Chapter 22 #2
“Drew, I can’t. She’s hurting.” I glanced over at Sloane, but she was pale and clammy, somewhere in the vicinity of sleep against my window, which only served to worry me further.
“Ayda.” I didn’t have to see him to imagine he was pinching the bridge of his nose as he held the phone to his ear and scrunched his eyes closed. “Do you remember where the safe house is? Where we went after the Emps tried to hurt you and Tate in the house fire?”
I frowned at the phone for a second as I pulled my foot off the gas and coasted onto the hard shoulder toward the gas station just up ahead. “I know the one.”
“Then turn around and go there. Take Sloane. The key to the front door is under the third clay pot on the left. The one painted blue. Lift the wooden porch panel, and you’ll see it.
The two of you can get in. The whole place is safe and secure.
No one will see you or her going in. When I end this call, I’m phoning doc.
He has a nurse…” Drew trailed off, blowing out all the air in his body like it weighed a tonne.
“She’s on our payroll. She goes to the safe house regularly.
Her name is Tracey. She deals with the Hound Whores.
Gives them regular checks. Makes sure they’re clean.
She knows what the fuck she’s talking about.
Sloane won’t need her insurance card. There’ll be no records.
Nothing can ever come back on her if I get Tracey to check her out and diagnose her. You hear me?”
“I hear you. I’m headed that way now. Thank you for this. I’m not sure what she didn’t tell us, but this isn’t good. She’s pale and clammy.” I gazed over at Sloane as I stopped just inside the turn in to the gas station.
“Has she vomited?”
I glanced at Sloane’s face again. Her legs were pulled up against her chest, and she was still pale, but there was no telltale hint of green in her pallor or on her lips.
“I don’t think so, and she doesn’t look like she’s headed in that direction.
The way she described the problem, it’s internal pain. ”
“So, it isn’t just shock then,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A lot of chicks tend to do that when they…” He trailed off again. “Never mind. Just get her to the safe house. I’ll have Doc and Tracey meet you. Trust them, Ayda. They’re good.”
I remembered that from after the nightmare in the warehouse, but now was not the time to bring that up.
“I trust you, and you trust them. That’s good enough for me. I’ll call you as soon as I know something, okay?” I pulled out of the gas station slowly and started back the way I’d come.
“Be safe, darlin’,” he whispered to me.
“I will. Love you.”
I didn’t wait for a response, and he probably didn’t give me one. We just disconnected so we could do what we needed to do in order to get Sloane looked at.
I drove as fast as I could without drawing attention to myself, and though I knew the general direction of the safe house.
I missed the turnoff twice before finally finding my way and easing the truck down the rough road as gently as I could so Sloane could continue to sleep while that was possible.
I’d woken her only briefly to explain the plan to her, and she’d thanked me before curling up in the big leather seat like an injured kitten.
When I pulled up at the house, I found the key and unlocked the door before helping Sloane from the truck and guiding her inside. She barely said a word, just grunted in agony occasionally when the pain became a little too much.
The place didn’t look much different than it had the first time I’d been here.
Someone had fixed the kitchen, the furniture had been updated a little, and some of the cobwebs had been removed, but otherwise, the safe house was the same.
Function over form. The place was there for a reason, to do a job, and today was just another day for these four walls to do what they did best.
Doc and Tracey didn’t take long to show up.
The two of them arrived within minutes of one another, and they immediately went into action to fulfill their roles.
Tracey helped Sloane to one of the bedrooms with an arm around her waist and left Doc and me in the living room, while I paced the floor as the Doc explained what was going to happen next.
If everything went according to plan, he wouldn’t be needed at all, but having seen how pale Sloane had been as Tracey walked her away, I wasn’t sure that would be the case, even in the better scenarios.
I felt useless, and guilty—a futile emotion when there was nothing I could have done to stop this from happening.
I was angry with myself for not insisting she see a doctor when all of this had gone down, but then, how was I supposed to know?
“Should I go and hold her hand or something?” I asked, spinning as I walked a rut into the cheap rug covering the hardwood floor.
“If you think that would help,” Doc said calmly, his voice that even rumble always paired with being absolutely certain of his part in this mess. “But Tracey is good at what she does. She may even manage to get more of an explanation from her while they’re alone.”
I nodded, wringing my hands in front of me as I moved. I wanted Sloane to be comfortable. I wanted her to feel safe, but if Doc was confident that Tracey would offer that, what could I do in that room other than complicate things further?
“I’ll go in if she calls for me,” I clarified to no one in particular and continued my endless path between the front door and the kitchen.
The examination felt as though it was taking forever, and as the afternoon started to dim and the sun slipped toward the horizon, real panic began to rise inside of me.
I almost bolted down the hall when the door to the room opened, but Tracey called for the doctor in her calm, professional voice, and he left me alone in the room for another half hour before he rejoined me with a small smile and his hands raised in reassurance.
“She’s fine. I just needed to check a couple of things and write a prescription, but otherwise, her injuries are nothing too serious.”
“So, what happened?” I demanded. My hands were flouncing in front of me in panic, and my eyes tried to read every nuance on his face. That proved useless. Staring at the statue of The Thinker and trying to figure out what he was thinking about would have been more fruitful.
“I got inside the room after the talking had been done, Miss Hanagan. I’m afraid if you want the details you’re going to have to talk to Tracey. What I can tell you is that once the antibiotics take care of the infection there should be no lingering effects in the future.”
“Infection?” I asked sharply, concern cutting through any formal politeness that should have been there.
Tracey chose that moment to appear, slipping out of the room and closing the door gently behind her.
I didn’t have to ask her to explain. The second I opened my mouth, she raised her hands to stop me and offered a small, sad smile.
I’d seen too many of those in the last couple of days; it felt foreboding.
“Sloane asked me to share what she told me with you. She said you’d be worrying about her, and the painkillers will probably help her sleep and knock her out for a little while. ”
“Okay,” I said, dropping my ass to the coffee table and looking up at her expectantly.
Tracey had one of those faces that instantly made you feel comfortable.
It was heart-shaped and gentle, her eyes a deep blue that said you could tell her anything.
The result of that combination was almost unnerving, but also reassuring.
“Sloane was violated a little more roughly than I think even Sloane first realized. The guy who did this managed to penetrate her with his fingers, and was either exceptionally rough or tried to keep her from escaping with the, uh… the only hold he had on her.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“That was pretty much my reaction,” Tracey said, shaking her head in disgust. “Drew asked me to attempt to get a name from Sloane if she happened to open up to me, but she shut down the moment I tried. Whoever did this to her either has something over her or has threatened her in some way that has her scared to death.”
“So what are we looking at here?”
“Her vaginal walls were scratched, and that would have been painful on its own, but manageable. One of those scratches started to get an infection, though, and that made it ten times worse for her in a very uncomfortable place. They weren’t very deep, so we were able to treat them, and the meds will chase away the infection completely.
If there’s a problem, you’re the one she’s going to come to.
Just give Doc or me a call and we’ll meet you here. ”
I nodded in confirmation, my stomach churning violently.
The drive inside me to find this sick bastard was almost a hunger in my gut now, a kindling that had a slow drip of fuel adding to the flame.
I couldn’t believe the extent this asshole had gone to, and not just to hurt her, but in an attempt to take things further and take what he really wanted from her.
Just the thought of how violent and sick this asshole was made my stomach roll in disgust. Not one man in the club was going to take this lightly once they found out about how far this had actually gone.