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He didn’t reply. I looked over at him and he was unconscious. Oh shit, what was I going to do now? I didn’t know where to take him.
“Mr Rominov, can you hear me?”
Yes, I called him Mr Rominov because I didn’t know his first name, and Mr Sexy Voice or Jerk seemed highly inappropriate right now.
He didn’t make a sound. I tried again, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Mr Rominov?”
Still nothing.
“Hey, wake up!” I shouted, shaking him harder.
No response. The guy was out cold. Shit, what was I supposed to do with him now?I can think of a few things,was the inappropriate comment from my inner devil. I shook my head and completely ignored her. This was not the time to be stupid. I needed to keep it together and figure out what to do.
I huffed as I drove out of the alley frantically trying to weigh up my options.I couldn’t call the cops now, not after I had charged in there like a vengeful siren and smashed two guys over the skull. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go down too well with the police. They didn’t like vigilante’s in the UK. I could end up in real trouble.I didn’t even know Mr Rominov’s full name or anything else about him, so I had no idea where to take him or who to call to come get him.
I thought of the club where we’d first met, but it would be closed now. Anyway, I doubted the guy would want me taking him there, not in the state he was in. Also, it might not be safe. It could be where the black guys kidnapped him from.
The hospital was an option. I could drop the unconscious Russian off at a hospital anonymously and let them deal with him. I didn’t think he had recognised me, he’d been barely conscious while I rescued him, so I might get away with that.
I didn’t know who those guys were or why they had kidnapped him and were beating him up. Maybe he had been a jerk to them too, I thought snarkily, then felt burning shame. That was so unfair. Even if he had been a bit of a jerk to me, he didn’t deserve to be beaten up! Besides, it seemed as if they were trying to get information out of him for something. If that was the case, they could be looking for him again, and the hospital was an obvious place to look. Damn. I couldn’t take him there. No, there was nothing for it but to take him back to my place. I would look after him until he woke up and I could get him proper help.
A short while later, I parked in the driveway at the rear of my home. It was dark and silent. Claire and Marcie had gone away for a Spa break. Thank goodness. I didn’t know how I would explain all this to them. However, as I sat there deliberating how to get the guy out of the van and into the house, I wondered if perhaps I should call them. Maybe Marcie could help.
I took my phone out but hesitated and bit my lip. Marcie worked for the Rominov family occasionally, but as far as I was aware, the relationship was solely of a professional nature. It was unlikely that she would have any way of contacting someone who could help him out with business hours. It was better not to call her. It would only worry her and Claire. They would want to call the police, and after what I had done, I was hoping to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.
No, I would keep to my plan. I would look after Mr Sexy Voice until he woke and told me who to call. With my decision made, I gave him a shake. This time, he roused enough for me to get him out of the car and into the house, but it was a struggle for him to remain awake.
Nevertheless, with a great deal of effort and some stopping to catch our breath, we did our half walk, half carry technique again to get him up the stairs before he fell awkwardly onto my bed and passed out again.
I sighed with relief as I slid to the floor next to him, pulling in great lungfuls of air. Geez, I needed to get to the gym more.
I looked at him sprawled face down on the bed. I’d have to turn him over, get him into a better position and deal with his injuries. I might even have to strip him. I blushed, feeling overwhelmed at the thought.
Ha, at last, we have a man in our bed! My inner devil shouted with glee! My face flamed at my thoughts. Geez, I needed to get a grip on my silliness. All this internal battling between my good and bad sides had to stop. I was acting nuts.
I needed to make the guy comfortable. It was time to act like a grown-up and not some silly little girl. I just rescued a man. I was badass. My chest swelled with pride. My confidence was growing, and I liked how that felt. My inner devil was a part of me that I had kept down for too long. She might be inappropriate at times, but usually, she just encouraged me to embrace my true self and not hide behind my shyness. I had to let her out more and stop reigning her in.
I had done that tonight. I’d pulled my big girl panties on, and it had worked out. There was no reason why I couldn’t keep doing that. All I had to do was believe in myself. Just like Claire and Marcie always said. From now on, I was going to own being an adult. I was going to be more confident, and I was going to become the kind of woman I wanted to be.
I mentally rolled up my sleeves and got to work. I grunted as I pulled the heavy Russian up the bed and then rolled him over so I could assess just how bad his injuries were.
As I already knew, his face was severely bruised and swollen, and his wrists were red and grazed from the rope he’d been tied up with. I hadn’t really had time to notice his front as we escaped after spending too much time ogling his ass. I did now, though. He had a well-defined torso and an obvious six-pack underneath a hell of a lot of blood and bruises and red patches where more bruising was likely to form. There were several gashes, too, probably from the large sovereign-type rings one of the guys had been wearing. Gosh, they looked terrible, but not too deep, thankfully.
I gingerly touched his ribs, and he groaned in pain but didn’t wake up. I bit my lip. What if the guy had internal bleeding or something? I should have taken him to the hospital, I berated myself.
No, maybe not. That would mean the police might be informed, or at the very least, there would be a lot of questions to be answered at the hospital. Questions I didn’t have answers to or didn’t want to give answers to. Besides something about the whole situation made me think that the Russian wouldn’t want either the hospital or the police involved.
However, I needed some other help with this. And then it dawned on me. Derrick! I needed Derrick. Derrick had been in the military for years and had trained as a medic. He would know exactly how to deal with My Sexy Voice’s injuries.
I grabbed the phone, called Derrick, and told him to get over here pronto as his medical experience was required.
“You okay? What the hell’s going on?” he asked, sounding frantic.
“It’s not for me, it’s for a friend, he got himself beaten up,” I told him.
“What? He who?” he asked, louder this time.
“You’ll see when you get here. Please just come,” I pleaded in response.
