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My heart stops beating at the sight in front of me. Rage and fear like I’ve never experienced rushes through me as Bill has his hands wrapped around Torryn’s throat in front of the door that leads to the back way to get to the ice.
I’m moving across the room, before I have a chance to even process what I’m seeing or what I’m going to do. All I know is I can see Torryn struggling to breathe as a man towers over her, choking the life out of her as he grins maniacally.
My fist connects to his temple where I already see blood dripping. His grip on Torryn loosens and she falls to the ground, gasping for breath and he turns to face me, his eyes glazed. Torryn has already fucked his face up, but somehow this fucker is still on his feet. He turns to lunge at me, but his steps wobble—no doubt feeling the effects of multiple hits to the head. I pullmy fist back, landing another punch square across his jaw. This time he stumbles back, hitting the floor with his eyes closed.
“Torryn,” I whisper, dropping to my knees as I cradle her into my arms. Bruises are already beginning to mottle the sensitive skin on her neck. The entire thing will no doubt be black and blue by tomorrow. Tears fill her eyes as her body shakes as she lets me hold her. She opens her mouth to say something but I shake my head. “Don’t talk.” Tears gather in my own eyes at the sight of her pain and confusion. She looks years younger suddenly. Nothing like the girl she normally is. “We don’t know how badly he hurt you. Don’t make it worse.”
She nods but even that small movement seems to send pain radiating through her, her eyelids flutter and start to close. “You can’t fall asleep, baby. You gotta stay with me.”
Xander and Tate curse behind me as they walk into the room. Tate already has his phone pressed to his ear, making a police report. Xander pulls out his own phone to make his call, probably to everyone else looking for her.
The two of them stand guard in between us and Torryn’s stalker. Just in case he wakes up. I want to get her out of this room, but a part of me is scared to move her. When aren’t you supposed to move someone? When you’re worried about their head? Or is it just their neck?
Fuck.
I’ve already picked her up in my arms. Maybe it would be okay. “I’m going to take her to the locker room.” My voice sounds hoarse, but when neither of the guys argue, I carry Torryn back through the laundry room and into our locker room. At least here I can sit on the bench and hold her to me until the cops and EMTs get here.
“You’re going to be okay,” I promise her, my whole body shaking with the need for it to be true. Her right eye is swelling and her lower lip is puffy and bleeding. I wipe a droplet of bloodfrom her forehead and see a small cut just under her hairline as well. There’s more blood in her hair, but I don’t think it’s hers. I can’t find any other cuts and neither of the two I did find can explain the amount in her hair.
The corner of her lips twist up in what I’m sure she intends to be a reassuring smile, but the way I can see it drains her, the rapidly growing heaviness in her eyes, it just sets me even more on edge. “I’m so fucking sorry, Ryn. I should have been there to protect you.”
“Sh.” It’s such a small sound, but fuck it nearly guts me. I nod, holding her closer to me even as I try to be as gentle as possible, not knowing where else she might be hurting.
Isla is the first to find us in the locker room, Emery and a man I don’t know behind her. I almost turn away from him before I notice the bag he’s carrying and realize he’s an EMT. He can help Torryn more than anyone else can.
He sets his stuff down next to us and introduces himself, but I barely even hear him. My entire focus is on monitoring Torryn and making sure she’s okay with this guy in her space. Even if he’s the one who can help her, she needs to feel safe too.
“Alright, I’m going to quickly look you over, Miss Gray, and then my partner is going to come in here with a stretcher so we can get you loaded up into the ambulance and get you to the hospital. Is that okay?”
Torryn looks up at me, a question in her eyes as her hand lifts to touch her neck.
“Is it okay for her to talk? He had his hand wrapped around her throat really hard.”
He nods in understanding, and asks Torryn if it’s okay to touch her. I like that he asks and is moving slowly, it seems to ease Torryn’s mind as well. After he examines her neck, he asks her to swallow. When she’s able to do so with only a littlediscomfort he tells her it’s okay to speak, but not to overuse her voice until she can be further examined at the hospital.
After that, the rest of his examination goes pretty quickly. Her voice is husky with a much rougher quality than it normally has, but he assures both of us it’s to be expected after strangulation and often a full recovery is possible.
More people join us in the locker room and by the time the stretcher is brought in, I think there are more people in here than there are during game days. Some of the officers from the last couple of scenes linger by the door, restricting who else can come in, but they had no luck trying to get anyone to leave. Everyone wanted to be here to make sure Torryn was going to be okay.
The paramedics do a good job at keeping the officers at bay as well, shutting them down when they try to get a statement from her. Officer Derek gets there and soothes the ruffled feathers, promising he’ll follow us to the hospital and get both of our statements while the others focus on the rest of the group left here.
As they load Torryn up, I have to let go of her and the loss of her in my arms makes my entire body feel hollow. I haven’t even begun to get over the fear of losing her. As soon as she’s settled on the stretcher, her hand lifts, reaching for me. I’m by her side, holding her hand in mine as they begin to walk out of the room.
The paramedic that first came in, I’m starting to feel bad I didn’t pay attention to his name, opens his mouth to say something to me, but I don’t want to hear that I can’t come. “I’m staying with her,” I insist. “I’m her boyfriend,” I add in a rush, worried they’re not going to allow me to stay with them.
Even after everything she’s experienced, she gives me her signature eyebrow lift with her little smirk. She won’t let that one go, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“That is not what we discussed,” Beau protests. That fucking idiot. At least Wells and James have me covered, smacking him and covering his mouth simultaneously.
The paramedic chuckles. “Right, Casanova. You can ride with us, but the rest will have to meet you there.” His dry tone makes Torryn smile and I really should learn the guy’s name. “We’re heading to Westbrook Medical.”
Tate nods that he heard and that he’ll get the rest of the crew there. As they wheel Torryn out of the room, I hear Beau mumble, “We had a plan and it wasn’t that.” Torryn gives me a curious look and I swear the next time Beau has a crush, I’m making it my mission in life to embarrass him.
Torryn has been poked, prodded, scanned, had photos taken, her nails clipped and the evidence bagged. She has a concussion, but neither of her cuts need stitches, and her vocal cords won’t have lasting damage. She has orders to take it easy, something I know she has no idea how to do, and to rest her voice. They expect her voice to sound back to normal within a few days.
The bruising has gotten worse, and her right eye is almost swollen shut by the time the doctors finally tell her she’ll spend the night here tonight for observation because of the concussion. She started to protest, but I shut it down. If she goes home, there’s no doubt in mind she’ll try to do something crazy like email her professors about upcoming finals.
Once we’re alone in the room, I move my chair closer to her side and hold her hand with both of mine. “You good?”
