Chapter 11 Grace #2
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat as I take his hand. He helps me inside, seeming reluctant to let go of my palm.
He slams the doors shut, leaving Saffron and me in the dark.
Red 7 settles into the driver's seat as I curl my body around Saffron’s, keeping her stable for the drive and offering her as much comfort as I can.
As we drive, I run my fingers through her hair, listening for the sounds of her breath, counting her heartbeats to make sure she doesn’t miss a single one.
I’m so entranced by my task, I don’t realize we’ve made it to the hospital until Red 7 yanks open the back doors, spilling light into the darkened trunk of the van.
“ER staff are on the way with a stretcher.”
I squint up at the masked killer, unsure whether I should thank him or curse him. “You helped us. Why?”
He doesn’t answer. “They’ll be out in a few moments. I can’t stay much longer.”
“Okay…” I look over his shoulder as the ER doors slide open and a team of medical staff rushes through, their eyes trained on Saffron and me. “Where are you—?”
But he’s already gone. The engine roars as the medical team loads Saffron onto the stretcher, too preoccupied with the patient to give the masked man in the driver's seat any attention.
“Time to go, Grace.” He turns his head, seeming to stare directly into my soul. “I’ll come for you later.”
With a shudder, I scurry out onto the concrete.
Whipping around, my hands grip the steel of the doors, but before I slam them closed, I catch a sight of something that makes my entire body freeze.
The lower half of Red 7’s face is exposed, the mask pulled up to reveal a steel-cut jaw and a full, kissable mouth. And he’s smiling at me.
Heat coils low in my stomach as I slam the doors closed, shivering as the image of that evil smile is seared into my mind. The wheels of the van screech against the pavement as Red 7 speeds off. I stand there frozen for a few moments, watching the taillights disappear around the corner.
I shake myself out of the strange trance and turn around, watching as the medical team prepares to wheel Saffron off for surgery.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
It takes me a while to register that the nurse with the kind brown eyes is speaking to me. For the first time, I gaze down at the dark-red color staining my arms and clothes. No wonder she asked.
“I’m fine. It’s hers.” My voice cracks heavily on the last word, and the nurse’s face pinches with sympathy. “Please. You have to save her.”
“We’ll do the best we can.” She turns to grab the edge of Saffron’s stretcher. Several others do the same, and the stretcher is in motion, barreling through the ER doors and down a long, brightly lit hallway.
I run to catch up, but am stopped by one of the techs.
“You can’t go back with her, ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“But—”
“I’ll send someone out to update you.” She shoves a slender finger in the direction of the waiting room, her expression leaving no room for argument. “You want to help her? Let us do our jobs.”
Defeated and filled with gut-wrenching worry, I shuffle toward the waiting room. I pick a chair in the far corner near the television, hoping the mindless sounds from the speakers will help distract me while I wait for an update.
I’m there for a few hours before someone dressed in a pair of faded blue scrubs comes out to check on me. I scan the woman’s expression, searching for any sign that she’s about to give me bad news. Instead, she smiles warmly and takes a seat in the unoccupied chair at my side.
“Saffron did well in surgery. We were able to stop the bleeding.”
A great weight sloughs off my shoulders at her words, and I sob in relief. “She’s okay?”
“She lost a lot of blood, and we want to monitor her for a few days to watch for infection, but, yes. She will be.” Her mouth presses into a thin line. “At least physically. I’ve arranged for her to see one of our psychiatrists once she’s well enough to do so.”
My throat feels like sandpaper as I swallow. “I think that’s smart, considering… Can I see her?”
“Of course.”
She leads her to the back room, and as soon as I spot Saffron, I race over to her bedside, my hand trembling as I reach out for hers.
“Hey, beautiful,” I whisper.
Saffron chuckles weakly. “Don’t think anyone will be able to call me that again after what that bastard did to me.”
My stomach roils, but I hold it down. “Don’t say that. You’re as beautiful as you were yesterday. You still have the same heart, the same spirit. Nothing has changed, Saffron.”
She gazes up at the ceiling, moisture welling in her left eye. Saffron blinks, and a single tear slides down her swollen, bruised cheek, landing softly on the pillowcase. Another takes its place, but before it can fall, I reach out and gently swipe it away.
Saffron turns her head, looking deep into my eyes. “Thank you for coming to get me. I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t—”
“Don’t think about that.” I move my hand up to brush her sweat-slicked hair off her forehead. “I will always come get you. No matter what hour, no matter what reason.”
The corners of her mouth lift in a barely-there smile, and some of the weight on my shoulders lessens. “You’re a good person, Grace.”
And it’s going to get me killed one day. “How do you feel? Pain-wise?”
“Oh, the drugs here are great. I don’t feel a thing.
” She reaches up, but stops short of the bandages with a small cringe.
“Maybe a little too great. I keep forgetting, then I have to relive what happened all over again.” She shudders, her one exposed eye shutting tight.
“I thought I was going to die, Grace. I was—I was so scared…”
“Shh. I’m here.” I kneel at the side of the bed and rest my hand gently on top of hers, careful not to disturb the tubing. “You’re safe.”
She relaxes back against her pillow, her breathing evening out. “It’s easier to remind myself that when you’re with me.” Turning her head slightly, she fixes me with a curious stare. “How did you manage to get me to the hospital, by the way?”
My breath freezes in my lungs. “Why do you ask?”
Her shoulders rise in a small shrug. “It’s just the one thing I can’t remember.” She lets out a huff of air. “I guess it doesn’t matter, does it?”
I roll my lips, suddenly unable to meet her eye. “I heard a car approaching, so I ran into the road and flagged them down. For some reason, they helped.” Not a lie, but not the full truth, either.
“Someone stopped to help?” Her eyes widen, and she shifts like she’s going to attempt to sit up. “Are they here? I’d like to thank them.”
“No! I mean… they left already.”
“Oh.” She frowns, deflating. “Did you catch their name?”
“I think it was Richard something? I was too preoccupied to really pay attention.” Now, I’m outright lying to her—but it’s for her own good. At least, that’s what I convince myself. “Are you sure you want to talk about this now? You must be exhausted.”
“I can’t not talk about it.” She drops her gaze to where her thumbnail is digging into her cuticle. “Because I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I lean in closer, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you know the person who did it?”
She nods, taking her lip between her teeth as a fresh round of tears wells in her eyes.
“Gregory Wright. We’d been out on a date once before, and everything was fine, so I agreed to meet him a second time.
Dinner and a movie—that’s what he said. But at some point, I guess someone told him what I do for a living and…
he thought I deserved this.” She gestures to her bandaged face.
“On the way to the restaurant, he pulled over and threatened me with a knife—saying I deserved what I was getting because I work at the Orchid Lounge.”
Her lip curls in disgust as she recalls the memory.
“I got the bastard good, though—nearly bit his nasty dick clean off. When he realized I was going down fighting, he stabbed me, cut me up, and left me in the bushes to die.” She lets out a shaky breath disguised as a laugh.
“I guess he was in a hurry to get his dick fixed, so he didn’t bother searching me for my phone.
It was the only thing that kept me alive. ”
Before Saffron can continue, a sullen-faced nurse enters the room with a small cart filled with medication. “How is the pain, Ms. Barker?” she asks, standing at the side of her bed and pulling out a clipboard. “Any changes since last time?”
“It’s a little worse,” Saffron admits with a wince. “Actually, a lot worse…”
The nurse nods, reaching into her cart and pulling out a clear glass vial and syringe. She fills it with the substance and injects it into one of the IV ports, her movements quick and efficient. “That should help. You’ll probably feel sleepy in a few minutes—it’s all normal.”
“Thank you,” Saffron whispers.
The nurse checks Saffron’s vitals, seemingly satisfied with the results. As she packs her equipment away, she turns to me with sympathetic eyes. “Visiting hours are almost over, dear. You’ll need to head out soon.”
My heart squeezes. I don’t want to leave her. “Can’t you make an exception? She might need me…”
She shakes her head, her expression leaving no room for argument.
“You can come back in the morning. Plus…” She gestures to Saffron, her eyelids half closed as sleep pulls her under.
“With the dose I gave her, she’ll sleep straight through the night.
Your friend is safe here. You don’t have to worry. ”
“Okay.” I give Saffron’s hand one last gentle squeeze before standing. “I’ll be back in the morning, babe.”
“Shnfuthuwurr.”
“Um…” I gaze at the nurse with alarm, but she waves me off.
“It’s the meds. She’ll be fast asleep in a few moments.”
Sure enough, when I turn my attention back to Saffron, she’s snoring softly, her features relaxed in slumber. Though I don’t want to, I heed the nurse’s orders and leave, my steps heavy as I make my way outside the hospital.
As soon as the chill night air hits me, I’m struck with a wave of emotion, one too heavy for me to carry with all the other shit that’s been going on. With a shiver, I wrap my arms around my torso, fingers pinching the soft cotton shirt Red 7 gifted me.
“Shit.” I gaze out into the shadowed streets surrounding the hospital. There’s no way I’m walking home alone at this hour, so I’ll have to suck it up and wait the thirty minutes it takes for a cab to get here.
I wish Red 7 were around.
Jolting, I shake off that last thought, horrified that I would even think something so vile. Red 7 is not my savior. He’s a psychopathic killer in a bloodred mask who wants to break me. I need to remember that.
With a sigh, I pull out my phone and put in the request for a car.
Surprisingly, I only have to wait twenty minutes before someone accepts the ride—far less than I was expecting.
The stranger drives me to my apartment in silence, with his only words being “thank you” and “have a nice night,” when I add a tip in the app.
Not wanting to spend another second out in the cold, I race up the stairs of my apartment and into the bathroom, desperate for a shower so I can wash off the blood and grime from tonight.
When I finally tuck myself into bed, not an ounce of me wants to go to sleep.
My brain is wired, running tonight’s events on replay, wondering if I could have done more.
I stare up at the ceiling, trying and failing to fight off a wave of tears.
They slide down my cheeks as my chest wracks with silent sobs, and I lose myself in my misery.
Finally allowing myself to feel some of the anger, sadness, and helplessness I had to push down.
“You look so pretty when you cry.”
I scream, bolting upright in bed as a gloved hand claps over my mouth, silencing my cries as soon as they enter the air.
Red 7. He kept his promise.