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Before getting up, he grabbed Kyle by the throat. “Where the fuck are the keys?” Kyle didn’t put up a fight. He was out cold, which made Derrick even more upset with himself. He looked up and noticed a pair of pants on a chair in the corner and went to check the pockets. There wasn’t really anywhere else they could be.
Grabbing the keys from the pocket, he threw the pants down and went straight to the wall where Samantha was secured. “Oh, my sweetheart.” He gently brought down her arm after releasing her from her chains, drawing a moan from her mouth. He didn’t want to turn her over until one of the doctors approved it. Hell, if the four surgeons couldn’t help, what the fuck good were they?
Derrick didn’t want to make things worse for her, so he turned to one of the men who had entered the room. “Go to the car and get the men who came with me. Tell them we need Ian. Haul ass, and don’t come back without them, and get an ambulance here now!” He felt more helpless than he had in his life, including when he lost his sister. He reached up and pulled off the T-shirt he was wearing, laying it across her naked body. He would be dammed if he would let the other men see her this way, even if they were just there to help.
“An ambulance is on the way, sir,” he responded without moving.
“What part of go get them was in any way unclear to you? Get the fuck out of here and bring them back, now!” Derrick was dangerously close to losing his shit. Knowing it wouldn’t help Samantha didn’t seem to matter in this moment. He sat beside her, stroking her hair while she moaned.
He turned his attention toward the asshat all of his rage was centered on. The only thing keeping him from standing and walking over to him to continue the beatdown was the beautiful redhead lying hurt beside him. He didn’t even realize he had started to cry until he felt a tear hit his hand. “Samantha, I need you to hold on. I love you, and I’m here for you. Please just hold on. I won’t make it without you.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, and she whimpered in return.
It felt like forever before the men raced in, Ian leading the way. “What the fuck?” he mumbled as he stepped up to them.
“I didn’t turn her over. Please tell me it’s safe. I need to see her.”
Ian grasped his shoulder. “Derrick, I need you to step away and give us some room to work.”
“Like hell will I leave her, and I dare one of you to try to move me.” This was his woman, and nobody would keep him away from her.
“I get it, but you need to give us room to work. Right now, you’re just hindering our taking care of her, is that what you want?” Leave it to Matthew to be the voice of reason.Asshole.
“Matthew, what if it was Lainie? Would you be able to walk away? I don’t fucking think so.” He probably sounded like a child but couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Dude, I’ve been there, remember? Now move the fuck back. Nobody is telling you that you have to leave your woman, but you need to step back right fucking now, or I swear I will get these guys to remove you from the room.” This wasn’t his friend Matthew. This was Dr. Taylor in the room. No wonder people did what he wanted at the hospital.
He stood and stepped back while his friends helped his woman in a way he couldn’t. Kyle was starting to stir, so he walked past the agent holding him in place and reared back then punched him in the head several times in quick succession until he passed back out. If the fucker had any instincts of self-preservation, he wouldn’t move again. Otherwise, Derrick wouldn’t be held responsible for what he might do.
The four men secured her neck, turned her on her back, and re-covered her with his shirt. What he saw broke his heart. His beautiful Samantha looked like she had done fifteen rounds with Muhammad Ali. There wasn’t a place on her face that wasn’t discolored by various hues of bruising. Her eyes were swollen shut, her normally luscious lips twice their normal size. His gaze drifted down to her neck and what he saw made him want to wake up Kyle so he could fucking beat the fucking shit out of him again. Her neck was covered in bruising in the shape of fingerprints.
“Derrick, I am going to need to see what is going on. That means I’m going to move your shirt. I will treat her with respect, but it needs to be done.”
Derrick growled but nodded. If he could trust anyone with her welfare, it would be these four men. They systematically assessed her from head to toe. Her eyes opened, and she gulped a sharp intake of air when Ian pushed down on her abdomen.
Derrick rushed over, putting his body into the space Ian had left. “Sweetheart, I’m here.” He took her right hand in his before bringing it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on her bloodied knuckles. Tears ran down her face.
Derrick felt as if his guts were being ripped out as he saw the pain on her face while Ian continued to assess her injuries. He wasn’t sure which worried him more, the fact she still hadn’t spoken to him, or her as Ian worked. One meant she was in a great deal of emotional pain, the other too much physical pain. Neither of these were options he could live with.
He didn’t know what Ian did, but all of a sudden, she lurched forward and screamed before falling back down. He was barely able to get his hand under her head to keep it from hitting the concrete floor. “What the fuck, Ian?”
“We need to get her to Midtown now. Where in the hell are the EMTs? She needs an OR as soon as we can get her there.” Ian didn’t beat around the bush, and he was never one for exaggeration, so Derrick knew he meant business.
“Call them again,” he said to the agent standing in the doorway to the cell.
“No need, sir. They’re here, just making their way down to us as we speak.” Derrick hadn’t worked with this one, and he couldn’t even remember his name.
“Dude, these tunnels are the worst,” He heard a voice he didn’t recognize from up the hall.
“Down here,” the agent called then showed them into the cramped space.
“You all are going to have to clear out so we can assess this woman and see what she needs.” The little shit was trying to assert some authority, which, during any other circumstance, would have been funny but not today.
Before he had a chance to respond to the little shit, Ian stood. “Listen here. I am Dr. Ian Spaulding, trauma surgeon from Midtown Hospital. If you want to keep your jobs, and—judging by the look on my friend’s face—your lives intact, you will listen and follow directions. I have assessed her. Get her on the goddamn gurney and let’s get her the fuck to Midtown while we have a chance of saving her life. I will ride in the back with her. Do you have any questions, or can we get the fucking show on the road?” The EMTs were practically shaking in their uniform boots.
“Yes, sir. Got it.” They moved the gurney next to Samantha’s prone body.
“I can’t lose her. She is everything to me,” he whispered, surprised to hear his own voice. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
“Trust us, Derrick. We’ve got her, let us do what we do best.” Matthew threw his arm around Derrick’s shoulders, easing him back so the others could lift Samantha to the stretcher for transport.
