| |
The steady beep penetrated the darkness, and Austin blinked slowly, letting the shaded light into his reality. The tiled floor came into view, and he stared, groggy and disoriented. Shifting his body sent a river of discomfort over his back, but it was dull and removed from the acute pain he had felt earlier.
“Paige?” His rough whisper overrode the beeping.
When no answer came, the beeping sped up along with the pounding in his chest. The sudden introduction of panic in his blood wiped the grogginess out of his mind, and the fact he was lying face down on something akin to a massage table entered his thought process.
The shuffle of feet turned his attention to his right, and when white shoes appeared at the edge of his vision, his heart clenched. Hospital. Shit.
“Mr. Anderson, are you awake?”
Confusion clouded his mind, and his gaze darted around looking for the person the shoes were addressing. Austin picked up his head and turned it towards the voice after doing a quick scan of the machines in front of him.
“Where’s my girlfriend?” he asked, his voice tentative with all the doubts shuffling through his head.
The nurse smiled. “She said she needed to run an errand and hoped to be back before you woke.”
His gaze jumped past the nurse, towards the doorway and the hustling hospital staff beyond, before it returned to hers.
“Mr. Anderson, do you know where you are?”
The fact she called him the wrong name registered in his brain, and his brow creased in confusion. A voice in the back of his mind kept his tongue from correcting her.
“You’re in the hospital, and you’ve had close to two hundred stitches in your back. You lost enough blood that you needed a blood transfusion. Now you have an I.V. line to make sure you are hydrated, and your next dose of pain medicine will be administered in another hour,” she explained.“Do you have any questions?”
He attempted to push himself up, but he only succeeded in propping himself up on his elbows before the pain sliced through the fog in his mind. Wincing, he glanced around to get a feel for where he was. It wasn’t a private room. Only curtain walls separated him from the next emergency room patient. He gave the nurse a slow shake of his head. While over a dozen questions circled in his mind, he wasn’t sure right now was the time to ask any of them.
“When my girlfriend gets back, can you please make sure they let her in?”
“Certainly, Mr. Anderson.” She made a note on the file and sent a smile in his direction.
“Um, do you know where my phone is?” he asked before she turned away.
“I’m sorry. I don’t. Your girlfriend left your suitcase on the chair.” She waved towards the far corner of the makeshift room. “Would you like me to look through it?”
Austin turned his head to the side and stared at their suitcase, wondering where Paige would have packed it. Exhaustion claimed his muscles, and he shook his head, settling back into the bed.
“It’s not an emergency,” he muttered. The floor blurred and then faded as he slipped back into sleep.
“Please don’t make me do this,” he pleaded.
“She whipped you to shreds and you want to take pity on her?”
“You did this to me,” Austin growled through clenched teeth, glaring at the man standing next to him. His hand tightened around the thick horn, and the man’s evil chuckle resonated on the darkness.
“Are you sure about that?”
He stepped to the side and waved his hand, revealing Paige standing behind Austin, whipping him. Every time the lashes hit his back, blood splatters flew into the air. Each biting connection of leather to skin arched his back and clenched his eyes with a grunt of pain. And she smiled an insane grin with each spray of blood.
The vision faded and Austin looked at her bound form. An unjust anger filled him, and he stepped forward, positioning the horn with the intent to do as much damage as humanly possible.
Austin gasped. His eyes flew open to the darkened room, and he forced himself to his knees, panting as pain and anguish shuffled through his skin. The heart monitor danced a quick tune, and he forced himself to breathe. Drawing a breath hurt and he let out a gruff groan as cool air caressed his ass. The open johnny hung from his front, and blankets piled on his feet.
The curtain behind him rattled as it opened, and he twisted to take a glance over his shoulder.
“It looks like you are ready for some more medicine,” the nurse who had spoken to him earlier said.
“I would rather not,” he said and pulled the blanket high enough to hide his bare butt. The nurse met his gaze with a barely concealed smirk.
“You don’t have to worry. I’ve seen a bare ass before.”
Austin let a small huff of a laugh escape, and he sighed. “If you have Tylenol, I’ll take that, but I really don’t want anything stronger right now.”
She stepped next to him and held his wrist, checking his pulse despite the heart monitor. Then she checked his blood pressure and jotted numbers down on his chart. He remained kneeling on the mattress, unsure of how to get himself into a comfortable position.
“How long have I been out?” he asked and wiped the sleep from his eyes.
She looked at her watch. “A little over two hours.”
His gaze bounced to the chair and the suitcase that still remained.
“My girlfriend hasn’t come back?” Fear gripped him, dulling every other sensation.
“Not that I am aware of,” she said, eying him closely. “The police have been waiting to speak with you as well.”
He swallowed hard. “Can you check the waiting room for my girlfriend?”
“Sure. Can I send the police in?”
Austin tried to shift and winced.
“Would you like some help?” She stepped closer, but he put his hand up to stop her.
“I can do it,” he said through clenched teeth.
He succeeded in shifting to his side, but his breath had turned into a ragged pant of pain. The back of the bed slowly rose, and he glanced at the nurse with a nod of thanks. The last shift pulled a grunt from his chest, and he slowly eased back against the inclined mattress. The pressure brought the sting of tears to his eyes, and he pressed them closed, counting until his breath came to some semblance of normal.
Sheets shifted and his eyes opened as the nurse pulled the fabric over him, covering him.
“Are you sure I can’t give you something stronger than Tylenol?” she asked.
“I would rather not,” he whispered.
She gave him a nod and left the room. No sooner had she stepped out of sight than two New York City officers stepped into the room.
“Mr. Anderson,” the dark skinned cop asked as he looked at the tablet in his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Austin said, and the lie tasted bitter on his tongue.
“Can you tell us who did this to you?”
Austin’s gaze landed on the foot of the bed as he considered his words very carefully. If he told them the ghost of a dead man possessed another and whipped him to shreds, he’d end up in the mental ward. He slowly shook his head.
“It was dark, but you might be able to find some evidence of what happened,” he said and looked up. “Third floor special exhibition room of the Museum of Natural History. I was handcuffed to a bench and beaten to shit. If he didn’t cover his tracks, the whip should still be there with my blood on it.”
They exchanged a glance.
“Are you sure your girlfriend didn’t do this to you?”
Austin chuckled under his breath and nodded. “The crazy fuck that did this looked Italian. Dark curly hair, green eyes. He had maybe an inch or two on me in height. Our first encounter with him was at Starbucks across from Cornell this morning, and he freaked my girlfriend out.”
The nurse stepped back into the room and crossed to him with two small white cups. One contained the familiar caplets and the other held water. She handed them to him, and he raised an eyebrow, asking whether she checked the visiting room without the words.
She waited expectantly and he downed the medicine.
“Well?” he asked as he handed her the cup.
“She hasn’t returned, sir,” she said.
Cold caressed his cheeks, and his gaze darted to the cops. Fear bloomed in every cell, and he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
“I have to find her,” he said and started ripping at the tubes in his arm.
“Mr. Anderson!” The nurse was around the bed and trying to get him back on the mattress before his feet even hit the ground. “If you don’t settle down, I’ll have to sedate you.”
He sent his most chilling glare in her direction. “You don’t get it,” he growled, fueled by the fire of panic.
“Son, just relax,” the officer said, stepping to help the nurse.
“You don’t understand, if that freak has her...” His breath locked in his chest, coming in short pulls, like an elephant had decided to sit on his chest. He recognized the panic attack gripping him but was helpless to stop it.
“You need to rest. Otherwise, you’ll rip your stitches out,” the nurse said.
He fought against her logic, trying to get to his feet, but the sting of a needle on his backside pulled his head in that direction just in time to see a doctor pulling a needle out of his ass.
“Please,” he started, but the medicine worked fast, turning his muscles to jelly. He slumped back into the bedding. A groan escaped as the pain flared. It only lasted a minute and then his eyelids dropped, along with every hint of consciousness.