Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“IN THE END - MELLEN GI REMIX” BY TOMMEE PROFITT, FLEURIE, MELLEN GI
AERON
We continue to watch Dove long after that Soldier cunt leaves, and I trace the rise and fall of her back almost obsessively, letting it count down time. At least the scum left the light on, I’m not sure I would have coped if he had switched it off and I wasn’t able to watch her.
“She’s still breathing at least,” Jude says quietly, his voice so broken that it tears my already fractured heart into more pieces. We failed her, we couldn’t protect her when she needed us the most and I know that I will never forgive myself for that.
“She’s sustained at least fractured if not broken ribs on her left side, a head wound which more than likely is a concussion, and probably tearing of her vagina,” Tarl says, voice devoid of all emotion, and if I didn’t know him better, I would launch at him right now and beat the shit out of him for being so unfeeling.
But he’s detached himself, separated himself from his emotions in order to get through the horror that we just witnessed.
I can’t blame him; I want to do the same, but I can’t. I have to be here for her fully when she wakes up. And she will fucking wake up. My hands clench into fists in my lap as I continue to sit on the frozen fucking floor and stare at her.
Light and noise suddenly fills the space as the door at the end opens, and I get a glimpse at the room beyond, full of Soldiers partying like this is all a big game to them.
Like the daughter of their leader wasn’t just viciously raped by one of their own.
Although, I guess as it was on Rufus’s orders and it wasn’t anything unusual in the past, why would it bother them?
I grind my teeth when two Soldiers enter, dragging Knox between them. He only looks semi-conscious, his head hanging down, and I can see blood trickling down the side of his face. He looks fucking out of it, and a growl builds inside of my chest the closer he gets to us.
There’s another figure behind him, an older man with round glasses and he looks to be carrying a brown leather bag, the kind you see doctors carry in all the old movies.
“Back up!” one Soldier snarls, and not wanting to be tased again, I do as he says, moving away from the bars at the front of our cage, my hands raised a little to show I’m not a threat. Not yet anyway. Their time will come, we just need to bide ours.
The older man steps forward, taking a key from his pocket, and unlocks the door, letting it swing open and ushering the other two goons inside.
They step in, just far enough to drop Knox in a heap on the cold concrete, then they quickly back away out of our cage and wait on the other side of the bars.
The older man casts a quick glance at Knox, his brows deeply furrowed, then he shuts our door.
Knox lets out a pained groan before rolling over onto his back and my fists clench so tightly that I swear I feel fucking blood from my short nails digging into my palms. His face is a mottle of bloodied bruising, one eye almost entirely swollen shut, and blood dripping from what looks like a broken nose as well as the cut on his head. In short, he’s a fucking mess.
“Be careful, fucking heathens!” Tarl shouts, immediately rushing to Knox’s side, but the two Soldiers just snigger before they start to head back towards the door.
“Come on, Doc,” one says to the older guy. So, he is a doctor. I leave Knox to Tarl and watch the Soldiers, wondering what the good doctor is here for.
“I’m here to see to Lark,” the Doc replies as he gives Knox a final once over.
His voice is gentle yet commanding as he looks at me, his gaze intense, like he’s willing me to understand something.
Then he turns back to the Soldiers. “You go and I’ll be along presently.
” A breath whooshes out of my chest, relief flooding my veins at the thought of Lark finally getting some medical attention.
“We really shouldn’t leave you, Doc. If anything happens, Rufus will have our hides,” the other Soldier says, looking at his friend with a wrinkled brow, then back at Doc.
“What’s a little slip of a girl going to do, hum?
She’s barely conscious, and she knows me.
I’ve tended to her many times.” There’s a tightness to the older man’s features as he says the last part, his lips pursing as though he doesn’t approve of Lark’s treatment.
Perhaps he can be an ally to us. “And I hear Annabelle and her girls are coming tonight, a gift from Rufus for a job well done last night.”
Both of the Soldiers perk up at that, and I’m guessing from their lecherous grins that Annabelle and her girls are ladies of the night here to reward the Soldiers for capturing us.
“Well, just holler if you need anything,” the Soldier answers, turning away and I watch as they both rush down the walkway, their excitement tangible.
The Doc turns to Lark’s cage once the door shuts behind the Soldiers, and I’m sure his shoulders slump a little when he looks at her. He’s quick to walk over and unlock her door with his key, stepping inside and shutting it behind him.
“Lark, poor little bird. What have they done to you this time?” he asks himself, and I watch eagle-eyed as he steps closer to her, immediately going on his knees and with a care that seems out of place in this harsh place.
He gently turns her onto her back, sucking in a harsh breath when he sees how bad she is.
Moisture fills my eyes at the sight of all the bruises on her beautiful face and body.
Her whimper of pain has me rushing to the bars, and it’s then that I realize he didn’t lock the door after they dropped Knox in here. Silently, I pull it open just enough so that I can slip out, crossing the narrow walkway in seconds and reaching for her door.
“I’m trusting you not to do anything stupid, boy,” Doc says, not taking his eyes off Lark as he checks her pulse. “You can’t escape, even through the coal chute with the condition that two of your party are in, and your father is on his way and orders you to stay put.”
My heart skips a beat and I freeze, hovering in front of her door, my brows dipping. “You know my father?”
“I’ve been on the Tailor payroll for years, son, though this is the first time Rufus has allowed me into Soldier HQ.
I always treated her at the house before, though this is the worst I’ve ever seen her.
He doesn’t usually let them get so rough,” he tells me, keeping his eyes on his work and pressing his hands along her ribs, tutting at her cry of pain.
“Two fractured, the rest badly bruised. I’ll give you some pain medication soon, Lark.
” Her eyelids flutter, but aside from the tightness of her features, she doesn’t acknowledge his words.
Grabbing the door and shutting it behind me, I hurry to her side, dropping to my knees, and barely registering the pain as they hit the hard floor. I take her hand in mine, worry making my throat constrict and mouth dry at how cold her fingers are.
“A–Aeron?” Her lips barely move as she forms the word, her own brow wrinkled as the Doc checks the rest of her. She bats her lashes, and although her eyes can barely seem to focus, she looks at me and the agony in her blue depths has my jaw clenching hard enough to crack a fucking tooth.
“I’m here, Dove, and Doc is here too. He’s going to make the pain go away.” I blink furiously, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to fall every time she winces or jerks, knowing that each one means another bruise, another hurt that I didn’t keep her safe from.
“It hurts so bad, Aeron,” she whimpers, her lids fluttering, and fuck, my soul shatters at her strained words. Rage fills me until I have to take several deep breaths just to see straight again.
“I know, baby, but it’ll stop soon, I promise.” I’m a fucking liar and I loathe myself for it, for the traitorous platitudes that spill from my lips.
“I’m going to examine in between your legs now, Lark, okay?” Doc advises her, his voice soothing and gentle.
“O–okay,” she stutters, turning her head towards me as Doc opens her legs.
I don’t miss the slight flinch he gives as he sees the damage, and I have to count backwards from ten to stop myself from storming into the main room, finding that dead man, Dean, and watching the life fade from his eyes after he’s endured the worst pain of his life.
“Hey, Nightingale, I’m here too,” Jude tells her from her other side, and I look up to see him kneeling beside her, holding her other hand as tears track freely down his cheeks.
“J–Jude?” She doesn’t move, her eyelids now tightly screwed up, but her grip gets tighter, and a breath hisses out of her as Doc works between her beautiful thighs.
“I’m going to give you some local anesthetic while I get you stitched up, okay, Lark?” Doc questions, and she nods, making a small sound when he injects her.
“You’re being so brave, my Nightingale,” Jude tells her before he brings his head down to her ear and starts singing “Once Upon a Dream” from Sleeping Beauty.
I can feel the slight shudder as she quietly cries while Jude sings and the Doc works between her legs. I feel so fucking impotent, not at all like the future leader of the Tailors, the richest gang in the Western United States.
“All done, Lark,” Doc informs her, taking out a syringe and small glass bottle.
“Here’s some morphine, just to make you comfortable tonight.
” She doesn’t even wince when he injects her, and I watch as he stores the bottle, and throws the syringe in a small yellow hazard bag along with his latex gloves and several bloody pieces of gauze.
Going back into his leather bag he pulls out a new packet of panties, some leggings, and a tank top, along with a box of what looks like sanitary pads, plus a packet of antibacterial wipes.
“Make sure you keep it as clean as possible and change these regularly. I’ll tell your father that I need to visit every day to check for signs of infection. ”
“O–okay,” she replies, her voice a husk of the rich, sexy tone it usually is.
“Will we get to come in here each day?” Jude asks as Doc gathers all of his other instruments and puts them back in his bag.
“If I can get time without the others present and it looks like we won’t be interrupted then yes,” Doc answers, and some of the tension releases from my tight muscles, leaving me feeling lighter.
Doc then takes out what looks like a packet of ibuprofen, a bottle of water, and some protein bars.
“Take this when the morphine wears off, Lark. I’m not sure when they’re planning on feeding you all, but here’s something to tide you over until tomorrow. ”
“Thank you,” I rasp out, my throat thick at his forethought and kindness. “I’ll make sure my father knows how you helped us.”
He just nods, getting to his feet and looking at us with a deep frown. “I’m sorry, but you two will have to go back to your cell, otherwise, it’ll be my hide on the line.”
I take a deep breath before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, on the only patch that isn’t covered in her blood.
“I’ll see you real soon, okay, Dove?” I whisper, a tear dropping from my nose onto her face.
“Uhhhmmmm,” she mumbles, the morphine clearly working its way through her system.
“Soon, Nightingale. Sweet dreams, my love,” Jude tells her, placing a kiss over mine, and together we let her go. “You don’t have a blanket in that Mary Poppins bag of yours, do you, Doc?” he asks, gesturing to the brown leather bag that Doc has picked up.
“Ah, yes, actually. I’ve a foil one which might help a little. I’ll see if I can get something else for her tomorrow. Rufus wants her punished, not dead.”
He grabs out the folded-up blanket and hands it to me. I give him a smile of appreciation, and then Jude and I unfold it and spread it over our sleeping beauty.
They’ll all pay, Dove. Every last fucking one of them.