Unforgettable You (24 page)

The scream that comes from those beautiful lips is something I’ll never forget as long as I live. It’s like all of the screams she wanted to utter prior have all joined together and come thundering out, the screams of a thousand tortured souls, a sound that makes my blood turn icy and my extremities go numb. He flicks the end of the needle and she shrieks, an ungodly sound that rattles the light fixtures, and the crowd roars their approval. I catch a glimpse of Clint’s face and I see something that chills my heart – tears. His face is coated in them, and I reach up and touch my cheeks to realize my face is soaked too. What I’m seeing there is going to scar me for the rest of my life, I’m sure, and I double over with the overload of what’s happening to a woman I’d give my life for, even more so for the fact that what’s happened between us makes her want to hurt this way. That’s when I hear Clint say, “What’s she doing?”

When I manage to straighten, I take a look. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Look at her hands.”

I watch for a few seconds. But what I see next sets me on fire. Because the “dom” in front of her glances up, sees what she’s doing, and he does something that ignites a dangerous fury inside of me.

He laughs.

And that’s when I realize – it’s her hand signal. The one she showed me. The one I told her to use if she couldn’t speak for some reason. And that chuckle? It means she told him, she showed him.

And he’s chosen to ignore it.

She has no idea that I’m here, but somewhere in her heart, that signal means she’s begging me to do something, to help her some way, not knowing I’m here but hoping, hoping someone will figure it out. What comes out of my mouth is a roar. “THAT SON OF A BITCH!”

Clint’s eyes go wide. “What? What is it?”

“THAT’S HER FUCKING HAND SIGNAL AND HE JUST LAUGHED IT OFF!” I’m already on the move, Clint right behind me, and I know he’s figured out what I’m talking about. When I take the stage in the performance area, I’m sure I look like a mad man, but I don’t care. I thunder up to the asshole, grab him by the neck, and slam him against the back wall. “I know exactly what you’re doing, you no good fuckstick! I saw you laugh.”

A half dozen guys are coming toward the stage and I hear a telltale “click” followed by Clint growling toward them, “Back the fuck off.” And they do. That’s Clint – packing. I can always count on him.

The smarmy guy looks me in the eye and says, “Fuck off.”

“I’m gonna show you fuck off. You tell me you don’t know what that hand signal means and I’ll tell you you’re a lying son of a bitch. You touch her again and you’ll die by my hand right here in front of everyone in this room. You got that? Huh? GOT IT?”

I guess I look just crazy enough to make a believer out of him because he takes a look at Clint and the crowd and says, “Take the crazy bitch. She can’t handle the pain anyway.” That finishes shoving me across the line in the pissed off department, and I double up a fist and knock him to the floor before I turn to Sheila.

She’s twisted in the bindings in her efforts to get away from the pain, and I lean into her ear and whisper, “Baby, it’s me. It’s Steffen. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you. Clint’s here too – we’re going to take care of you. Just give me a minute. I want to do this so I don’t hurt you any worse, okay? We’re getting you out of here.” I start loosening one ankle while Clint does the other, and then he undoes the restraints on her wrists, taking an arm down at a time. As soon as her arms and legs are free, I sweep my arm behind her knees and lift them to a sitting position. He unbinds her head and neck, and then I hold her tightly under her knees and ass in my doubled arms when he unbuckles her waist. He pins her shoulders back until I can get an arm behind her back to lift her without her upper body falling forward, not wanting to drive the needles farther into her flesh. Once she’s in my arms, I run down the back hallway with her, Clint right on my heels, and grab the first empty private room I see.

“What do you need?” he shouts at me.

“Something with lidocaine in it, a wash or something. And something with alcohol. It’ll hurt, but we’ve got to do something to minimize the risk of infection.”

I hear him out in the hallway. “Where’s your goddamn first aid kit?” There’s mumbling, and an older man bursts into the room.

I’m sure my eyes are glowing red when I spit at him, “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the general manager. I had no idea what was going on, I swear. I just . . .”

“Shut up and help us. I need something with some kind of numbing agent in it.”

For a few seconds he rummages around in a drawer of a cabinet there in the room. “Here.” It’s some store brand version of Solarcaine. “This should work.”

Clint thrusts a bottle in front of me. “Bactine wash. It’ll work as an antiseptic.”

“Thanks. Help me keep her still.” I pull the blindfold off and look down into her face. “Baby, can you hear me? Sheila? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Should we call an ambulance?” the older guy asks.

“No. Hang on for a few minutes. Let me see what I can do before we do that.” My first thought is the humiliation she’ll feel if it comes to that, but I’ll have them called before I’ll let her suffer more or undergo more damage. I watch as her eyes roll around in her head, and then they swivel and catch mine. “Baby, you with me?”

“Steffen?” Her voice is thin and wispy, and I can barely hear her.

“Yeah, angel, it’s me. I’m going to try to help you here, but you’ve got to be still for me. Can you do that?”

Her voice is a breathy whine. “Steffen, it hurts. Please help me. It hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know. Here we go. You’ve got to stay still, okay?” She nods. “Okay, I’m taking out the one in your clit first. Hang in there with me.” My hands are shaking and I feel hands on my shoulders: Clint. I’ve never been so grateful to have a friend in my entire life. “Take her hands, pull them up over her head, and hold them there.” Without having to tell him, the manager guy mercifully presses a hand to the top of each of her thighs. When they’ve got her restrained, I grasp the end of the needle tightly and pull straight out in one quick movement. She shrieks, then quiets. Clint hands me a cotton ball with the antiseptic wash on it, and I wipe and clean as best I can.

I spray both breasts with the numbing agent and set about to systematically remove the needles from the right one. I’m trying to remove them in the order they were put in, but I really can’t remember. I do know to take the one in the tip of her nipple out first, and then the ones closest to it, followed by the outer ones. One by one I pull them out, and she cries out a little each time. There’s some bleeding, but not a lot. As I pull them out, Clint works to wipe each needle mark with the antiseptic. I manage to get all of them out of her right breast, then start on the left one, and it appears that the numbing agent has already gone to work, because by the time I get all of the needles out, she’s quieted. She’ll hurt in the morning, but right now, she’s okay. When she rolls her eyes back toward me, I smile. “I got them all out, precious. They’ll hurt in the morning, but I think you’ll be okay.” She gives me a tiny smile. “Honey, what did you take? What did he give you?”

“Muscle relaxant.”

Clint grimaces. I know exactly what he’s thinking, and I’m thinking the same thing, but I don’t have time to go out front and kill some scum-sucking motherfucker right now. It’s way more important to get her out of here. “Give me a blanket and get the hell out of my way,” I snarl at the older guy, then turn to Clint. “Can we stay at your place tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Clint holds the door for me as I carry her out the back and around the building to the car. “I’ll call Trish on the way home and tell her what’s going on.” We manage to get her into the backseat, and I ride back there with her, her head in my lap. I stroke her hair and talk to her the whole way there. I can hear Clint talking to Trish on the phone, can hear Trish crying, and I wonder when I’ll stop doing the same. My tears are dripping off my jaw and into Sheila’s hair, and I break down and cry like I’ve never cried before.

Trish is waiting for us. She’s got their bedroom ready, and I carry Sheila in and put her in the middle of the bed, then crawl in with her. “Can you get her some Tylenol or something?”

“Sure.” Trish disappears and comes back with two Tylenol and a glass of water.

“Pumpkin, can you sit up and takes these?”

She mumbles, “More muscle relaxant?”

“No, baby, Tylenol to help with the pain.” She opens her mouth, I shove them in, and she takes a big drink and lies back down.

Trish strokes her hair for a minute before she leaves the room. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry,” she keeps whispering over and over, but I’m not sure Sheila can hear her.

She turns to leave and Clint bends down over the drugged, lifeless woman lying there with me. “Get some rest, honey. We’ll see you in the morning.” He drops a little kiss on her forehead, then reaches for me and hugs me. I start to cry again. I can’t help it. Even with her lying here, those images keep playing in my mind and my brain is screaming in misery.

I settle down in the bed and she shifts in my arms, then snuggles into me. I’m guessing Clint and Trish are either sleeping on the couch, or can’t sleep so they’ll just sit there and keep vigil all night. Two hours later, a hand on my face wakes me, and I look down to see her looking up at me. “Steffen?”

“Hey, baby! Yeah, it’s me. I’m right here. How do you feel?”

“Hurts.” She closes her eyes and grimaces, then looks back up at me. “How did you find me?”

“A total fluke. I guess something or someone made sure I was there tonight because you’d need me. And I’m glad I was.”

“Me too.” She stopped for a second. “I was calling your name. Did you hear me?”

I start to cry again. I don’t care that she sees; that doesn’t matter anymore. “No, baby, you weren’t. But I didn’t have to hear you. I saw your hand signal.”

She nods. “But I was screaming your name.”

“No, sweetie. You were screaming in your head, but it wasn’t coming out. The drugs he gave you kept you from being able to talk or scream, but I understood. I knew.”

“I didn’t think you were coming.” When I kiss her forehead, I hear her whisper, “I thought you’d forgotten me.”

That’s it. Every aching, broken, jagged, raw, bleeding corner of my heart is torn apart with those five little words. I bury my face in her neck and turn loose with big, crazed sobs that shake the whole bed. I cry like that for ten minutes. I can’t stop. When I finally do, I look into those blue eyes that are looking back into mine. “Baby, I love you so much. I didn’t tell you that before, but I’m telling you now. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in the whole world. You’re everything to me. There’s no one who’s more important to me than you.” Her eyes search my face. “Girl, I could never, ever forget you in a million years, even if I tried. You’re in my heart forever, little one. You’re part of my soul. I could never forget you. Never.”

Her voice is innocent and pure. “You love me?”

“Yes, angel, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, at Clint and Trish’s wedding. I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you too, Steffen.” The muscle relaxant is still working because she says, “I love you and I want to marry you and have your babies.”

“Oh, is that right?” I laugh through my tears.

“Yes, that’s right. Tomorrow,” she slurs.

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll see what I can do. Won’t change your mind, will you?”

“Nope. Marry me, Steffen, right now.”

“I can’t. It’s the middle of the night and we’ve got to sleep, and then I want to take you to someone to have you checked out tomorrow. But we’ll talk about it then, okay?”

“Okay.” She sighs, closes her eyes, and burrows into my chest. “But I need a ring.”

Oh, baby girl, you’re
definitely
getting one of those.

“Ouch!”

“I’m sorry.” The physician’s assistant is poking around down below, and Sheila’s making all kinds of faces. “Does it hurt much?”

“Yeah. Well, no, not a lot, but it’s in a bad place to hurt.”

“Uh-huh, I would think so.” She snaps off her gloves, then puts on two more. As she starts pressing around on Sheila’s nipples, my baby makes another face.

“Ouch.” When the woman looks up at her, Sheila reassures her. “Just sore.”

I’ll admit it: I’m terrified. “She’s going to be okay, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” The woman pats Sheila on the shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. But I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic just in case. Keep doing what you’re doing, and when you’re home, try going without a bra and panties for a few days. It’ll help all of that heal better.” She looks at Sheila and then back to me. “Did you . . .”

“No. It wasn’t me. Don’t ask. It’s complicated. Let’s just say this won’t happen again, right, babe?”

“Oh hell no! Never again.” Sheila’s shaking her head vigorously and I almost laugh. I don’t think I ever have to worry about this again.

“Okay, well, just keep the wounds clean and dry. You can use antibiotic cream if you want; they make some with a numbing agent in it that might help. Take Tylenol if you need it. And call to come back in if there’s any problem at all.” She snaps off her gloves again. “You can get dressed and they’ll take care of you out front.”