“Deck,” Tyler warned. And it was a warning because I had my hand on the gun beneath my jacket. “Not here, Boss.”
“We’ll look after her. She can leave after a psych evaluation scheduled for tomorrow and after the police have been to question her about the wounds on her back. It’s mandatory after something like this. We’d also like to re-run her blood for precaution.”
I stared at him for several seconds then I glanced over at Georgie, who stood quietly behind Tyler. I didn’t like it. And I sure as hell didn’t like the doctor, but starting a fight in the hospital would cause us problems. Besides, Georgie was better off here for one more night and I did want to hear what she told the police about the fuckin’ cuts on her back.
I nodded to Tyler. Fine, one night.
“When can we pick her up?” Tyler asked.
The nurse gave instructions about discharge to Tyler and I approached Georgie. She was still up against the wall, having not said a word during the whole exchange.
“Tomorrow, you’re coming with me. We need to sort this shit out. Okay?” She nodded and I felt her tremble as I ran my hands down her arms. There it was … in her eyes. The vulnerability and softness that had been hidden for years. Fuck, I wanted to wrap her up in my arms and kiss her so fuckin’ badly. I cleared my throat. “Pass the psych exam, would you?”
She smiled and it was the first time in over ten hours I felt like I could breathe. She grabbed my sleeve before I walked away.
“Deck. I need to tell you …” She stopped, straightened her shoulders and looked around as if searching for someone. Then her eyes dropped to the floor and she looked … scared. Georgie rarely looked scared, and it reminded me of the moment I told her about Connor. “Please, don’t put me in rehab.”
Jesus. Then she said shit like that.
I paused. Blue streaks hung down the side of her face, no makeup, standing against the wall in the light blue hospital gown. Innocent. She was innocent and yet, I knew Georgie. She was a lot more than that. She was stubborn and determined, had an attitude, which was part of her, but for some reason, it was more exaggerated than I thought suited her.
But her looking at me, uncertain, exposed and yet still with confidence … this was the Georgie I knew.
This was who I’d fight to bring back. “I won’t.” I nodded to the right where the doc stood watching me. “Don’t let that guy touch you.” She smiled at that and I tucked her hair away from her face. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest, baby.”
The nurse put her hand on Georgie’s arm and guided her back to her room.I MOANED, MY head rolling side to side as I repeated over and over in my head the word—No. A spider crawled over my skin, but it wasn’t a spider—it was blood droplets. I couldn’t move to push it away as the fear felt as if an oil drum sat on my chest. Oil. The rag. It was choking me.I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t spit it out. The material scratching at the back of my throat making me gag.
My stomach rolled and swirled as the breeze swept across my face—his breath—Scotch. It was him. I had to run¸ but it was foggy. The shed was a long, narrow hallway now and I ran and ran but never moved.
No.
Stop. No more.
The words were in my head and I tried to form them, but the sounds were trapped in my throat. Moans. Strangled moans. Were they from me?
I fell to my knees and sobbed.
The shadow hovered over me. The glint of the knife.
I froze. Terror grabbed hold as I waited for the pain. The fear. The taste of my blood in the air.
I scraped my knees when he knocked me down then dragged me into the maintenance shed with the school’s lawnmower and gardening tools. The door clanged shut, making some of the metal tools hanging on the wall hit one another at the vibration.
I completely lost it.
Struggling against his hold like a shark caught in a net above water, I flailed, hitting him in the teeth with my fist. I even managed to escape and get a few feet from the door before he dove on me and we landed hard on the plank floor, the wind knocked out of me. “I didn’t expect such a fighter.”
He flipped me over and held my hands down above my head, but I still tried to get away. Desperate. Hoping someone would hear my screams, but the shed was far enough away from the main school that few people would ever walk by it.
I didn’t know who he was except that he was a senior. He had sandy-blond hair and a big, crooked nose as if he’d had it broken a few times. Wide features contained a stern, hard look in his eyes as if whatever cries I made would do nothing to change that unsympathetic gaze.