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“The condition isn’t uncommon.” He grabs a form and starts filling it out. “I’ll get the imaging tests ordered. In the meantime, I’m going to put you on oxygen, Mr. Bellamy, which will alleviate your shortness of breath and keep you comfortable until we can get the imaging done.”
Comfortable? Is he kidding me? But I don’t have the energy to say it. The adrenaline is wearing off, and I want some drugs. Pronto.
“Pain,” I manage to eke out.
“Can you give him something for the pain?” Savannah asks.
“Of course. I’ll order that and get it administered right away.” He whisks out of the exam room, closing the curtain behind him.
Savannah squeezes my hand tighter, and I muster a weak smile, trying to comfort her. I can't let her know how much pain I’m in. Not when she's already grappling with the guilt of her family doing this to me.
"Hey," I whisper, forcing myself to sound more confident than I am. "I’m fine, all right? I’ve gotten through worse than this.”
My words are a lie, of course. Even Zion and his two minions didn’t get me this badly. I wasn’t tied up then, and I was able to fight back. I fought back and I broke Zion’s jaw.
Savannah nods, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Okay," she chokes out.
A nurse in green scrubs comes in. “I’m going to start your IV, Mr. Bellamy, and then administer the pain medication that Dr. Logan ordered. I’m going to get your oxygen started as well.”
I sigh in relief through the oxygen mask she puts over my nose and mouth.
I breathe in, out, in again, attempting to regulate the pain through breath control.
Yeah, what a crock.
Savannah’s warm hand in mine gives me comfort. The nurse stabs me with a needle to start the IV, but I don’t even feel it.
A moment later, though, I see a river in my mind. A soothing river, and the pain… The pain…
I close my eyes and let it float away on sparkling water.
When I first got here, I measured the time in days.
Ever since Zion’s jaw healed and he’s back to taunting my men and me, I’ve measured it in minutes.
I know, at any minute, he’ll come after me.
And I’ll be ready.
My toothbrush shiv stays with me at all times, hidden in the waistband of my underwear, or under my arm. I’ve learned to move it quickly when I must so it’s not detected.
The moment comes in the cafeteria.
I know it, because I feel the tension thickening in the air, like an electric current that prickles my skin. The shiv is with me, of course. I've spent the last week sharpening the plastic against the rough concrete walls of my cell. It isn't much, but it'll do the job.
Zion sits alone at a table. His lunchmates have left, and he’s still working on his fruit cocktail.
I’ve finished my lunch, and I’ve told my men to leave and get outside for their recreation time.
I don’t want them involved in this. This is between Zion and me.
I’m still sitting when Zion finally rises, takes his tray to the counter, and shoves it on the conveyer back to the kitchen.
He turns, and his gaze meets mine.
It’s time.
I rise, stand tall, showing him the height I have on him. I take a deep breath, steadying myself for what comes next.
