"Fuck me," he says softly as he turns back to the road.
"Yeah. Not good, man. Not good at all. I will say this, I'm gonna find the fuckers, and I'm gonna kill them slowly, make them beg for death. They won't get away with this. We handle it, no fucking law."
"I'm with you, man," Blade says.
"Same here," Roadblock agrees.
“Hang on, sweetheart. We'll be home soon," I whisper quietly as my heart breaks a little more for her, at how fragile and broken she looks. This strong, powerful feeling spreads through me, a need to protect her at all costs and keep her safe in my arms.
We finally pull into the garage, and Checkmate greets us with a big old cheesy grin. As he moves forward, he hollers at us, "Did I miss out on the fun?" He must see their grim faces as they exit the Jeep, and a flash of confusion sweeps over his features.
Roadblock gets out first. “We got a serious problem in the back." Checkmate practically runs him over to come around back and see what’s going on. He lifts the hatch, and his eyes get huge at the sight before him.
“Who is this? And what the fuck happened to her?" he breathes out, staring in surprise.
I shake my head at him and start crawling out as best I can with her in my arms while crouching down in the cargo area. He reaches in to grab her, and I growl at him.
“I’ve got her,” I bite out.
"Whoa, dude, calm your tits. Just trying to help," Checkmate says with his slow southern drawl as he holds up his hands and backs up. I lift her out gently and make my way to the door while Roadblock is doing the opposite of his call sign and actually clearing a pathway for me to get into the house.
The men all follow behind me, and I take her straight to my bedroom.
“Pull the comforter back,” I order.
Blade hurry's to rip the comforter off, and I carefully lay her down. She makes no sound.
“Take your shirt off, Roadblock. I need your body heat to warm her up. First things first, we need to get her core temp back up.”
Roadblock kicks his boots off, rips his shirt off, and crawls into bed next to her. Then, I pull the comforter up over them and sit down next to her, feeling her pulse.
"Blade, go grab all the medical supplies you can find, and bring me hot water and washcloths.”
"Does someone want to fill me in on why we have a bloodied-up, naked, half-dead girl here in the house and not at a fucking hospital?"
“We found her while hunting that grizzly, and we got there just in time. Two enormous grizzlies were fighting over her. The winner went and pawed at her, and that's when we spotted her and took him out. I carried her out, planning to do exactly that, when she woke just long enough to beg me to let her die, said no hospitals…They'd find her. Then she passed out again.” I relay the facts to Checkmate and feel my heart start to pound harder, and I instinctively clench my fists and jaw.
“Jesus, she’s really fucked up. Who the fuck are they?” Checkmate asks, his pretty boy face now pinching with concern.
“I plan to fucking find out and see to it they never hurt anyone again,” I bite out.
Checkmate crosses his arms, and his face slides into the stone mask of a soldier before he nods.
“We need you to hack into the clinic's security system and shut it down tonight. We need major supplies; IVs, antibiotics, and some other things I’ll write out.”
“Fuck, yeah. Whatever you need, man. But maybe we drive her farther away from here and try another hospital. Assuming she has been, ya know, raped, how the fuck is she gonna handle waking up to four huge men?”
“We don’t know who the fuck is looking for her, man, and she’s got some kind of brand on her hip. I’m not taking her anywhere if there’s a chance they could get to her, especially since we don’t know who could be looking for her. She either ran away, was dumped or left, thinking she was a goner, so she stays until she can answer some questions. We’ll make that decision when the time comes.”
Blade rushes in with some supplies, dumps them at the foot of the bed, and runs back out. He brings in a pot of hot water and some rags folded over his arm.
"Set the water on my nightstand," I say.
I check her pulse, which is stronger, and her skin is already feeling warmer than it was. Then again, when you have a giant heater wrapped around you, underneath a thick down comforter, you can warm up rather quick.
“How’s she feeling, Roadblock? Does she feel warmer?”
“Yeah, she’s getting there.”
“All right, let’s give her another ten minutes to warm up before I have to pull the comforter off. Blade, Checkmate, follow me outside for a smoke. Let’s talk about the clinic.
Chapter Two
Homicide
After we’ve formed a plan for tonight, I head back into the room to get the woman cleaned up. While Checkmate runs down to his computer room to start hacking into the security system, I move to the bed and pull the comforter back.
“Can you gently roll her to her side with the bear claw gash facing up?”
Roadblock rolls her so she’s lying on her side and climbs off the bed toward me. Blade walks around to the other side and crawls up behind her so he can start inspecting her injuries. He’s always been my right-hand man in the field. “Jesus fuck,” Blade bites out with rage on his face.
“What?” I ask, feeling a chill run through my body at what he might have found. He looks up, and I see a pained look in his eyes
"Her ass, it's bad... she's been...fuck, man! Looks like she's been raped with a tool or device or something. She’s bloody and torn up bad.”
"Fucking bastards!” Roadblock yells, and I look up to see his veins bulging in his massive neck. His whole body is shaking while his jaw pulses.
"Shh, not so loud, man. We don't need to scare her. Right now, it’s best she’s out so we can clean her up and see exactly what we’re up against. Do you see any open wounds or signs of infection?”
"No, old scars, maybe from a whip, possibly," Blade says as he scans her back.
“Okay, roll her on her back again.” Blade and Roadblock both help to roll her gently over. I crawl up and start assessing her. I glance up at Roadblock and see something in his eyes I've never seen before in all the years we've fought alongside each other. Pain but also a determined protectiveness.
“I feel ya man. She’s got under my skin too.”
The three of us silently go to work, trying to be as gentle as possible as we wash her so we can see her injuries and know what we’re dealing with. We get her whole front done. I look up at my brothers as my gut twists, and I feel sick that I have to go there; but she needs cleaned everywhere, and I need to know how bad it is. If these sick fucks used tools as well, she could have internal damage or bleeding, and there is an awful lot of blood between her legs – way more than just from being fucked rough by multiple men, which leads me to think something was shoved inside to cause maximum damage or to kill her by making her bleed out from inside.
I quickly shake my head, trying to remove the mental shit-show, and force my mind to go into the clinical side. I’m the one who has the medical training and has always patched everyone up, but still, this is way different than patching up blown off limbs and gunshot wounds.