by Jenny Hayut
I’m near the end of my shift, sorting out the files for the day. It’s been a difficult day for me, trying to maintain some kind of normalcy after the short-lived conversation I had with Doc last night. I can’t get his voice out of my head. It sounded like he was under strain. Clearly, he was worried, and in a hurry, judging by how quickly he ended our call. I desperately want to help him, but I don’t know how, because I still don’t know what’s going on.
When I woke up this morning, I attacked Holt with questions, but he skirted all of them. He promised me we would talk tonight. He’d tell me what he knew. Which he swore wasn’t much.
So I’m anxious to get home, not only to get answers, but to give him what I longed for last night. We’re winding down to just under thirty minutes before closing, and it looks like we might get out on time, unless an emergency comes in.
I grab my phone to text Holt that I’ll be home on time. When I have night shift and Holt’s working, I make arrangements to get a ride with whoever has shift with me, lying, telling them my car’s in the shop.
I have no intention of ever letting anyone know what’s going on with Doc C. I won’t disgrace his good name within the community. He is a good man, of that I’m sure. It doesn’t matter to me that a man like this Vinnie Calhoun is after him. Whatever he did, even if it was illegal, I know in my heart it was done with good reason and maybe out of desperation.
I get an immediate response from Holt, telling me, as I’d hoped, that he’s already headed home and will come pick me up instead. I throw my phone back in my purse just as I hear the commotion. A patient.
I reach for my phone to call Holt back and tell him not to come, but I stop before dialing his number. Something isn’t right. Jason’s voice is raised, and I hear what sounds like a scuffle and then silence. What the hell?
I walk out of my office, heading to the front, where I thought I heard the voices. Eerily, as I approach, no one is in sight. I call out for Jason, then Beth.
Nothing.
Maybe Jason took it outside? Maybe it was some drunk, and he found a way to get him out of the hospital. I’m walking through the lobby, peering through the hospital’s glass front to see if Jason is outside, when I trip on something.
I look down...and scream. Jason is lying on the floor at my feet, in a pool of blood.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
“Jason, oh my God.” I drop to the floor and kneel over him, trying to wake him then trying to see where the blood is coming from. Is it his blood? Is he dead? Has he been shot? Is he still alive? Oh my God. I need to call the police.
There’s a sudden pain at the back of my head.
Then nothing.
Black.
****
“Wake up, sweetheart.” The voice is faint.
A push to my shoulder. “Wake up, baby girl.”
I slowly open my eyes, squinting against the sporadic bursts of light. My hand automatically goes to cradle the back of my head. The pain is so intense, I have to close my eyes again. My hand feels cold, wet. I slowly crack my eyes open again and squint at my hand. Blood. What the hell? Am I bleeding? What the hell happened?
My head is propped against something. Glass. A window. I’m leaning against a window and outside lights are flashing. Street lights. I’m in a car.
Suddenly, something is waving back and forth in front of me. A hand. I’m not alone. Someone is beside me. Waving their hand.
I lift my head, wincing at the pain, and try to twist my neck as best I can to see who it is. A man. Big. Real big. Looking down on me, waving his hand at me.
“There she is. Hey, sweetheart, look at them beautiful eyes, just like your daddy’s.”
What? Did he say my dad? Who is this person? Where the hell am I? What the hell happened? Why am I bleeding?
Then it comes back to me. Jason, on the floor, bleeding. Then…everything went black. I was knocked out. That’s why I’m bleeding. But where am I now? Who is this man?
We’re driving, me and this scary-looking man. Well, not him. Another man, just as scary-looking, is driving. I try not to look either of them in the eye and instead take in my surroundings. We’re sitting in the backseat, surrounded by black. Feels like leather. Black leather interior. I squint again at the driver, searching for the car’s emblem to get its make. Three circles. Audi. I’m in an Audi with black leather interior with two scary-looking men.
The grogginess is starting to wear off. I’m feeling a little more alert now, but the pain is almost unbearable.
Push past it, Nik. Focus.
Where are we going? I look at the street signs. Don’t recognize any of the street names. Are we out of Coral Springs? Jesus, how long was I blacked out?
I reluctantly shift my eyes over to the man beside me. I need to see what he looks like. I have to have a description of him, so when Holt finds me after I escape, I can tell him what my kidnappers looked like.
He’s got blond hair, but, like, a cheap bleach job. He’s big, almost as big as Holt. He’s got a scar running across his jaw, which makes him look even scarier. This guy is bad news. And I’m in a car with him. I’m afraid of where we’re going and why, but not afraid to demand to know. I’m not about to share Jason’s fate if I can help it.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
He throws his head back and laughs. A sick, twisted laugh, like the ones you hear from the villain in a scary movie right before he stabs his victim to death. I cringe at the sound, wanting more than anything to get out of the car.
He lifts his arm to touch me, which is when I see it. A tattoo of a naked woman. My heart stops.
I know this tattoo. I know this arm. This is the arm that pressed me up against the brick wall that night. The night I got my scar.
“Aww, sweetheart, you disappoint me. I thought for sure you’d know exactly who I was. Most people tell me my voice matches my face. Let me formally introduce myself. Ms. Nicolette Stringer, I am Vinnie Calhoun. Pleased to meet you, finally, and I must say your face is a thing of beauty. Tempting indeed. Young, perfect. I see why Maddox wants to keep you to himself. Not very nice of him not to share his women with me anymore. Kind of greedy. Don’t you think?”
Oh my God. I can’t breathe. I need air.
Why the hell would Holt have anything to do with this man, considering what he told me about him? What I know about him?
I can’t hold in my disgust. I spit at him. Before I can even blink, he’s slapped me. Hard. I wince and taste blood on my lip.
“Make no mistake, sweetheart, you do not want to fuck with me. You may find this hard to believe, but I really don’t want to hurt you. I’d much rather have you in my bed. But if you continue to provoke me, I will force you to behave, and, sweetheart, trust me, you won’t like my kind of pain.”
I look away from him, trying to hide my absolute fear, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
Dear God, Holt, please find me. And fast.
It seems like we’ve been driving for hours. I can’t be sure, though, because I lost track of time. I must’ve fallen asleep. Or passed out, I’m not really sure. When I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside, and the scary man driving is pulling off the road into a parking lot. I lift my head to see a shining sign. We’re at a motel. Campbell’s, the sign says.
“All right, sweetheart. Time to go.”
Vinnie doesn’t recognize me, doesn’t remember me. If he did, I’m certain I would’ve gotten more than the slap across my face from what I did to him to get away that night.
“I’m gonna warn you: try to run and I will find you, sugar. You think your boyfriend is good? I’m ten times better than that fucker.”
Yeah, whatever. Holt is going to rip every single bone out of his body when he finds us.
“Come on, girl. Get your ass in there.” Vinnie pushes me into a dark motel room that stinks of cigarettes and mildew and sex.
I’m scared to scream, scared to run, hoping and praying Holt will be here soon. I hear the sound of the door being
locked. I stand in the corner of the room, shivering, not knowing what’s coming next, what they plan to do with me.
“I gotta say, I can’t wait until Maddox finds out I got you. Ain’t no way they’re going to keep the nice doctor away from me now.”
My face must show my confusion, because he lets out a roar of laughter. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. Baby girl, please tell me your boyfriend told you? Fuck yeah, now this shit right here is priceless, Ray, check this shit out.”
So the other scary guy is Ray.
“Maddox didn’t fucking tell her he’s been looking for the good doctor all this time too. Oh shit, that must mean you don’t know... Shit, not gonna spoil that. Gonna wait till he’s in your face to spill that shit.”
I stop breathing.
“He knew you’d be the ticket to finding him. Just like I did. It was a game between us. Just like it always is. Who’s gonna catch the fish first. Seems Holt was working with better bait this time. But you see, me and the good doctor got some unfinished business we need to tend to. That’s where you come in. I’m just counting on Maddox to give the old man up for you. Guess we gonna find out, huh?”
The room spins, and Vinnie’s laughter rings in my ears. I can barely make out what he’s just pulled out of his back pocket. It’s shiny. And he’s walking toward me with it. I almost fall over when he pushes me, and I’m forced to lean on him as he tugs on my arm, pulling me into the bathroom.
As he lifts my hands in front of me, I discover the shiny thing is handcuffs. He closes one cuff around my left wrist then pushes me to the floor and clasps the other to the sink.
His laughter hasn’t faded as he walks out, flicking the light switch off, leaving me in the dark when he slams the door shut. I turn my head and throw up. The pain in my head is just as intense, and I’m still bleeding, the warmth of my blood dripping down my neck. I’m losing too much blood.
My eyes are heavy. I need to close them. I need to rest. Get some energy before I try to escape.
Holt didn’t come back for me.
He was looking for Doc.
The whole time.
Not for me.
He used me.
###
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story of Holt and Niki as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Look for Gaining Ground, the sequel to Shifting Gears, as the story of Holt and Niki continues.
Coming soon!
About the Author
Jenny Hayut was born and raised in Virginia, in a military town, where she still resides with her husband, two children, and their shelter rescue, Georgia, an extremely spoiled beagle mix.
Her love of writing began in elementary school and continued through high school, where she enjoyed writing quirky articles for the school newspaper and poetry for the literary magazine. Alas, when she became a full-time wife and mother, writing became an afterthought, but the dream to become a published author one day still remained.
With encouragement from her husband and friends, she decided to take to the pen once again and started listening to the voices talking in her head, dying to be heard.
In her free time she enjoys reading, bike riding, hiking, and simply spending time with her family. She attempts to maintain a flower garden and admits to baklava being her weakest link.
Connect with her online:
Twitter: @JennyHayut
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