Page 29 of Savage SEAL's Virgin
Blyss was covered in blood. Her body hung in the ropes as some asshole hid in the corner of the room, whimpering like a little rat, “She wouldn’t stop talking. I had to do it.”
Grant looked at me with raised brows. “Do what you need to do, Troy. We’ll get her down.”
The coward was cringing close to the floor as I made swift steps to him. My mind was black. I was in combat mode. He’d hurt the woman I loved. Maybe even killed her. He was as good as dead.
I can’t say what happened after that. I just know it took five men to pull me off him, and when my eyes came back into focus, a bloody mess was all that was left of the man who’d dared to harm my woman.
As the rage began to simmer inside me, I saw that Blyss had been loaded onto a gurney. She wasn’t breathing, one of the paramedics said. He began trying to resuscitate her, but she wasn’t responding.
“I know how to do that.” I stepped up and began mouth to mouth on her. I found her limp and cold. It was my fault for sending her there. Everything was due to me and I’d be damned if she was going to die because of that. She wasn’t responding to me either.
Stopping for a second, I took her hand and held it to my heart. “You feel that, baby? That’s beating only for you. You come out of this. I need you. I’m not letting you go.” I went back to work on her, and when I felt air flow from her mouth to mine, tears sprang into my eyes.
“We have her,” the paramedic confirmed. “We’ll get her to the hospital now.”
I held her hand as they wheeled her out, then I felt Grant put his hand on my shoulder. “We’ll press full charges on the man who did this. Not to worry about a thing. You just take care of your girl. We’ll come up to the hospital after the asshole is dealt with.”
“Did I leave you much to work with?” I had to ask, as I had gone black, the way I always did when the savage man inside took over.
“Not a hell of a lot, but we’ll make sure he’s kept alive so he can face the charges we’ll bring against him.” Grant left me, then, with a pat on the back and a smile. He called out over his shoulder, “She’ll be okay. Take good care of her. She’s tougher than she looks.”
I prayed he was right and I was wrong. I didn’t think she was tough. I thought she was like a porcelain doll—one I hadn’t taken care of well enough.
As we rode in the ambulance, I couldn’t think. One of the paramedics asked, “Is there anyone you should be calling? Her parents or any other family?”
I shook my head. “She has no one. No one except me.”
“Okay. Can you get started on this paperwork, then? That way the doctors can get right to work on her. The lacerations are over some of her vital internal organs. I’m sure they’ll want to take her into surgery and have the blood transfusion permission paper signed by the responsible party.”
I got to work on the papers that were stacked on a clipboard, but hated that I couldn’t hold her hand while I did it. I was taking responsibility for her. She could count on me to make sure everything was done for her. I was all she had. When we got to the emergency room, things went in a rushed fashion. Three doctors looked at her as she was wheeled down a long hallway. The lead paramedic shot off all this medical jargon that helped them form their plan of action.
I walked along with them, never letting her hand go and quietly whispering to her as we went, “I love you. I’m here for you. I am with you, Blyss. You stay with me. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise that. Just come back to me. Please don’t leave me. I’ll make your life a fantasy. I love you.”
We got to the doors of the operating room and I was left behind as the rest of them went in with my heart and soul on the gurney. Turning around in a circle, I found a bathroom and staggered into it. There, I fell completely apart. I threw up, cried, threw up some more, and shouted at the top of my lungs that I’d kill that mother fucker who’d done that to her. Then I washed my face, ran my wet hands through my hair, and wiped everything away with a paper towel.
As I looked in the mirror, I said to myself, “That was it. Your one moment of weakness. You get no more of that. You are to stay strong for your woman. Never have doubt that she will make it through this. Never!”
When I left that bathroom, I found Grant waiting in the hallway just outside the OR. “They told me they took her straight into surgery. The cops picked up the man. His name is Roger Parker. He’s from New Jersey. He’s been a member for three months and had no prior charges. I have no idea why he did what he did, but he’ll never leave prison alive, I can promise you that, Troy.”
I nodded and saw a small waiting room with glass walls. “Let’s go in there and wait. That way they’ll see me when they come out with any news of her.”
He and I went to the room and took seats. There was a brightly-lit vending machine full of sodas. Another one had all kinds of snacks in it, and I found myself wondering who the hell could eat or drink when someone they loved was in the operating room.
Grant was the best company a man could have during that six-hour wait. He was quiet. He was a man who knew what other men needed—to be quiet, but know someone is there for him. When the doctor came in, I had a hard time not grabbing him and squeezing every bit of information about Blyss out of him. “How is she? Is she awake? When can I see her?”
The doctor put his hand on my shoulder. “She has a cut on her liver, bruised kidneys, and many, many lacerations on her back and sides, including her buttocks and the backs of her legs and arms. Her wrists and ankles are both bruised and cut where she pulled against what seems like ropes. We know where she was brought from. Did she consent to be treated that way?”
“NO!” Grant and I both shouted.
“That’s not a part of what goes on there,” Grant said. “This is an uncommon situation. This has never happened in all the years the club has been open. The man who did this was taken into custody and the owners, me being one of them, are pressing every charge that can be brought up on him.”
“And what are you going to do to prevent anything like this from happening again?” the doctor asked as he crossed his arms, looking at Grant with disapproval.
“We’ve closed the club down for now, until we can make the rooms more easily accessible and also keep guards in the hallway with monitors to make sure this never happens again.” Grant put his hand on my shoulder. “I promise you, this will change a lot at the club, Troy. We’ll never allow this to happen again.”
I was reeling from how the doctor was treating us, as if we’d hurt her. If he was acting that way, how would the police treat us?
The doctor turned his attention to me. “Do you plan on suing the club for what happened to your girlfriend?”
