by Lauren Dawes
With her eyes narrowed, she looked around the room from her prostrate position on the bed. Directly in front of her was a door with a chicken-wire infused glass panel in the top right-hand corner at eye height. Through the panel, she could see the nurses’ station set back into the corner and a hallway bustling with people running between the two points.
Behind the desk, there was a blonde with a name tag that read ‘Melissa’. She was busily feeding some information into a computer. Indi squeezed her eyes shut suddenly, drawing deep breaths through her nose to settle the pounding in her chest. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen. The desk was around thirty feet away from her, but she’d been able to see it all so clearly.
One breath in … This can’t be happening.
One breath out … What kind of fucked up drugs did they give me in here?
One breath in … Oh God!
Indi swallowed down convulsively on the vomit that had made a run for the exit. All she could smell was ammonia, human waste, weeping wounds and decay. The scent was sticky; coating the back of her tongue and clinging to her lungs. Retching again, she had no choice but to swallow it back down again. With another groan, she threw her head back into her pillow.
Her head rocked back and forth on the pillow. This couldn’t be happening to her. What kind of things had they done to her in there? Her eyes squeezed shut, but that only made things worse. Instead of just being able to smell everything, she was able to hear everything too.
There was an Evac chopper on its way in. Indi recognised the sound because they flew over her building all the time. But this one was far away, just a faint buzzing in her eardrums at the moment.
I must be dreaming, she thought to herself. This is simply not possible.
Her breathing hitched in her throat while her heart started pounding against her ribcage with invisible fists, demanding to be let out. The machine next to her head went berserk trying to keep up with the rhythm.
The door opposite the bed opened with a hush as Indi continued to freak out. With cautious eyes, she watched the same doctor who had come in before with all the interest of a cornered—and in her case, restrained—mouse.
‘Hello Indigo,’ he said, keeping a good, safe distance away from her. ‘I’m Doctor White. Are you feeling a little more in control of yourself now?’ he asked in a slightly condescending voice. She didn’t like it, baring her teeth at him, but movement from the door caught her attention. The same nurse she’d slugged was standing guard, watching to see if she was going to behave or not.
‘What the fuck did you do to me?’ she snapped, going for fierce and dangerous, but failing because she was strapped to a hospital bed. The doctor took another step closer around the bed. He was as tall as Jerry, but built like he was allergic to sports or any physical activity. She could tell he was conscious of his height by the way he rolled his shoulders forward. His head was crowned by a mass of black curls that just touched the top of his ears and a pair of deeply-set brown eyes.
He stared at her, completely stuck on her eyes. They must have removed her contacts. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she thought. She needed a distraction. ‘Well?’ she snarled.
He shook his head slowly before focussing on the chart again. ‘We had to sedate you. You attacked one of our nurses. Do you know that?’
‘Of course I know that. He was trying to stick another damn needle in me.’
‘We had to Indigo. You pulled your other IV out and you were bleeding out. See?’ he asked, nodding down to her left arm. Reluctantly, her eyes shifted to the crook of her elbow where, sure enough, there was a gauze pad stuck to her skin. She looked at her right arm and found the offensive needle she’d fought so hard against.
‘Can you take it out?’
‘Not right now. I want you to eat and drink something before we take any lines out.’
‘Can you take the restraints off then? I feel like I’m being prepped for execution here.’
The doctor glanced over towards the door. The dark shadow that had been standing there gave a nod and the doctor turned back to her.
‘You’re not going to lose your temper again?’
‘Scouts honour,’ she replied.
With a sharp nod, he put the clipboard he’d been fondling down onto the bed and undid all four buckles. She rubbed her wrists for a long time afterwards.
‘How are you feeling Indigo?’ he asked with an almost sympathetic look on his face.
‘Indi,’ she replied, still rubbing her skin.
He glanced down at her, the light catching the gold tones in his brown eyes. ‘Okay. Indi, how are you feeling?’
‘Okay, I guess.’
He asked, ‘You’re not in any pain?’
‘Should I be?’
‘No. Just a routine question.’
She looked around the room. ‘Where am I?’
‘You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital.’
‘In Reynard?’ How in the hell had she ended up twenty miles from Buxton? ‘How did I get here?’
‘You were found outside the hospital. Someone had pretty much dropped you off and driven away.’
She frowned. ‘I was dumped?’
‘Dumped is not a very nice word to use, but …’ he shrugged, as if by not saying the word he wouldn’t be so offensive.
‘What was wrong with me?’
‘Well, you see, that was the strange thing. We couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you. You were unconscious, but that was all there was. We were hoping you’d be able to tell us something about what happened to you.’
Indi strained her memory, trying to bring forward any recollection about how she’d ended up in the next city. But all she came up with was a whole lot of nothing—a fuzzy black hole of confusion. ‘I don’t remember anything.’
‘So you have no recollection of what happened to you?’
‘No. I can’t remember anything after getting off the phone with Jerry and leaving my apartment building.’
‘Jerry?’ he asked, one eyebrow arching questioningly at her.
‘My brother.’
‘Right. So, you didn’t feel light-headed or nauseous? Did you have a tingle in your arm or tightness in your chest?’
‘No. I don’t remember anything,’ she told him again, wondering if he was hard of hearing. Should she be speaking louder? He frowned and picked up the chart again. Indi licked her dry lips. ‘So doc, what you’re saying is that you didn’t have any idea what was wrong with me when you found me. Is that about accurate?’
He leafed through a few pages before saying, ‘You were unconscious, unresponsive to light and pain, but you seemed to be breathing on your own. Brain function was normal. There were no injuries on your body except for some scars on your back.’ His dark eyes met hers again. ‘Do you want to talk about those scars Indi? They look new, no older than six months old.’ Indi swallowed hard on her dry throat. ‘And why do you carry a knife?’ he added conversationally.
She pinned him with her gaze. ‘I want that back,’ she snapped.
‘You do know that it’s an offense to carry a concealed weapon, don’t you?’
‘Think I give a fuck?’ She could feel the cold tingle of anger rushing through her blood. Staring down at her hands, she clenched them into fists to try and control her breathing. The doctor stared at her hands and she knew that if she didn’t cool off, she’d be restrained again.
‘Indi? Will you answer my question about the scars?’
She looked up into his curious brown eyes and the impulse to see if he squirmed was just too good to pass up. ‘I had a foster father who enjoyed bleeding me while he and his buddies gang raped me.’
The doctor’s mouth tightened as he fought the flinch. She smiled sadistically.
‘Is that why you carry the blade, to protect yourself?’ he asked eventually.
Her top lip curled up in a sneer. Doctor White stared back at the clear sign of aggression for a long, slow minute before reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling ou
t her knife still in its leather sheath. Turning it over in his hands, he said, ‘I can’t give this back to you,’ he said seriously. ‘Hospital policy.’
Indi’s eyes burned with the intensity of hellfire. ‘Give it to me,’ she growled. Her anger was slowly rising, simmering like a volcano under her skin. Doctor White didn’t drop his gaze. It looked as if he wanted to though; sweat breaking out on his brow and upper lip the longer their eyes were locked.
He licked his lips and stammered, ‘I can’t give it back––’ His words trailed off, his eyes becoming cloudy like cataracts had just formed in the last quarter of a second.
‘Give it to me,’ she repeated. She wouldn’t let anyone have her knife. She wouldn’t ever be left unprotected again.
‘I’m not––,’ he admitted softly, unravelling his fingers from around the sheath. Indi’s fingers naturally gravitated to the steel. As soon as she laid her hand on the knife, she yanked it away from him.
Biting her lip, Indi’s eyes dropped to the leather-sheathed hunting knife and lifted it into her lap. A moment later, she shoved it under her pillow; feeling the tension in her shoulders ease knowing that it was back where it was supposed to be.
When she looked up, she noticed that the doctor was shaking his head slowly; his brown eyes clearing just as suddenly as they’d clouded. ‘Okay Indi,’ he said squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Before we start thinking about introducing solids, I have just a few small tests to run on you …’ He paused to rub his forehead like he was trying to stimulate blood flow. ‘So if you could please look at my finger.’
‘Are you feeling okay, doc?’
‘Fine, fine … Just, ah, I suddenly got a splitting headache.’
‘Maybe you should be the one in the bed then,’ she suggested.
He looked at her pointedly. ‘I’ll be fine.’ Doctor White pulled a penlight from his front pocket. ‘Follow my finger with your eyes.’ She did. He must have liked what he’d seen because he put the little light away.
‘You have extraordinary coloured eyes Indi,’ he commented casually.
‘They’re contacts,’ she lied, dropping her gaze to the bed.
‘Right. Can I have your arm?’ He wrapped the cuff of his sphygmomanometer around her upper arm and positioned the Velcro in place. The stethoscope was warm against her skin as he pumped up the bulb. Indi could feel her pulse pounding through her entire body as the doctor listened. When he frowned, Indi became concerned. She didn’t want to stay in the hospital for any longer than she had to.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong. Your blood pressure is a little low, that’s all. Do you feel light-headed now?’
‘No. I feel fine.’
He slung his stethoscope around his neck and just stared at her for a moment. ‘Hmm.’ Pulling the Velcro apart, he slid the cuff from her arm and put it somewhere behind the bed. Indi looked down at her needle-defaced arm.
‘Can you get me some food so you can take this thing out yet?’
‘Sure. I’ll send in an orderly with something small.’
The doctor left, and true to his word, an orderly did come in with some food. She wasn’t nearly close enough to being hungry, but Indi ate it all because she so desperately wanted to get the needle out of her vein. She was eyeing off the tape again when a nurse finally pushed into the room half an hour later.
She was tall with legs that went for days. Her skin was the colour of dark, velvety coffee. Intricate cornrows in a symmetrical pattern were complimented by little red and white beads strung through the ends. The melody was nice when she first walked in, but the noise soon got under Indi’s skin.
‘Doctor White said your IV could come out after you ate. Are you ready now?’ she asked in a thick, Caribbean accent.
Indi nodded. The nurse moved to her bedside, and started pulling the tape from her skin. She watched the smooth, lean muscles in her forearms move as she worked, and Indi was betting that she wasn’t afraid of going to the gym. She smiled down at her, her white teeth a stark contrast to the rich colour of her skin.
The nurse leaned in close to pull the rest of the tape off and pulled the needle free. Indi couldn’t help but breathe in the smell of her skin, sampling her soap and her perfume in one deep breath. An undertone in the scent made her mouth begin to water suddenly, as if she’d just smelt Jerry’s rib roast. Why did the urge to bite become so strong? Indi licked her lips without thinking.
‘There,’ the nurse announced, ‘all done.’ She ran a surgical swab over the entry wound and motioned to Indi to hold it there with some pressure for a moment while she taped some fresh gauze down. ‘Do you need me to help you to the bathroom Indigo?’ she asked, placing the needle into the yellow bio-hazard bucket. Indi shook her head. ‘Well, you just push this button if you need anything.’ She pointed at a red button on the wall with the word ‘call’ written above it.
‘Will do,’ she replied, just as a wave of exhaustion rolled through her body.
Chapter 19
‘You disgust me!’ the woman spat. Buddy’s whole body burned with anger; his bones melting in an inferno of his rage.
‘What did you say?’ he ground out.
‘I said you disgust me,’ she replied, still marching away from him. She was the whore, so what right did she have to tell him that he was disgusting? His anger was suddenly boiling over. Grabbing her by the arm, he yanked her back and threw her to the ground. Before she could recover, he was on top of her, pinning her with his body weight. He placed his face so close to hers they were breathing the same air.
‘Say it again bitch and I’ll end you. You got that?’ His voice was a guttural growl. She started to whimper and Buddy slapped her face to shut her up. But she wouldn’t stop. Gripping her by the throat, he squeezed. She started clawing at his hands and arms, trying to prise him off. But Buddy had learned long ago that his size should be used for the advantage that it was.
‘Please … don’t do this,’ she begged, choking out the words. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth and her nose. Buddy applied more pressure to her throat. Her blue eyes bulged, the blood vessels bursting in front of his eyes. It wasn’t until she passed out that he released his tight grip. His finger marks would leave a bruise, and that only got him hard.
Sitting back on his haunches, he looked her over. Her blouse was ripped; her black, lace bra peeking out from under the scarlet material. The bruising on her cheeks was already coming through, the beginnings of a black eye showing under her eyes. Buddy heard the change in her breathing when she finally came to a few seconds later. Her eyes were so wide with fear that he could see the whites all the way around. With a quivering lower lip, she begged for her life. ‘Please,’ she repeated in a cough.
‘Shut up,’ he hissed into her ear, pulling her up off the ground roughly. He shoved her hard in the back, pushing her further into the alleyway. Her muffled whimpers bounced off the walls, echoing in Buddy’s head, hardening his pounding erection. Behind the cover of a dumpster, he ordered her to remove her pants.
‘N-No,’ she stuttered, keeping her gaze on the cold ground. The blood from her nose and lip had stopped flowing, sticking to her skin in tacky red lines across her right cheek.
‘No?’ he asked softly. She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. He mimicked her refusal and pulled a small switchblade from the waistband of his jeans. He held the tip to her delicate, white throat. ‘Take. Them. Off,’ he growled, pressing the metal into her skin so there was no way that she thought he wasn’t serious.
Her body began shaking as she tried to hold back the tears. He wasn’t buying it. Against his nature, he waited patiently for the submission switch to be thrown. Bitches always gave it up after being threatened for a while, although usually a good beating did the trick most times. The sound of her belt buckle being undone signalled his victory. She slid the fabric down her legs, her hands automatically trying to cover herself.
‘
Move your hands,’ he barked. When she didn’t comply, he pressed the blade a little harder to her throat. A new bead of blood surfaced and rolled down her skin. She whimpered a little before moving her hands. Buddy got a good look at the pre-wrapped spoils.
‘Now, take off your panties.’
The girl started to shake her head, but changed her mind when he drew the blade further down, across her skin to her collarbone.
‘I may slip down to cut off something important if you don’t hurry the fuck up,’ he hissed into her ear.
‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Don’t do this.’
‘It’s too late for that. Drop them,’ he demanded. She slipped her hands into the fabric at her hips and began pulling them down. Her compliance was accompanied by silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Flipping her around and with a hand between her shoulder blades, he forced her towards the wall.
‘Open your legs,’ he growled. Her head shook quickly, a muted moan escaping her throat. Buddy’s lip curled up a little. With the tip of the switchblade, he ran it along the length of her leg—starting at her ankle, over her undefined calves and behind her kneecap. He lingered there when a low moan escaped her lips. He smiled. There was nothing like the promise of her guilt in the future over what had happened to get him harder. He drew the blade up her thigh and when he reached the curve of her ass, he dug the blade in and drew fresh blood. She screamed through her tears.
‘Open them now, or the next thing I’m cutting will be between your legs.’
Another indiscriminate sound later, she inched her legs open a little wider. With his prize in sight, Buddy unzipped his own pants and sprang his cock. The tip was weeping with anticipation as he guided himself into her. She jerked against his body as he pushed further and further into her body. She was slick and ready for him. Whores were always the same. They said no, but their bodies always said yes.
