IN HER VEINS

CHAPTER 5

The fluorescent lights of the hospital room flickered faintly, casting ghostly shadows on the walls. Tammy sat hunched on the edge of the bed, her hospital gown too large for her slender frame. Her breathing was shallow, each inhale laced with the remnants of panic. What had seemed like a random collapse at the mall was now unraveling into something far more sinister.

She had felt it earlier—the tightening in her chest, the dizziness creeping in as if someone had flipped a switch in her body. But now, in the sterile silence of the hospital, she pieced it together. Her water bottle. The only thing she'd consumed that day, handed to her by the man who always lingered too close, always smirked too knowingly. Rodrigo, her handler.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, snapping her back to the present. Tammy's heart clenched as she saw the name on the screen: Rodrigo.

With trembling fingers, she picked it up, her instincts screaming at her to ignore it. But she knew better. Ignoring him would only make things worse.

"Why aren’t you back at the house?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"I—" Tammy’s throat closed up, her words catching like thorns. "I collapsed. They brought me to the hospital."

There was a pause, and then a chilling laugh. "You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t have eyes on you, chica? I warned you about stepping out of line."

"I didn’t—"

"Shut up!" Rodrigo’s tone shifted to a hiss, venomous and sharp. "I don’t care if you’re dying. Get out of there before someone starts asking questions. You know what happens if the wrong people get curious."

Tammy swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on her chest. She knew exactly what he meant. She’d seen it happen before—girls who thought they could escape the cartel’s grip, only to disappear without a trace.

"I can’t just leave," she said, her voice a fragile whisper.

"You don’t have a choice," Rodrigo snapped. "You think your little fainting act gets you sympathy? You’re an asset, nothing more. If you screw this up, you’re done.”

Rodrigo’s smirk deepened as Tammy hesitated, his voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

"You think your knight in shining armor can save you again? Let him try—I'll make sure he regrets ever laying eyes on you."

The threat hit her like a slap, her body recoiling instinctively. The line went dead, leaving her with the oppressive hum of silence.

Tammy pressed her hands to her temples, the world spinning again—but this time from fear, not fatigue. She wanted to cry, to scream, but years of survival had taught her that tears solved nothing.

Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the man who had saved her earlier. The stranger with sharp, stormy eyes who had risked everything to help her. His voice had been calm, his grip steady as he carried her. For the first time in years, she had felt safe.

But now? She was alone again, with no one to save her.

The door creaked open, and a nurse entered, her kind eyes scanning Tammy’s pale face. "Are you feeling better, sweetheart?"

Tammy forced a nod, her fingers gripping the thin blanket on her lap. "Yes. Thank you."

The nurse hesitated, her gaze lingering. "You should stay the night for observation. You—"

"No," Tammy blurted, the urgency in her voice startling them both. "I—I feel fine. I need to go."

The nurse frowned. "Are you sure? It’s important we monitor—"

"I can’t stay," Tammy insisted, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her heart raced as she thought of Rodrigo’s threats, the leash tightening around her neck.

The nurse looked unconvinced but didn’t press further. "Alright. Let me get the discharge papers."

As the door clicked shut, Tammy moved quickly, grabbing her clothes from the chair in the corner. Her movements were frantic, her breaths shallow. She couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t give Rodrigo a reason to follow through on his threats.

But as she dressed, her thoughts returned to the man from the mall. What if he could help her again? What if he was her way out of this nightmare?

Shaking her head, Tammy shoved the thought aside. People like him didn’t save girls like her. Not twice.

She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head, stepping into the shadowy corridor of the hospital. Her eyes darted around, scanning for familiar faces, for signs of danger. Every step felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss.

As she slipped out into the afternoon air, her heart whispered a desperate plea: Please, find me. Save me. Just one more time.

In the distance, the soft growl of a car engine rumbled to life. Tammy froze, her instincts flaring. A black sedan idled at the curb, its blaring horn slicing through the silence in the vicinity.

And then, the passenger window rolled down, revealing Rodrigo’s smirking face.

"Get in," he ordered.

Tammy’s blood ran cold, her feet rooted to the ground. Behind her, the hospital doors loomed like a gateway to safety, but she knew they wouldn’t protect her for long.

Her mind raced, searching for an escape, for a miracle. Somewhere, deep inside, she clung to the hope that the stranger with the stormy eyes would come for her.

But hope, she knew, was a dangerous thing

Xavier didn’t waste a second. The moment Dr. Harper confirmed Tammy’s blood as a potential solution, his instincts kicked into overdrive. His first step was to establish a trail. People didn’t just vanish—not without leaving behind breadcrumbs.

Back at the hospital, Xavier approached a tech he had greased palms with before—a wiry man with a sharp wit and loose ethics. "I need every second of footage from the ER entrance," Xavier said, his voice calm but steely. “And no questions.”

The tech’s fingers flew across the keyboard. Within minutes, the grainy footage played on the screen, revealing Tammy’s departure. Xavier’s jaw tightened as he watched her stumble out, unaccompanied, but her body language screamed distress.

The video now shows a black sedan pulling up beside her and without hesitation entering. They zoomed in to see the drivers face and there he was.

"Run a facial match," Xavier ordered. He leaned closer, memorizing every frame. The driver’s face turned just enough for the camera, and the tech froze the image. “This guy,” Xavier said, pulling his phone out to compare with his private database of known enforcers linked to criminal rings.

When the match pinged—Rodrigo "Razor" Ortega, a cartel handler—Xavier’s heart sank. This was bigger than he thought. Tammy wasn’t just a random victim. She was marked.

Without hesitation, he dialed a contact deep in the underworld, a fixer who owed him a favor. “I need Razor’s current location. Now.”

The fixer’s voice hesitated. “That’s a dangerous ask, Xavier.”

“Not as dangerous as I’ll be if you stall,” Xavier shot back, the edges of his voice sharp enough to cut steel.

Hanging up, he texted Sylvester: “I’m tracking her. Stay ready.”

This was no longer just a rescue. It was a race against forces that played dirty—and Xavier wasn’t going to let Tammy slip through the cracks.