Virgin's Dirty Boss

by Nicole Elliot

  “Ella, hide!” I scream in a panic. I try to slam the door on him, but he's just too strong. When he pushes on the door again, I'm launched back onto the floor from the sheer force of his push.

  “Cami, you need to hear me out,” he says, taking another swig of liquor from the bottle in his hand before shutting the door.

  “I told you, Ty, I’m done,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. He walks closer and stands over me and laughs.

  “All I see is fear in your eyes. You're afraid of me, aren't you?” he asks.

  I shake my head and try to slide back to the edge of the bed to get away from him. His face grows dark and he reaches down, grabbing me around the throat. Tears begin to flow from my eyes, and my vision starts to blur as he grips my throat possessively. I feel nothing but death breathing down on me. A cold chill takes over as my eyes flutter open and shut from my air supply being limited. I don’t want to think about what I’m feeling. I can’t. I feel my body quaking, fluttering erratically inside. Adrenaline surges through me and my reflexes kick in. I fight with everything in me not to pass out.

  “Stop fighting me,” he screams just centimeters from my face. In that moment, I realize that I've knocked the whiskey bottle from his hand. From the corner of my eye, I can see the shards of glass from the broken liquor bottle, so I reach for them. He catches me reaching for it and snatches my arm and pins it under his knee.

  “No way you’re getting that,” he says, smashing my head against the floor and grabbing a large piece of glass. I cry out and he laughs wickedly before pressing the broken glass into my face. “If I can't have you, I’ll make sure no one will want you,” he says as he presses it deeper into my flesh.

  I can feel my warm blood beginning to pool under my head as he cuts down my face. The pain is too much and I can feel myself losing consciousness. Looking up at him one last time, I can’t believe the hate I see. This time, when my eyes fall shut, I am thrust into complete darkness.

  20

  Jett

  “I can’t believe that asshole got me,” I complain to Wilson as he stands watch next to my hospital bed. They don’t even put me in a room. They see my vest and patch me up right in the hallway. I don’t ask for pain meds—Wilson gave me tequila on the way here.

  “Meh, you were being slow. Honestly man, I think you let him hit you so we could come back here and look for that girl. You said you ran into her here, right? In scrubs? So she’s gotta work here.”

  “Yeah but I’ve ridden by every day this week and haven’t caught up to her. I don’t want her to think I’m stalking her.”

  “You’re nearly done, just stop talking,” the nurse says as she puts the last bandage on my eye. I probably look a mess. Stupid fucker. God damn drug dealers trying to mess up my town? Hell no.

  “All done,” the nurse says with a small smile. “The doctor will make sure that heals up nicely.”

  “I don’t need to see a doc, sweetheart, you’ve done well enough, I’m sure.” I watch as she blushes a bit and then grabs my electronic chart.

  “You can head out the front, they’ll handle billing there.”

  “Ok, thanks.” We pay my bill in cash and get ready to go.

  “You’re lucky the club let you come here. Usually we clean up our own messes.”

  “Yeah I know, but I’ve got a pretty face, can’t be fucking it up with some gash above my eye, now can I?”

  Wilson laughs and slaps me on the back. We walk toward the exit and the place is buzzing. Big city hospitals always have something going on. An ambulance pulls up just as we’re at the glass sliding doors. We step out of the way of the medics so they can unload the passenger. I’m in perfect line to see the body when they open the doors. My heart drops in my stomach like a steel ball.

  “Cami,” I whisper under my breath. Her blood soaked hair is the first thing I notice. Then, the long, jagged cut down her face registers in my brain. A teenage boy steps off the ambulance behind her.

  “What happened? Was she in a wreck?” I ask the distraught young man.

  “N-n-no,” he stutters. “I don't know what happened to her.”

  I quickly follow behind him into the waiting room.

  “Isn’t that the girl? Rum and coke? This isn’t what I meant by catching her here man. I’m sorry.”

  I nod solemnly. I hear Wilson pull out his phone and call the club. “We’re not going to be back for a while,” he says. She’s wheeled away immediately and we’re left sitting in the waiting room once again. I find myself staring at the white walls around me as a million different scenarios play through my mind.

  I watch as two nurses talk behind a counter across from us. Wilson doesn’t speak; he’s got his head back and eyes closed. “She isn’t showing any signs of consciousness and she’s being taken to the ICU.” Fuck.

  “Is she going to wake up?” the young man who accompanied her in the ambulance asks, clearly concerned. Poor kid, he’s probably never seen shit like this before.

  “I don't know,” I hear another nurse admit from the doorway. “I sure hope so, Cami's a really great girl. She just got hired here. I hear she's had a lot thrown at her, but she just takes it all, and smiles.”

  “I'm the one who found her,” he repeats over and over, clearly feeling guilty. “She’d ordered a pizza, and I was late getting it to her. My girlfriend and I were having an argument so I pulled the car over to try to talk it out with her.”

  His eyes begin to fill with tears so I walk over and pat him on the shoulder. “This isn't your fault. Whoever did this was probably scared away by you. In fact, you saved her life by acting so quickly and responsibly.”

  He nods, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “When she wakes up, will you call me?” he asks.

  “Of course I will,” I reply, taking the now crinkled piece of paper from his hand. I look down at the name and number scrawled across the piece of paper. “Austin?”

  “Yeah?” he asks.

  “I'm sure she will be happy to thank you herself when she wakes up,” I tell him and then watch as he smiles and walks out the door.

  Hours later, I’m standing over her, looking at her sweet face. I lied and said I was family, her brother, and no one questioned it. Gotta love the respect that comes with the vest. I would love to know who did this to her and show them the same fucking courtesy. Looking at her tears me up inside, wondering how anyone could do this horrible thing to such a sweet girl. I scoot out of the way as a nurse quickly checks her vitals, and then places another blanket over her before leaving.

  No matter what I try to do, I'm distracted by the image of her battered face every time I close my eyes. As I pull into my driveway later that night, everything suddenly hits me. I don't cry, but an anger unlike anything I've known fills me. I thought Jackson dying was bad, but it was nothing compared to this.

  Nothing.

  I did my part overseas to hurt those motherfuckers, but this one is too close to home. I will find this asshole, and I will kill him.

  It’s that simple.

  21

  Cami

  My eyes flutter open slowly only to find my vision distorted, and there's a burning sensation on the left side of my face. Blinded by the bright overhead lights, I close my eyes again.

  “Miss Garrett?” I hear, coming from only inches away.

  Turning my face to the right, I open my eyes and try to make out who is talking to me. As my eyes begin to focus, panic fills me and I try to sit up. I scream out in pain as the soothing voice speaks again.

  “Don't try to sit up. Do you know where you are?” he asks.

  “Ella! Ella,” I scream as loud as I can. “Where's my baby?”

  “Calm down, Cami, your daughter is with your Aunt.”

  “No,” I say, barely audible. My throat feels like I swallowed acid. “Where am I?” I ask, and tears fill my eyes from the pain.

  “You are in the ICU at Nashville General.”

  Everything begins to come rushing
back and I remember what happened. I lie there, staring at the person talking to me. “Do I know you?” I ask.

  “Yes, Cami.” As my thoughts become focused, I finally recognize him.

  “Jett Stewart,” I whisper as loudly as I can.

  “Yeah,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. He looks like he wants to say more, but the nurse comes in at that moment and brings some pain medication.

  “Well hello there,” she says to Jett. “How’s that head healing up?”

  “Hey, Beth, it’s all right, thanks,” he responds. Beth smiles at him and is probably thinking the same thing I am. Damn, he’s hot.

  “Cami, this will probably make you sleepy,” she says. I nod as the cold injection fills my veins. In a few moments, I can feel my eyes sliding shut as the pain begins to subside. But right before everything falls away, I feel a warm hand on mine.

  “I’m here, Cami, I’m not going anywhere.”

  22

  Cami

  Jett is with me, and somehow that makes me feel better. Or maybe it’s all the drugs they’re pumping into my system. I can’t tell anymore.

  “You know, most people who’ve never been in a situation like this often wonder why a person wouldn't just leave. They don't understand that breaking up can be more complicated than it seems,” he says.

  “But I did leave. I ran, hoping that my past wouldn't find me.”

  “Well, some of your past is sitting here in front of you, and you left me. I never forgot you.”

  I nod, listening to him and his attempt to get me to open up. “What day is it?” I ask weakly.

  “It's Tuesday,” he replies, watching me closely.

  I remember it being Friday. As I sit there trying to comprehend what he’s just told me, my mind begins to wander.

  “Camryn, are you ok?”

  “I'm as good as I can be, considering the circumstances. I have an answer to your question. I stayed because of fear. I was afraid of what would happen if I decided to leave the relationship. But I got out, I got away. And he still found me!” I’m also aware of my cell lighting up and then fading back to dimness, resting on the table next to the bed. I can't bring myself to move or answer the persistent calls from Ty. He did this and there’s no way I can ever put myself in that situation again.

  Besides the beat of my heart, the only sounds in the room are Jett's deep voice and the constant hum of the machines. He continues to talk and I lose myself in the reality of what happened. Jett becomes silent as he observes me.

  I can still feel the piece of glass from the shattered whiskey bottle jaggedly tearing into the skin of my face and slicing down to my neck. I immediately bring my hand up to the left side of my face. I cringe at the pain that radiates from it. I suck in as much air as my lungs will allow and let it out slowly. My eyes fall to my right hand and the cut that has been closed with black surgical thread. A flash of memory is seared into my mind.

  As I continue to look over myself I see the sporadic bruises that line my arms, and my whole body feels like it's been beaten to a pulp. Shifting the blanket slowly to reveal my legs, I find dark purple bruises, and scratches are evident on my thighs. As I pull my gown up higher, the damage increases. I can feel the color leaving my face. Jett never stops his gaze, and there’s something comforting about it. Like seeing this all for the first time with him here makes it better, safer somehow.

  The bruise hidden by my gown looks nasty; it's the darkest of purple, outlined by red and yellow, just above my hip on my right side. Pulling the gown back down, I feel the tears sliding down my face. “Can I see a mirror?” I ask.

  “I don't see why not, but brace yourself,” he says, handing me a small, hand sized mirror, and I peer at my horrid reflection.

  An angry red and jagged line runs from my ear to my collarbone. My neck is circled in a reddish purple ring reminiscent of being strangled. The whites of my eyes are bloodshot, with a pale hue of pink. As I continue to scrutinize my face, I notice stitching in the corner of my mouth and dried blood still lingering on my hairline. Slamming the mirror down on the bed, I let a sob rip from my chest.

  Jett closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around my shoulders in a useless effort to try to comfort me. “Cami, it’s going to be ok, I promise. I’m going to take care of the asshole who did this, just wait.”

  “How could he do this?” I whisper to myself as Jett continues to hold me. A doctor comes in with a disgusted look on his face.

  “Miss Garrett, I’m Dr. Bennett. It looks like you will be with us for a few days. Along with your obvious injuries, you have multiple fractured ribs, and we want to be certain they don't puncture your lungs.” I nod and wipe my tears with the hem of my gown. “Is there any family you would like us to call?”

  I shake my head and hear the familiar tap of my supervisor’s boots coming down the hallway.

  “Oh dear Cami,” she says reassuringly as she walks through the door. She freezes a couple feet from me and her mouth drops slightly. Her eyes make their way down my face and onto my neck. I can tell she’s trying to keep calm, typical hospital staff. She rushes over to me, hugging me tightly and I cry out.

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her tears away with her fingers. “Maia told me you were here and I just had to check on you. Are you all right?”

  “I’m alive.”

  “Yes, you are. Thank God for that. Do you know who did this? What’s going on?”

  Jett stands. “We’re handling it,” he says in a cold, calculated voice.

  She takes one look at him as she touches my shoulder softly. “I bet you are.”

  She nods to Dr. Bennett and Jett. “You boys better take good care of my girl,” she tells them. “Cami, I hate to leave but I got to get back to work. I’ll make sure Maia knows I was here, she’ll be down soon I’m sure.” She says, trying to remain composed.

  She hugs me lightly and leaves the room quickly; I can hear her heaving in the hallway. Jett comes back over and sits on the stool.

  “I work in labor and delivery here,” I say in a garbled voice. Jett sits there looking at me like he wants to say something, but never does. I close my eyes and focus on breathing. A slight click on the door startles me and my eyes pop open. I find myself all alone. I feel useless, like a failure. All I want to do now is lie down and give up, let the darkness take over. Closing my eyes again, I feel tears start to trickle down my cheeks to the pillow, and eventually, sleep finds me.

  The dim light in the room begins to become brighter as the door slowly creaks open. I open my eyes slowly, squinting and trying to make out the face in the dark. His feet slide across the linoleum quietly, and I almost get a good look at the man when I catch a whiff of his cologne. I freeze, like a deer in the headlights. It's Ty, it has to be. I open my mouth to scream, but he must sense it and places his hand over my mouth. I try to reach the nurses’ button but the pain in my chest and side limit my movement.

  “Don't scream, ok?” he says in a whisper. I nod lightly. “If you're going to scream I'll just leave my hand where it is, and I'm sure it hurts you. I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” I nod again as my eyes begin to flood with tears. “Listen to me, Cami, I'm sorry. I went crazy when you wouldn't listen to me,” he says, his voice dripping with guilt.

  When I dare to look up again, Ty turns his head so that the dim light filtering through the blinds hit his face; he's unshaven and still in the same clothes. His bloodshot eyes are swollen and he looks terrible. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes is so potent I want to gag. I lay there unable to move, even more afraid to speak, because know If I open my mouth, I will scream.

  Ty looks down at me. “Cami, damn it, I love you.” I draw in a deep breath when he begins to move his hand.

  “Why?” I sob. “Why would you do this to me? You were the one in the wrong.”

  “Fuck!” he screams, rearing his hand back to slap me. Unable to move without crying out in pain, all I can do is bring my arms up to protect
my face. Ty catches himself only inches from me. “We'll talk when you get out of here,” he says, stumbling to the door.

  Staring at the window as he creeps by, I inhale deeply and shift to reach the call button. I hold my finger just over it and contemplate whether I should or not. He is clearly dangerous and I don't want anyone else caught in the crosshairs of his rage, so I place it back down on the bed and sit there in the darkness.

  Every sound makes me jumpy and I can feel the medicine wearing off. My phone begins to ring so I reach over and look at it. The picture is one of the best memories I have. It's the picture of Ty and me when we moved into our house a little over a year ago. I hit ignore on the screen and power off my phone. I close my eyes to keep the tears from falling, but the door opens and I immediately panic.

  “Cami?” Jett asks as he flips on the light.

  “Yeah?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like crap,” I reply.

  He frowns. “I'm sorry to hear that, but on the bright side, you are alive.”

  “I'd actually welcome death right now,” I murmur to myself. He looks at me with shock on his face.

  “I would have thought you to be much stronger than that,” he says, coming over to sit on the stool beside the bed.

  “I am, really. I'm just… afraid of the person who did this,” I reply, unable to look at him.

  “You don’t need to be, I told you, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Yes, but he came back.”

  “What?!” The rage in his voice is definitive. I know what he’ll do to Ty when he finds him.

  “He came in here last night. He…” I begin to fall apart, my words giving way to sobs.