Wrong place, Wrong time

16

Magdalena

After resting my eyes for a few minutes, I decide to make an attempt at getting up from the floor, even though this ‘Riggs’ guy is holding me. I have somehow convinced myself that I can walk out of here by myself, with no help. As I move my legs to push myself up, a sharp pain radiates from my thigh making me gasp, and I take a look at it. Oh god, I forgot Gunner stabbed me. Holy s**t, Gunner! I frantically search the room for him, until my eyes land on his dead body slumped against the wall. He’s really gone. He was just there, and now he's not. My breaths turn more frantic, and I end up clutching my ribs. I don’t feel bad for him, he got what was coming to him, but seeing the knife lodged in his forehead is a picture I won’t forget for a while. Heavy boots enter my line of vision, and a few of Wayne’s guys block my view of the room. Their faces are covered, only their eyes are visible. One of them shakes his head, silently indicating that I shouldn’t look.

“Calm your breathing, darlin’. I don’t want you passing out on me. I’m going to lift you on the count of three.” Riggs’ deep southern voice interrupts my meltdown. “Hudson, help me out.” He addresses another of the men surrounding us. Hudson hands his weapon to the guy next to him and approaches us. I move back a little out of instinct, making him halt. “Darlin’, that’s Hudson. He’s not going to hurt you. I need his help to stabilize your torso, so we can get you out of here as painlessly as possible.” He explains.

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m sorry.” I feel like an i***t now, this whole situation is messing with my head. It feels like it has been ingrained in my head, that every new person I meet is out to get me.

“Don’t apologize. We understand.” Hudson has now fully approached us, and bends down to our level. “Now, darlin’, I need you to just focus on your breathing. Moving you is probably going to hurt a bit.” I nod as Riggs puts his arm around my back and hooks another under my knees. “I need you to release the grip you have on your ribs, I’m afraid you’re adding too much pressure.” I begin to shake my head frantically, but before I can even say anything he stops me. “Darlin’, I know it hurts-“

“I’m sorry.” I interrupt him, “I don’t mean to be such a fetus or baby, or whatever you call it.” I try to grasp for the right words, but they’re not entering my brain correctly, the pain is making it difficult to talk or even think right.

“What did I just say about apologizing? Broken ribs are a b***h, you’re doing just fine.”

“How do you know they’re broken?” I ask him confused.

“We saw the recording of the fight,” He hesitantly begins, “There’s no way your ribs survived those kicks.” That’s so f*****g embarrassing. They just had front row seats to me getting my ass handed to me, unwillingly, by the way. I want nothing more than for the ground to swallow me whole right now.

“Never mind, put me down. Just leave me here to die.” The guys around me all collectively let out chuckles. I’m too tired for this, I’ve been humiliated and bruised enough as it is.

“No can do, darlin’.” I sigh as deeply as I can, which is not very deep considering my ribs. Oh yeah, did I mention my ribs hurt already? “If it’s any consolation, you did get her pretty good in the mouth.” True. I awkwardly pat his shoulder in thanks. “Now, Hudson’s hands will replace yours, you can place your hands on top of his if it’ll make you feel any better.” Fine. I shakily remove my arm and Hudson quickly places his hands on me. I rest mine on top of his.

“Thank you, sir.” He huffs out a small laugh.

“You can call me Hudson.” His deep voice introduces himself.

“Okay, sir.” I whisper. The men around me snicker again. His eyes glint with amusement briefly before becoming hard and determined again.

“We’ll leave the knife in your thigh as it is, it’s a clean stab, and you’re not bleeding too much.” Riggs elaborates. How lovely, I’m bleeding appropriately.

“Alright, let’s go.” They carry me out of the room. Some of Wayne’s men encase us in a formation, at least I think that’s the word for it. They carry me through the hallway, back to the end with the door, and the two windows where I had been earlier with Gunner and Weasel. I didn’t realize how much I truly longed for fresh air until the door is opened and we’re outside. We ascend the stairs. More men are lined up everywhere, heavily armed to the teeth. I try not to think about my current situation too much. I’m still terrified, but I don’t feel like provoking another panic attack. The fresh air soothes my lungs. It’s cold but I don’t mind. The feeling of the sun on my face provides a feeling of familiarity and makes goosebumps spread on my skin. The feeling is gone all too soon, when I’m hauled into a truck. Hudson and Riggs place me down on a bench, making me protest in pain. Riggs provides me with some soothing words, while someone drapes a warm jacket over my shoulders. I tuck the jacket closer to me, trying to use it as a shield from the outside world. Having my clothes stripped from me multiple times against my will, makes me want to keep this jacket on forever.

“Alright sweetheart, good job.” Riggs pats my knee on my uninjured leg. “We’ll need to get the knife out of your thigh, so we can stitch it up and bandage it.” Two new guys enter the truck, one of them carrying a black box with a medical sign on it. “Meet our medics, Roman and Axel.” He points at each of them as he introduces them. They’re both wearing balaclavas, so I’m not able to differentiate their features too much. The same goes for Riggs and Hudson. Everyone is basically dressed the same. This is overwhelming. There are no females and I could really use one right now.

“Wait,” The word escapes me before I can stop it, my voice sounding rough. They stop moving around, pausing setting up their equipment. Riggs’ attention is solely on me, so is the attention of the others. “None of my injuries are urgent.” I breathe heavily through the pain. “Can I have a few minutes, please?” I ask Riggs. He studies me intensely and seems to reach a conclusion. He rewards me with a small nod.

“You want us to leave you?” He asks me empathetically.

“No, this is fine. I just want to sit here for a bit.” My voice cracks at the end. He continues to nod. Everyone takes a seat on the benches on both sides of the truck. We sit here in silence, and I like it. I really like it. I lean my head back against the truck wall behind me. I can’t believe I’m actually outside that basement, and in one piece. I feel the pressure of tears building up, so I try to remind myself that there are people out there who have gone through much worse than me. That thought helps me push back the tears enough to take a calming breath. The cold is starting to get to me, and I’m beginning to shiver. Riggs grabs his earpiece and orders someone to turn on the truck and blast the heat. I zone out as the heat begins to wrap around me like a blanket. A sudden movement on my left side startles me, and I enter full self-defense mode. I grab the handle of the knife in my thigh and pull it out, pointing it at whoever has come near me. Oh s**t, I should not have done that.

“Wow, Darlin’. Easy, It’s just us.” Riggs beckons closer and holds out both of his hands to show he’s not going to do anything. As the panic subsides, I recognize Axel as the one who startled me.

“I’m so sorry.” I toss the knife away in disbelief at my action. “I completely zoned out, I forgot where I was for a second.” My thigh is bleeding more heavily now in comparison to before and I move my hand to put pressure on the wound, I hiss. “Shit.” All that movement makes another wave of pain hit my ribs, making me nauseous.

“You’re fine, I should have said something before approaching you.” Axel admits guiltily. “Roman, get your ass over here. “ Roman joins Axel. “Your wound is more urgent now, will you let us take a look?” I look at both of them and nod in confirmation. I’m not used to being on this side, the receiving end of medical care. They both fully approach me and squat down to replace my hand, applying pressure to the wound.

“We need to cut off the shorts.” Roman declares, signaling for Axel to get scissors. Wait a damn minute, I’m not wearing anything underneath. If they cut my shorts, I’ve got nothing else to wear.

“Wait, stop, no!” I protest, my eyes widening.

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” Riggs sits down next to me on the bench. The shame engulfs me, and it feels like my face is on fire. I close my eyes because maybe if I pretend I’m an ostrich with my head in the ground, everything will feel less shameful. If I can’t see them, maybe I’m not actually here right now.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath.” I whisper to him, embarrassed. “They…” I almost can’t get the words out. “They took most of my clothing.” After a moment of silence, I slowly open my eyes. Realization enters his eyes, and they darken, making me gulp nervously. I know his anger is not aimed at me but, please remind me to not get on that dude's bad side.

“f*****g perverts.” He spits out angrily. “Hudson, get a f*****g blanket.” He orders. “Roman, just cut one side of the shorts – but not all the way.” Roman nods. Hudson brings us the blanket and Riggs places it over me. “Feeling more comfortable?” I give him a small nod of gratitude. Axel throws a bundle of something at Roman, who catches it. He unfolds it, and it turns out to be a pair of socks. He looks up at me.

“May I?” Roman asks. I’m not sure if it’s the kind gesture or the asking for consent that makes me tear up, but I blink the tears away, not now. His eyes soften and crinkle at the corners, indicating he is smiling. I give him permission with another wordless nod. He gently puts the socks on my cold feet.

“Thank you, sir.” That was actually really nice. They quickly get back to work and begin cutting my shorts and dressing the wound. It hurts, it really does, but I know they need to stop the bleeding. The knife was holding it in, with it gone there is nothing preventing the blood from exiting my body. My breathing is growing increasingly difficult, and it’s almost impossible to hide now. Axel puts a gentle hand on my shoulder while Roman is keeping firm pressure on my thigh.

“I’ll give you something for the pain now, that should make it easier for you to breathe.” Axel prepares a syringe with morphine. That’s the good s**t, thank god. He disinfects the spot he has sought out, and installs a hypodermic needle on my arm, so he’ll be able to inject the morphine slowly, but steady. My trust in them grows a little because it seems like they know what they are doing.

“There,” Axel finishes the injection and puts some medical tape on the port to keep it in place, he probably thinks I’ll need more later, and he’s not wrong. “It won’t be long till the pain eases, hang in there.” He goes back to help Roman with the thigh-situation. I definitely need stitches. I wonder if they have any sedatives. Roman lifts the bandage he has been pressing onto the wound and seems satisfied with the result. It’s no longer bleeding.

“You need stitches, Cara.” Roman declares, as I expected. “We don’t carry any numbing remedies with us.” He looks conflicted, like he knows it has to be stitched up but doesn’t want to hurt me. Riggs mutters something under his breath, he sounds annoyed.

“It’s alright.” I attempt to ease the stress that’s suddenly building in here. “You work for Scarface, that dude has like, zero nerve endings, apparently.” I huff out a little laugh at my own joke, the morphine is finally kicking in. They seem to relax a little. “No wonder you don’t usually need numbing stuff.” I thought I wanted to cry earlier, but now I really want to cry. This is going to be painful.

“Alright, let’s do this then.” Axel squats down and lifts my leg, so it can rest over his. Roman moves in between my legs, to access the wound from the opposite side of Axel. The sudden proximity makes me tense up, and I press myself further into the wall of the truck. They feel me move back and Axel stops Roman from moving any further. Roman looks confused at the gesture, but suddenly realizes his position.

“Merda, sorry Cara.” Roman curses at himself. He rests both his knees on the floor. “I know I’m a bit up close and personal, and I can imagine that’s one of the last things you want right now. I don’t know how to make this more comfortable for you, but I promise I won’t hurt you.” He looks around him, his eyes stopping on Axel. Axel decides to help him out.

“If he does anything other than what he has to, Riggs will be allowed to shoot him.” My eyes widen at Axel’s words.

“You have my word, Darlin’.” Riggs confirms, throwing Axel a nod of approval. Roman doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“Roman is the best one at sewing and stitching, he spends most of his free time embroidering.” Roman smacks Axel on the arm.

“What the hell, man? I told you that in confidentiality.” My grandmother used to do embroidery all the time, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

“That’s cool,” I interrupt their argument, “I’ve always wanted to learn that, just haven’t gotten around to it yet. I’ve been a bit occupied.” I send Roman a tightlipped smile. His angry demeanor vanishes.

“Really? I’ll teach you sometime, Cara. Now, may I come closer, so we can get the stitches done?” He awaits my response patiently. I decide to quickly say yes, so it’ll be over sooner rather than later. I prepare myself by bringing the sleeve of the jacket to my mouth so I can bite down on it. Riggs scoots closer to me.

“Here, darlin’.” He offers me his hand and I quickly take it. “Squeeze as hard as you’d like, it won’t hurt me at all.” He’s indirectly calling me weak, but I’ll let it slide this time. I do look like a string bean compared to him.

“Ready?” Roman asks me. I give him a small sound of yes, not removing the sleeve from my mouth. He quickly begins stitching. Each stitch is agonizing, and I fight with all my might to keep any sound from slipping out. He works fast and precisely, and before I know it, it’s over and he has rewrapped everything. I held my breath for far too long and a round of dizziness hits me. I almost tilt over, but Riggs, Roman and Axel are quick to stop me.

“Woah, we’ve got you.” Axel keeps me upright by my shoulder. He gestures for Hudson, who has been silently watching everything, to come take a seat on my other side to keep me upright. “Roman, go get her something to drink, preferably with sugar.”

“On it.” Roman fetches a coke, and for a moment I think about marrying the man. He opens it for me and helps me take a few sips.

“Thank you, sir.” My eyes start to droop. The mix of the pain meds, exhaustion, the warmth and the safe feeling from being sandwiched between Hudson and Riggs is dragging me down. I’m fighting hard to keep them open.

“Close your eyes, rest darlin’.” The encouragement from Riggs is the final straw, and I let the darkness consume me.