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I shook her body and tapped her face, her eyes complete closed now.
“We need to get her to the fucking hospital,” Optimus said urgently.
I was just about to lift her into my arms when a group of brothers filled the doorway. Skins pushed his way through the crowd and dropped to his knees beside me. Technically he wasn’t even a prospect yet, but he was slowly proving himself to the club. Some of the brothers were being naturally suspicious given that he was an agent for the FBI just a few months ago until their operation was shut down.
“Where’s she hurt?” he asked, his eyes roaming her body.
“He forced a bag of pills down her throat,” I told him, suddenly remembering that he used to also be an EMT.
“Roll her on her side,” he ordered, and I quickly followed, laying her back on the floor and rolling her toward him. I could feel that her breathing was jerky and unnatural. “Sorry Sugar,” he apologized before prying her mouth open and sticking two fingers down her throat.
I felt her body convulse instantly, and Skins managed to leap out of the way before a wave of vomit hit the floor.
He took a quick look over it before kneeling down carefully again and doing the same thing. “Sorry beautiful,” he said again as he pushed his fingers down her throat and then threw himself backward as more bile and crap came up and onto the floor.
It’s was off-colored, but I could see the pills fizzing away inside the liquid. I tried to count them, wondering how much of it had already seeped into her system.
“Looks like we got quite a few out, but she still needs an Ambulance… like yesterday,” Skins said, pulling his cell from his pocket and looking over at Op.
Op nodded. “Make the call. You and Wrench go with her while we clean up this mess.”
I nodded, picking up Sugar in my arms and racing through the crowd of brothers to the elevator with Skins beside me, rattling off words into his cell that I didn’t understand. All I was focused on was the fact that Sugar was still breathing, and as long as she was, so was I.
