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Kenovich to the heliopad, medical emergency. Dr. Kenovich to the
heliopad, medical emergency.
My stomach clenched.
What?
Move, Tevor. Antoine knocked me out of the way.
My back hit the wall. If& if he was hurt why the hell would he
come back here? There were hospitals with the best equipment and
expertise out there. Why would he come back here? If he was hurt
why would he come back here? I trailed after all of them like a lost
puppy who had sort of hoped to have found a new home but really
wasn t expecting it to be true.
Sure enough there was a flat concrete slab that had a yellow
circle painted on it with an H in the middle of it in a courtyard that
I hadn t attempted to explore because Erik s personal space was
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Derekica Snake
down this corridor. The helicopter was large I couldn t tell what
make and model it was but it was pitch black. Meant for running in
the night and running fast. The turning blades were blowing debris
everywhere. I had to cover my eyes. Francois had the side door
opened. Jean and Pierre reached in and helped Erik out the cockpit.
He was bloody.
He listed to his left and his arm was pressed hard into his side.
Blood coated his chest on down his side, soaking into his trousers.
His face was pale and he winced as Pierre jostled him. Erik was
hurt. He was really hurt. Why the hell would he come back here?
Why didn t he go to a hospital?
Olga dropped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed hard then
shoved passed me. I was standing in the middle of the doorway. I
ended up shuffling sideways to get out of the way and Antoine
rumbled a wheelchair up. Useless. I was absolutely useless. I stood
there as Erik was settled in the chair then rushed past me. His blue-
green eyes were pain filled but he turned his head and looked at me.
He smiled. There was blood staining his teeth. Why would he come
back here?
Trevor& He reached out and briefly touched my face then
Antoine pushed him past as they disappeared back into the house.
The helicopter powered up. I stood there stuck in a numbness
physically and mentally watching it as it began to lift off. I ended up
squinting then turning my face away as it hovered for a moment
then it rose and took off to parts unknown. I watched it go, getting
smaller and smaller until it was nothing but a speck in the sky that
could be mistaken for a seagull.
I could have gotten in it. I had the opportunity to get in it and
fly away but to where? Until I knew who I was, or who I was going
to be; I could be running into worse trouble. I headed back to my
room. I didn t want to see how bad Erik was injured. He meant
something to me in the past, that we meant something for each
other whether creepy or obsessively doesn t mean that it s all going
to be hugs and tickles now. I might be fucked in the head, but I
wasn t that bad.
So I keep telling myself. Erik Howell means nothing to me.
He& should mean nothing to me.
As it was, I ended up waiting for news. I caught myself
drumming my fingertips on the arm of the chair in my room. Damn
it. I can t just sit here and wait. I got up. I sat down. Was I feeling
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My Hostage My Love
something for that rapist? No. Do something. Do anything. Just
don t sit here like a sixties sitcom father waiting in the delivery
room. I spied the book that I had been reading all day.
I flicked on a lamp and settled back in the chair to do
something other than wait. The adventures of the vampire hunter
that enthralled me during the light of day couldn t hold my
attention now. My thoughts kept heading back to that bloody smile.
It was horrifying and yet& what? Special?
I went to the bathroom and after I did my business I looked at
myself in the mirror. There was a smeared but dried bloody
handprint on my face. Erik had touched me on the cheek before he
smiled at me with those red stained teeth. I didn t feel it drying or if
I did it was such a familiar sensation that my body ignored it. You
don t get the name the Devil by using please and thank you. I
washed his blood off my face then settled back down to read.
You really are one heartless bastard, Trev. Olga and her
delightful bedside manner had come to call once again.
I looked up from my book. She was in a flower print sundress
that accentuated her womanly curves. The appeal that had once
drawn me to her in the tropical sands was gone now that I knew
that she was fuck-me-over-number-two I should have known even
way back then that I was being played. I mean how can someone
who looks like her go after a pudgy pasty thing that I was
What? You re not going to say anything? You re going to sit
there and read that book? Do you even want to know if he s alive?
Her voice was heavily accented with that eastern block tone and
was laced with so much sarcasm that if I did care, she would have
cut me to ribbons. Good thing I didn t.
I read the same line.
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