Page 4 of Her Avenging Angel

Chapter Four

When Taylynn openedher eyes, the first thing she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. Someone had found her where she’d been dumped in the bushes in the middle of nowhere, but who? She lay still, searching her memory for any clue who had picked her up. Nothing gave her any idea where she was.

She did recall voices, one talking to her but others talking nearby. She couldn’t be sure she hadn’t dreamed them, but it felt like she was in a bed, and she had blankets, so wherever she was, it probably wasn’t with any of the Iron Demons. Where was she and how long had she’d been there?

Thinking of how long she’d been there, she needed to pee. She took a deep breath and tried to roll to one side so she could get up but found that every movement hurt. It wasn’t the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last. But she tried to sit up and found she couldn’t. Not only did it send shooting pain through her side, but her hand didn’t work right, and she wasn’t sure why. It seemed to be taped to something.

“You’re awake.” A voice said to her right.

She froze. Who was there? The voice told her it was a man, but who was he? How long had he been there? Had he been watching her sleep? Her mind spun with questions, none of which would get answered unless she said something.

“Wh­—” she coughed, making pain shoot through her chest then to her entire body.

“Freud! Get your ass in here!” the man sitting next to her yelled.Who was Freud?

She turned her head toward the voice, trying to see who he was, but she didn’t recognize him. The man sitting in the chair beside her bed looked tired, that was the first thing she noticed about him. Second was the shaggy dark hair that looked like he’d shoved his hands through it more than a few times, and the matching beard that hid most of his neck. He wore a leather vest that told her he was part of a club, but she couldn’t see the patches that told his name or position. The Demons had called it a rag but she knew different clubs had different names for them, just like with the club whores. That’s what she’d been. Though not by choice. And that’s what they’d called her, when they weren’t calling her sweetheart.Whore, get over here. Whore, clean this. On your knees, whore.

She pushed those thoughts out of her head and turned her mind back to the here and now. To what kind of trouble she was in now.

Taylynn scowled. She wanted to ask where she was, but it hurt to try to talk. She didn’t know why or if more had happened than she’d remembered.

A face peeked into the doorway, a guy about her age, maybe a little younger than her own twenty-three. She didn’t recognize him either.

“The doc’s on his way. He was in the head.”

“Tell him she’s awake. I need to know what to do. Can I give her something to drink?”

“Let me check.” The face disappeared.

Taylynn looked back to the man in the chair. She still didn’t know who he was and the one name he’d used didn’t mean anything to her.

“I know it hurts. We’re doing our best to keep the pain to a minimum, but Freud has had to be careful. It’s too easy to give too much when you can’t get feedback. Now that you’re awake, I’m sure he’ll be able to do a better job.

“Where am I?” she fought the whisper past her dry, painful throat.

“You’re at the Fallen Angel’s clubhouse. I don’t know who did this to you, but they won’t get a chance to do it again, at least not while you’re here.” He paused and looked toward the door.

Hearing something from that direction, Taylynn looked that way too. She was just in time to see an older man, he looked old enough to be her dad, this guy looked at least fifty, if he was a day.

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