled, dirty mess. Bruises and cuts cover her body, and sickness settles in the pit of my stomach when I think of what she must have been through.
She doesn’t appear to have any major injuries, but with my medical training, I know better than to jostle her too much. Without a gurney and with painful slowness, I pick her up myself. I take each step as if walking barefoot on glass. If she has a spinal injury, one wrong move could paralyze this girl, or worse.
Marak waits for me, holding the front door open. Maverick sits in the driver’s seat of the truck with the engine going. Allistar stands with the back door to the truck open. The three of them remain quiet and patient, no sign of agitation or jitters. They all know how important going slow and steady can be. Ironically, I’m the one who hates to wait for anything, except in this type of situation.
It probably only takes minutes, but it feels like hours pass before I reach the truck and deposit the girl in the back seat. Marak hops into the passenger seat while Allistar slides into the back, careful not to touch the girl. I squeeze myself into the back, doing my best to keep her still. The second my door shuts, Maverick takes off like a bat out of hell.
The back seat is cramped with the girl spread out. Allistar and I do our best to refrain from touching her. Still, I’m able to wiggle out of my jacket and cover her with it, giving her some modesty. The moment my jacket touches the girl she sucks in a harsh breath, scaring the absolute fuck out of Allistar and me.
I quickly regain my composure and remember my medical training. “Miss, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me?”
Her eyes flutter a few times before finally cracking open a fraction. She absorbs her surroundings, though it’s clear she’s still out of it by the way her pupils dilate and her eyelids struggle to stay up. Her gaze lands in my direction with a squint as if attempting to focus. Hard determination crosses her features mere seconds before she juts out her knee, nailing me directly in the family jewels. The air rushes from my lungs, and I cup myself in a feeble attempt to ease the searing pain.
The girl screams at the top of her lungs while wiggling and squirming away from me, only to bump into Allistar. She obviously doesn’t have her wits about her fully because she can’t pull herself to a seated position. The pitch she manages to hit with her scream makes my ears ring, though. “Let me go! I’m not a goddamn toy! Let me out of here!”
Her words slur and make little sense, but I can’t suck in enough air to help her calm down. Luckily Allistar takes over, putting his hands gently on her shoulders to keep her from thrashing around. If she has any internal injuries, the movement could be fatal. “Hey, we aren’t going to hurt you. We want to help you. Just calm down, please.”
Allistar easily coaxes the girl back down again. His quiet voice eases her panic somewhat. She shakes her head slowly from side to side, tears slipping from her half-closed eyes. “Where’s Jenna? Let us go . . .. I want to go home. Just let me go home.”
“We’re taking you to the hospital. You can call your family from there. You’ll get home soon, I promise. Just relax,” Allister assures her, but she slips into unconsciousness before there’s time for his promise to register.
“What the hell was that?” Maverick shouts from the front seat, obviously not happy about his lack of power over the situation in the back seat. The man needs to work on his control freak tendencies. He’s been a commanding fuck since high school. Normally, it isn’t a big deal, but sometimes, he needs to take a few breaths and calm the hell down. He can’t regulate and dominate everything.
Allistar plops back into his seat and runs a hand down his face. His eyes dart to mine, and he takes in my pathetic state. My right knee rests awkwardly on the floorboard while I hold my sore junk and take short, painful breaths. I know what’s coming before it even happens.
My eyes narrow into slits as Allistar bursts into laughter. “She kneed him in the balls. Holy shit, that was hilarious. He didn’t even see it coming! That was a good one, too. She wasn’t even fully with it, and she managed a direct hit.”
Marak snorts, and Maverick coughs, though it sounds suspiciously like a laugh being covered up. “Fuck you all. That shit hurt. I had no prep time. She just lashed out! Who the hell does that?”
“Someone who was kidnapped and beaten, and God knows what else,” Maverick replies as we pull up to the ambulance bay at the hospital. It sobers us all up. We divert back to business as Maverick and Allistar hurry inside to find some help. Marak opens my door, and we help the EMT’s transfer the girl when they race up to the truck with a gurney.
They rush off with her, but not before Maverick calls out to them, “I want an update when she’s stable.”
It’s not a request. Maverick now considers this case personal since he thinks he’s the reason we missed her. He doesn’t have to tell us what he’s thinking. We’ve all been friends long enough to know his thought process. In his mind, he should have thought to look behind the only couch in the entire building. If she doesn’t survive, he’ll never forgive himself.
Marak, Allistar, and I share a long sideways glance with each other. The three of us need to talk to Maverick. He’s no more responsible for missing the girl than the rest of us. We have to be sure he understands our logic and doesn’t do anything crazy, like name himself her new protector or some shit.
“Hey, Mav, let’s grab our bags and find a place to change. Then we can get an update from the Harper-Smith’s. I’m sure it’ll be a bit before they update us on that girl, but we can find out about the rest of them.” Allistar places a hand on Maverick’s shoulder. He’s always making sure the three of us take care of ourselves.
Maverick remains silent, staring ahead at the ambulance bay for a long time. We wait for him. We know he’s sorting out his thoughts, and while he heard Allistar, he won’t respond until he’s ready. Marak and Allistar don’t mind Maverick’s silent, deep thinking process, but it kills me to wait. If I had my way, I’d take him by the shoulders and shake him, telling him to knock his shit off and listen to us. I don’t, though. He hit me in the jaw the one time I did that— fond high school memories.
“Okay.” Maverick finally nods, though I think it’s more to himself and whatever plan he just came up with in his mind. “Let’s get changed and updated. Then, we can check on the girl.”
“I wish we could have asked for her name before she passed out again.” Allistar frowns deeply as we all head back to the truck to park it and grab our bags.
With a dismissive shrug, I pull the back door open and reach for the duffle under the seat. “We can ask her when she wakes up. No big deal.” I force myself to remain positive about the situation with her and the rest of the girls.
“If she wakes up.” Maverick’s tone is hushed, but we all hear him.
All the girls we found were in bad shape, some worse than others. This girl wasn’t the only one unconscious, and a few were barely hanging on. The only thing to do now is wait and hope.
4
Taylor
My head throbs like someone threw a few hundred bricks at it, and my body aches from top to bottom. Consciousness slowly creeps in, and I wish it would stop—being asleep hurts less. Unless this is what death feels like, but I don’t remember dying. Memories of why I hurt invade my mind, and I remember Jenna. If I only had to worry about me, I might be tempted to go back to sleep, but I need to wake up for Jenna.
Blinking my eyes open, I hesitate when my vision doesn’t clear right away. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with me. The last thing I remember was fighting wi
th Track and Lopez as they tried to take me away. I remember being told someone was on their way to pick me up. I remember the douche bags drugging me, again. I remember forcing Jenna to run and hoping like hell she would find help, and then I guess I blacked out. I started to come around at some point, and I was moving. Whoever came for me, clearly found me. I did my best to fight them off but couldn’t gain enough strength. Whatever they used to drug me dragged me under again. It was stronger this time than the stuff they first used.
The realization that I’m no longer moving hits me, and I sit up, swaying heavily in my drug-induced, foggy haze. Squinting my eyes, I scan the room in hopes to find anything familiar. My vision still won’t focus enough for me to figure out where I am, though. The stark white walls come into focus for a second, only to blur again. A faux leather chair in the corner tilts and turns, while my eyes desperately search for focus. A machine beeps next to me, but I can’t make out the words on the screen. Panic rises in my chest when I reach up to brush my hair from my face and something tugs lightly on my arm. These crazy bastards are injecting drugs into me to keep me sedated. Maybe they decided to experiment on me or some other crazy crap. I wouldn’t put it past the sick freaks.
My vision comes back to me enough, and I can make out two doors in the room. After a deep breath, I pull the IV out. Blood runs down my arm and drips from my hand, but I ignore it and toss the blanket off my body. Shuffling for the first door, I find a small bathroom and curse myself for wasting time. My hand rests on the wall for support while I push myself to the next door and test the handle. The handle turns easily, and I send a silent thank you up to anyone that may be listening. The second it’s open, I take off.
“Hey, what are you doing?” An unfamiliar deep voice sounds to my left, and my stomach drops. It figures they appointed someone to guard their property.
Without a response, I use my hands on the wall and push myself to get away from the psycho guard dog. Arms wrap around my waist with surprising gentleness. It’s useless, but I still fight with every bit of strength in me. I scream, kick, and scratch the person holding me as he drags me back toward the room I vacated. The screams come out muted, the kicks hold no strength behind them, and it’s anyone’s guess if I get any good scratches in. The lack of success doesn’t stop me. He says something, though his words don’t penetrate my frantic mind.
The sound of footsteps rushing toward me increases my panic. Others are coming, and my slim chance of escape just became nonexistent. Tears spring from my eyes. After weeks of doing everything in my power to escape this hell, I now have no hope of getting out.
“What happened?” A loud, demanding shout comes from behind me and the man holding me.
A gasp comes from a different male, “Holy shit, why’s she bleeding?”
“Excuse me, gentlemen. Set her down on the bed and allow me to check her over please.” This time it’s a female voice. Hope lights within me again, only for me to instantly stamp it down. Maybe she’ll help me get out of here, but it’s likely she’s working with them.
I’m set down on a soft mattress and instantly lash out at the man who held me. I manage to elbow him hard in his twig and giggle-berries, and he drops to one knee on the floor.
Before I can get off the bed, the woman in the room steps forward. “Hey, I’m Doctor Lenny. We’re here to help you, miss. We won’t hurt you. Please, calm down so we don’t have to sedate you. From your labs, it’s clear you’ve been sedated enough recently.”
I freeze, not understanding her at first. With my vision finally clear, I’m able to scrutinize her. She has her black, curly hair pulled up into a smooth ponytail that frizzes in the back. The stark white doctor coat she wears is a complete contrast to her dark chocolate-colored skin. Her dark eyes appear gentle and patient, waiting for me to make a judgment about her. My eyes jump from her, searching the strange room. This time, I’m able to make out more details of the room. I could believe I’m in a hospital room, but I’m not ready to accept that yet. There are plenty of ways to make a room look like one thing when in reality, it’s something completely different. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if I was in some basement of a house in the middle of nowhere.
After giving the room a quick once-over, my gaze lands on the two strange men who whisper quietly in the corner. My body tenses without permission as I look the two of them over. The first one obviously spends a lot of time at the gym and the tattoo parlor. Tattoos cover his insanely muscular arms, and I idly wonder if he’d rip his shirt by flexing. His buzzed head turns in my direction, and I freeze. His buddy places a hand on muscle man’s arm, grabbing his attention once more and mine as well.
The second man must have been the one who stopped me. He holds a cloth on his arm, and I find myself wondering if I hurt him. I can’t stop my eyes from wandering over him. His medium-brown hair falls to his chin with a slight wave. The top half of it is pulled up, away from his creamy beige face, and a short, neatly trimmed, dark beard covers his jaw. My gaze rakes over his defined chest, covered by a tight blue shirt, down to his lean, jean-clad hips, landing on a pair of black combat boots, then travel back up and meets his hazel green stare. Heat rushes to my cheeks at the intensity of his stare.
“Can you tell me your name, miss?” the female, supposed doctor, speaks up, and I manage to break eye contact with the stranger.
Before I can answer her, the door swings open, and two more men rush into the room. They stop abruptly, falling over each other when they notice me sitting on the bed. The first one in the door, a younger, athletic guy with mocha skin and honey eyes, catches himself before falling to the ground. He spins and glares at the second guy. He’s older—though they all appear to be in their late twenties or early thirties—closer to the age of the two men already in the room. A light stubble covers his nicely chiseled jaw, and a gray beanie hides his hair. He’s a few inches shorter than the two giants in the room, and his build is slender, though I have no doubt he would win a fight against most people, especially me.
His icy gray eyes land on me after he mumbles a half-assed apology to the younger guy he nearly ran over. “You’re awake.”
Ignoring him, I narrow my gaze at the doctor. “I don’t believe you. These men wouldn’t be here if you were trying to help me.”
“Okay, that’s probably our cue to get lost,” the younger, honey-eyed guy speaks up, motioning for the men to leave.
Tattoo man heads for the door without a backward glance, but his friend doesn’t budge. “I’ll stay behind.”
“Marak, you coming or going?” the tattooed guy asks the one wearing a beanie, standing in the doorway.
His gaze shoots to me again, then back. “I’ll stay. Thanks, Lochlan, thanks, Talen. You both should get back to your family.”
Two of them leave without another word as the guy with the beanie, Marak, goes to stand beside the one with the long hair.
The long-haired one leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms, ditching the cloth he’d been pressing against the scratches I made. “Tell us your name, please.”
He doesn’t phrase it as a question, and I find myself wishing I could hit him in the balls again. “No.”
To my surprise, he doesn’t get angry, though he clearly isn’t pleased with my response. He simply tightens his lips and nods once. “Alright. I’m Maverick, and this is Marak. We’re here because we wanted to make sure you’re all right. We took you out of that warehouse and brought you to this hospital.”
“I’m going to need to fix your IV site and insert another one, dear. You’re rather dehydrated.” The doctor makes a move toward me, and I scoot away.
“Don’t touch me.” My warning rings clear. I don’t want to be touched right now, not by her or anyone.
While the doctor backs up a step, the two men come toward me a step. The one with the beanie, Marak, speaks up this time, “Listen, Red, you’re bleeding all over the place. If Allistar comes in here, he’ll likely pass out. The man is a sissy when
it comes to blood. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like picking his pansy ass up off the floor. So, what’s it going to take for you to trust the doc enough to fix you up?”
My response needs no forethought. “Let me go.”
Marak snorts and shakes his head. “I would, really. Except you’re in a hospital. You can’t just waltz out of a hospital without a doctor saying it’s okay. Plus, what are you going to do? Hitchhike in your lovely green hospital gown, showing your backside to the whole world?”
My eyes divert to the gown covering my body. I hadn’t realized earlier I’d been dressed in a hospital gown. The last I remember, I was in my undies and my bra.
Marak continues rambling on, a slight smile lifting his lips as he speaks. “We already had a pretty exciting day with the whole raid and rescue stuff. Don’t make us go rescuing you again. Just because we’re SWAT doesn’t mean we like so much excitement. We’re boring people honestly.”
“Oh my god, stop talking!” I raise my hand, palm out, hoping he quits his crazy rant. Turning my attention to the long-haired one, Maverick, I huff loudly, “Is he always like that?”
Maverick nods only once. “Yeah, generally.”
“Will you please let the doctor fix you?” Marak pouts, and I get the urge to grin at him but hold it back.
Instead, I shake my head. “If you’re all for real, let me use a phone, and I’ll let the doctor do her thing.”
Maverick doesn’t hesitate. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a cell phone. He hands it directly to me and takes a step away. Before I can even dial, Dr. Lenny takes my arm and begins patching me up. I quickly go about dialing the first number that comes to mind. It rings twice before a thick southern accent answers on the other line, and I burst into tears at the sound of his voice.