by T. R. Cupak
“Do you still have the other syringe I gave you?”
“Yes.”
“Please, get it for me.”
Monte leaves the room and returns a moment later with the second tranquilizer dose. The doctor carefully injects the serum into Jordan’s arm, monitoring her heart and oxygen while administering the drug.
“Well, that should do it. I’ll be back in a couple of hours with everything we will need. Please, keep an eye on her. I’m guessing she hasn’t eaten in a while so the drugs could start to affect her stomach. Also, you may want to bathe and dress her in more comfortable clothes.”
“Will do, doctor.”
I escorted the doctor to the front door and thanked him for his discretion and for what he’s doing for us. He said that even though what we are doing is risky, he admires our determination to help Jordan. He wished more people had the money and support to help others like Jordan. Too many great minds are wasted on addiction.
Once the doctor had left, Monte and I got to work. I had him fill the bathtub while I sorted through all of Jordan’s clothes, trying to find something comfortable, yet easy to change her in and out of. I found a pair of men’s Thor boxer shorts and a red tank top. That should be perfect. The doctor didn’t have to tell me Jordan would have a catheter so I figured these would allow for no restriction of the tube.
“Boss, the bath is ready. I also put her toiletries beside the tub,” Monte informs me.
“Thanks, Monte. I have it from here. At least I hope I do.”
Before undressing Jordan, I remove all of my clothing. She can’t hold herself up in the tub so I decided bathing with her would be the easiest way. Carefully, I remove her clothes, trying not to disturb her. I know the doctor said she would be out for hours, but you never know with this girl. I check her breathing before getting into the tub. Thankfully it’s steady, so I step over the side of the tub, praying that I don’t slip, and clear the edge without incident. Slowly crouching down, I finally get seated, and settle Jordan between my legs.
Monte made the water hot as fuck, but I can tolerate it since I don’t know how long it’s going to take to bathe my sleeping beauty. With both of our bodies in the tub it’s practically a waterfall as it is so I drain a little bit of the water since I will need to use the handheld shower head to wash Jordan’s hair.
Any other time, this would have had my dick rock hard, but fear she’s going to wake at any moment keeps my junk in check. Without wasting anymore time, I shampoo Jordan’s hair, and then wash her body the best I can from the angle I’m in. I’ll have to save shaving for another day, or I’ll have an esthetician come in and wax her. That may be the better option since that lasts a while. With a doctor here, I’m sure an esthetician wouldn’t question the situation.
Now that I have Jordan bathed and the water drained, I slide out from behind her to exit the tub, sliding my robe on, before wrapping her in a towel and lifting her out. I kept envisioning me slipping and cracking both of our skulls if I tried to get out with her in my arms, so this way felt the safest. That’s all Monte would need is to walk in and find us both bleeding from our heads.
Once I am dressed and I have Jordan dressed and her hair towel dried, I text Monte to come back to my room. Apparently towel drying hair creates some nasty knots when you forget conditioner.
“Boss?”
“What in the fuck do we do with her hair? It’s a knotted mess,” I tell him.
He looks down and sees exactly what I’m talking about. Her long brown locks look like a family of rats made nests while she was sleeping.
“Fuck if I know,” he answers with a shrug of his big shoulders.
“What if we go back in the bathroom and I sit on the tub surround and have Jordan on my lap facing me while you brush out her hair and blow dry it?”
“Why in the fuck do I have to be the one who has to fix—that?” he scoffs back with a nod down to Jordan.
“Because you aren’t holding her like I suggested. Now stop bitching and let’s get this done before the doctor gets back.”
Monte says nothing more as we head back to bathroom. When I finally have Jordan in place Monte begins to gingerly brush her hair, trying not to rip any from her skull. If you ask me, he’s doing it way too softly and at this rate we’ll be here until next year.
“Come on, Monte. Brush her damn hair,” I loud whisper. If Jordan was going to wake up, she would have done so already, but I didn’t want to blow her eardrum out by shouting at Monte.
“Her head keeps bobbing back. I don’t want to snap her fucking neck.”
Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, I cross her back with my other arm and use my hand to hold her head as steady as I can. Monte begins to make progress once I get her head steady, although I’m not getting out of this unscathed. He’s managed to scratch my face and my hand that’s holding her neck a few times with the brush, as well as burned me couple of times from the high heat of the blow dryer. Once all was said and done, we managed to make Jordan look half way decent. I know she’s going be lying dormant for a week or so, but I didn’t want her hair to get worse than what I created when I washed it.
Two lessons to be learned; one, kidnapping is bad. Two, when washing your woman’s hair, use the conditioner and your fingers to detangle her hair during the process.
Jordan is still resting peacefully when the doctor returns. After I showed him the arsenal of medications that we took from Jordan’s old apartment, he had better clarity of what he needed to do to help her. He said this was still going to be very hard on her body, but he was glad to see that none of the drugs were street drugs and all came from pharmacies with her name on them.
The doctor then got to work setting Jordan up with an IV, catheter, a leg compression machine, heart and oxygen monitor, and the proper medication to keep her safely asleep while her body goes through the hell it’s about to go through. We propped her upper body up with pillows in the case she does happen to vomit while sleeping. This position will keep her from choking on the bile.
Since the doctor was going to be here for a few more hours, Monte and I went to the store to grab groceries, and although I’ve had this place for a little while there’s still not a whole lot of personal effects here, so we grabbed a few other things to keep us entertained during the Jordan’s detox process.
Hunter
By the second day, the doctor took some blood from Jordan and ran a few tests. He showed concern when her lab work came back, but this was something he said he needed to talk to her about. No amount of money could have swayed him to give me the results and since he’s been discrete thus far, I wasn’t going to press him on it. I would know what he needs to tell her soon enough.
Five days have passed and Jordan’s body went through every possible withdrawal your body can go through. We had to bathe her twice in one day because she vomited all over herself. We gave up on underwear or boxers after the first bath due to the fact that it was a hassle with the catheter, so we kept her in long T-shirts since we had to change her clothes a couple of times a day because her body was sweating so profusely, and lastly the shakes. Her shaking frightened me the most. They were borderline epileptic, but the doctor assured me they weren’t seizures and that’s what happens when the body is used to being high all the time and now it’s not.
He said we were lucky we didn’t have to hear screaming, cries of pain, or begging for something to take the edge off. That’s where most people get weak. They cave because they hate watching their loved one writhe in pain from the withdrawals. We only witnessed tortured facial expressions and soft whimpers, which at times I wondered if they were from her constant nightmares of her past instead of what her body was going through.
Once day seven rolled around and Jordan’s complexion and vitals all looked good, the doctor began the process to wake her. I asked if he needed to be here for that and he then questioned why we wouldn’t want him here. My only explanation was that her last memory was partying and here
she is, in a somewhat unfamiliar space, a week later. I told him it would be best if I was to break the news to her privately. Against his better judgement, he allowed for our privacy, but insisted that he will be back the next day, whether she was awake or not.
“What do you mean if she’s awake? How long does it take to wake up?” I ask confused.
“It can take an hour to many more. There’s no saying, since everyone’s bodies are different. You have to remember that Jordan’s went through a lot while she was out. She may stay sleeping all on her own,” he answers.
Well fuck.
“Alright. It is what it is. Monte will help you with the rest of your stuff,” and with that, I thank the doctor and shake his hand before I take my place back on the bed next to Jordan.
It wasn’t long before all of the medical equipment and the doctor were gone. He said that when he comes back to check on Jordan he will bring her a prescription for a low dose antidepressant because he understands that she does have a mental imbalance that she struggles with.
After settling back with Jordan, I realized we hadn’t put underwear back on her, so I grabbed a pair of her boyshorts, and slid them up her slender legs. Even though we kept her legs in the compression boots and moved her ligaments often throughout each day, the doctor said she may be unstable when she tries to walk for the first time. Her bodies only nourishment came from a tube so she will be weak. Am I total fuck for being glad about that? It only means she can’t bolt. Yeah, I’m a fuck.
“We’re finally alone, Precious. You can wake up any time now,” I whisper by her ear, but get no response.
My phone chimes with a text from Monte asking if I was hungry. I replied back with a no, and that I was going to rest before Jordan wakes up.
“You breathe, I breathe,” I tell her just before dozing off.
Chapter Eleven
Jordan
Soreness is the first feeling I get when I wake up. Why in the hell would I be so sore? I first think that maybe Hunter and I got a little more acrobatic when we were having sex, but that doesn’t sound right. I try to roll to my left but my body refuses to move that direction. Shifting as much as I can, I realize my bed isn’t making that horrid squeaking sound it makes at the slightest movement. That’s strange.
As my eyes begin to adjust to the dimly lit room and I take in my surroundings, I know they aren’t my own, but they are familiar. I shake my head as I struggle to bring my hand up to my eyes to help move along the focusing process when light snoring next to me has my head snapping to the right. Hunter.
Stretching out my body I can’t help the “ouch” that slips out, instantly waking Hunter from his peaceful slumber. He sits up quickly and stares down at me. He looks like he’s seen a ghost and I can’t figure out why. My stomach makes a loud rumbly sound, my embarrassment slowly creeps across my face.
“I think I’m hungry,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he replies with a bit of hesitance in his voice.
Seriously, what the fuck is going on? I try to get up, but my arms buckle from my weight and now I’m beginning to panic.
“What’s wrong with my body?” I ask. “Hunter, what’s going on?”
The look on his face screams guilt, but guilty of what? Goddammit.
“Hunter, answer me, please.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asks cautiously.
“I don’t fucking know. What the fuck is going on? Why is my body not working right?” I ask more sternly.
He blows out air before responding, “Do you remember coming to the hotel?” Damn him for answering my question with a question.
“Hotel? No.” And once that word leaves my lips, it’s like whiplash. Flashes of our fight in a hotel room flicker through my mind; and then, like it was only moments ago, it all comes back to me. “Goddamn you, Hunter! What the fuck did you do to me?” My fear edges out panic. He knows the real me. He knows my fucking past. He’s known all along, he confessed all of that.
“Why won’t my body work, Hunter? What-did-you-do-to-me?” Tears stream down my face. The bastard still hasn’t answered any of my questions. He just sits there looking like a frightened little kid. Fuck him and how he feels. He has answers. I don’t.
The bedroom door swings open and in bursts Monte. He must have heard me yelling at Hunter and is coming to save his beloved boss.
“And you,” I snap in Monte’s direction, “What the fuck? Someone better start talking or I’ll—,” fuck, what the hell can I do? I’m at their goddamn mercy. “Just, someone start explaining— NOW.”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Monte says.
“Oh, no you don’t, Monte. You are just as guilty as he is. You can stay here and help this dumbass explain what’s going on.”
For the first time ever, Monte looks scared. Of what? Beats me. I can barely move my limbs enough, so it’s not like I can try to attack either one of these guys, so it’s not me he’s cowering from.
“Okay, first, explain how I got here,” I demand, motioning the best I can around the room I’ve been in once before.
Tweedledee and Tweedledum look at each other, then at me, and then back at each other. I swear if I could move I’d be clawing someone’s eyes out until they started speaking.
“I tranq’d you,” Hunter finally admits.
“I’m sorry, you what?”
“You were pissed, and you were going to leave the hotel room, so I gave you a shot of a low dose sedative that knocked you out. It hit a little harder than I expected because of whatever else was in your system. Basically, I was coward and I was afraid that once you walked out the door, I would lose you forever.”
“Can one of you two idiots, please help sit me up?” Both men move quickly to assist me into an upright position. I’m thankful I have enough strength to keep myself sitting up straight. “Continue,” I grit out.
“Once you were out, I asked Monte to help me clean out your apartment, which I paid out the rest of your lease. Then we got on a plane, brought you here, put you in a medically induced coma for a week so your body could detox, and now here we all are.” I don’t think Hunter even took a single breath in that whole statement.
That’s a whole lot of information I wasn’t expecting to hear. How do I process all of it? Fuck, how do I fucking move on my own accord?
“Wait, you cleaned out my apartment?”
“Yes.”
“And paid out my lease?”
“That is correct.”
“My landlord didn’t even ask where I was?”
“Jordan, think about where you lived.”
That was a low blow. Sadly, he’s right though. Half the tenants paid weekly while the other half paid monthly. That’s the kind of apartment complex I lived in. I bet the landlord was thrilled to get all of his money in fell swoop.
“But, then you two took it upon yourselves to keep me in a coma, on purpose? What in the ever-living fuck, Hunter?” My voice escalates when I say his name. I’m furious. I want to run, but my stupid body won’t allow for it. Son of a bitch. These guys kidnapped me and there’s no one on this planet who would ever come looking for me. Hell, I don’t even think my boss, Ms. Jones, will even care that I’m not around. She did tell me that if I stopped responding to potential clients, then she was taking that as my resignation.
“Miss Smith, there has been a doctor here this whole time. We did the detox safely,” Monte adds onto Hunter’s confession.
“Oh, you did it safely, so that makes kidnapping and keeping me in a coma okay?”
“No,” both men reply in unison.
“Where is this mystery doctor? How was it ethical for him to do this to me without my consent?”
“He’s a good doctor, but even a doctor’s ethics have a price,” Hunter adds.
“Again, where is this doctor?” I ask once more.
“He’ll be back in the morning,” Monte answers my question.
“Why would you clean out my apartment?”
“Because you’re mine and I want you with me— always,” Hunter says with a vote of confidence.
“Yours? Why would I stay with you? Are you delusional? You’ve lied to me. You’ve drugged me. And now you’ve kidnapped me. Please, Hunter, tell me, in what world would a woman stay with someone like you?” I hiss out.
“Our world. The one we will create together.”
Oh-my-god. This man is infuriating. He isn’t listening to me.
“Get out,” I deadpan.
“No,” Hunter challenges back, as Monte takes this opportunity to split, and hightails it out of the room with his tail between his legs.
“Why don’t you follow your companion? You two make a perfect fucking couple.”
“No.”
My body is shaking from frustration and anger. This man wants to control everything and he needs to learn that he can’t. I’m not some obedient little tart who will bow down. I may have done as he asked when he paid me to do so, but now, in this fucked up situation, hell no. Whatever happens is going to be on my terms, not his. At least that’s what I tell myself.
“Then make yourself useful and go get me some fucking water… please.”
“I’ll tell Monte to bring you some.”
“Goddammit, Hunter. Give me a fucking moment alone. Go get me some freaking water!” I scream back at him with a crackle to my voice. I can feel my throat getting raw. Apparently when you don’t talk for a few days it can affect your vocal chords. This keeps getting better by the second.
He can see that I’m ready to lose my shit and leaves the room to fetch me some water. I drop my head back against the headboard and stare up at the ceiling. What in the hell am I going to do? This man is going to fight me at every turn, and I don’t think I have the strength to fight back. He commands my attention, and no matter what he seems to do, he has it, and I loathe the fact that I’m so damned weaken by Hunter. And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t think I have the willpower to stay away, even if I did leave here on my own free will. Somehow, some way, he would chisel his way back into my life. He’s been here all along anyway. The question is, do I just give in now and let him have his way, because in the end, his way will eventually be my way? Damn him.