“Slim… she’s lost a lot of blood.”
“You need to fix this one, Doc, or you’ll lose a lot of blood too,” I grunt, making it clear there isn’t an option where she doesn’t live. If it were one of my men, I could accept a loss, occasionally. Still, she isn’t someone I can let go of—even if at this point—I have no idea what will happen to us if she makes it out of this alive.
three
-Brynn-
There’s a dim light in front of me, flickering like it’s about to fade. I focus on it, following it through what seems to be a tunnel. I’m not quite sure, everything seems strange, unfamiliar. An eerie atmosphere, like I’m walking through a fantasy land, or is it straight into hell?
Oh my God, am I fucking dying?
The thought suddenly flashes through my mind, but I still can’t wake up, although I hear voices around me. Voices that are not part of my dream or whatever the fuck this is. But then another sensation kicks in, and it feels like my damn bladder is about to explode. Out of instinct, I try to squeeze my thighs and stop myself before I make a fool of myself, but sharp pain rips through my body. My leg feels like it’s on fire, and my eyes snap wide open. This time, I am out of my fantasy, drawing quick breaths like all the air in the room isn’t enough to bring my body to normal and stop the pain.
A woman in her sixties sits on a chair beside me, and I see her getting up the second I open my eyes.
I don’t know what to take in first, my surroundings or her presence.
“Take it easy. Don’t force yourself and put pressure on that leg,” she says, holding a strange tube connected to a thick plastic bag.
“Who…” That’s pretty much the only thing I get to say because my throat feels tight, like I’ve swallowed a razor blade.
“Save your strength. Your body has been through a lot.” She gestures for me to stay still. “I have to give it to you—you came back way quicker than I would’ve expected. Just in time before I had to use this.” She shifts the tube in her hand, holding it up for me to see—and I recognize it instantly.
Fuck if I’m gonna pee through a tube.
Still, this also reminds me of my verypressingmatter.
“Bathroom,” I mutter, like English isn’t my first language, and I only know a word or two.
“No rush. Easy with that leg—I’ll help you,” the woman says as I look at her, putting everything together. The IV in my arm, the equipment… she’s a nurse. No one else would be handling a catheter.
Then there’s another thing I realize. The room I’m in seems familiar. It’s no hospital, that’s for sure. I’ve been here before. Recently.
My mind is still a little foggy. Okay, not just a little—more than that, enough that the woman’s face slightly distorts every two seconds. They must’ve given me something heavy from the way my limbs feel.
I do recognize the neon lights, though, and the one-person's bed that I’m lying on. There’s also a large desk, next to me, where different medicines and bandages are laid out. There was something else there before... monitors.
Five monitors were there.
Because I realize exactly where I am. This is where I found 404, down in the tunnel beneath Ares’ house.
I can’t dwell on that, not now, with such apressingmatter concerning my… body. I just gesture for the woman to help me up.
I suspected this would be difficult, but it’s more like someone’s stabbing me the second I try to put my foot down.
I almost fall out of bed, but the woman catches me. She’s stronger than she looks, propping a shoulder beneath my arm and helping me up. Good thing the room is so small. It takes only a few steps to get to the door, but then there’s the walk through the lobby until I reach the fucking bathroom. And the hopping on one leg isn’t helping either.
Somehow, I make it there before I ruin my already perfectly ruined cargo pants.
The effort of getting back to bed almost knocks the wind out of me. It doesn’t take long before all the painkillers take effect, and I drift back to sleep. Not before the nurse—Mrs. Holloway, as I come to learn the following day—shows me to a button I can press to call her. It’s a kind of wireless device used by waitstaff, incredibly efficient in my state.
The next few days blur together. The nurse comes in and out, bringing me food and medicine, and helping me move around the room. Still, she won’t indulge me in any kind of conversation except those regarding my medical condition.
I think it’s day five when she brings me crutches. I’m not sure, though. I have lost track of time, and since I don’t have any windows, all I’ve done lately is sleep.
I’ve asked her about Ares a couple of times. No answer.
I haven’t seen him since I was brought here, I know this is his place. He should’ve come by now. Unless... unless he’s pissed with me, which I can’t blame him for. I’m also pissed off with myself. For not fucking killing him.
