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Perfect Chaos(32)

By:Nashoda Rose


“Hold her.”

Hands held my wrists. No. No, it was the belt. The belt was being tied around my wrists.

I couldn’t distinguish what was real. “Let me go. Let me go!” I yelled as loud as I could.

Everything meshed together. The voices. Images.

“Damn it, sedate her.”

I screamed again and again as the images roared through my head.

He was running after Deck, knife in his hand, his eyes laughing. Deck was just standing there looking at me. He was shaking his head—disappointed. He was disappointed with me.

Why wasn’t he looking at the boy who was going to kill him?

“Deck. Deck.”

Heaviness gripped me and I was running in slow motion toward them. I wasn’t going to get there in time. No, don’t take him from me, too. “Please. No.”

The knife came toward Deck’s chest in slow motion. I sobbed hysterically, but Deck just stood there watching as the knife kept coming.

“Nooo.” I couldn’t lose him.

“Sir. Sir. You can’t go in there—”

“Out of my way before I throw you out of my way.”

Deck?

I moaned.

What was happening? I couldn’t see him anymore. It was dark and … I struggled again. Tossing and turning trying to find him.

“Shh. Calm down.” I didn’t recognize the voice. I heard the shuffling of feet. Who was here? “What the hell is going on out there?”

“You need to move. Now.”

My eyes flew open when I heard his voice. Deck. He was alive. Robbie didn’t kill him. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. I pulled upward again, my brain foggy, limbs weak and … I looked down and saw the straps around my wrists.

I jerked violently on them as the nightmare of the belt became real.

“Just relax. We’ll let you go once you settle down.”

I choked on the sob screeching from my throat as the doctor’s words hit me. “No,” I cried and yanked on the straps, but everything was so heavy and slow. I couldn’t focus as the room blurred and the man standing beside the bed became what my mind was fighting to make him.

I heard something hard hit a wall outside the door and then the crash of what sounded like a metal tray with dishes hitting the floor.

A woman’s voice, “Oh, my God. Please. Don’t shoot me.”

“Then move out of my fuckin’ way.” The door burst open and the glare of the hallway lights blinded me for a few seconds. All I saw was a large shadow standing in the doorway.

I let the sobs take hold and tears streamed down my face.

His long strides reached me in seconds and I kept my eyes on him, afraid if I closed them, he’d disappear.

“Sir, she was violent and we—”

“What the fuck did you give her?” Deck put his hand on my arm, and with one pull, he ripped off the tape holding the catheter and tossed it aside. He leaned over and I heard the sleek sound of the knife pulled from its leather case.

“It was a mild sedative, but you can’t—”

He interrupted the nurse by saying nothing, merely giving her a hard glare. There was no fear with Deck. He didn’t think about the consequences; instead, he reacted to his instinct and didn’t back down from doing what he thought was best. It was one of the things I loved about him.

“Deck,” I cried.

“Yeah, baby.” He cut the straps on my wrists with one quick movement.

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say, because it was all I had.

Deck never said a word as he lifted me into his arms. My head fell against his shoulder, too weak to hold upright as the sedation took effect. Arms tight around me, a rag doll hanging limp in his hard, familiar arms.

I noticed he never looked at me.

He strode from the room, but I could hear running footsteps coming toward us.

“Mr. Ryan.” Deck’s arms tightened, but his stride never faltered as the doctor’s voice cut through the air following us.

“Mr. Ryan, she can’t leave. It’s the middle of the night. We haven’t discharged her—”

“Georgie, can you sit?” I sighed as a wave of comfort settled over me at the familiar sound of his voice.

I nodded.

He set me in one of the orange plastic chairs against the wall, his hands lingering on my hips as if making sure I was steady. Then he let me go and faced the doctor.

I saw the cold, piercing stare as he slowly pulled his gun from the holster. I could hear the click of the hammer and then the doc’s fumbling words as he put his hands up and stepped back. I also heard several gasps from the nurses.

“Whoa. You can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. I’m the one with the gun.”

“The police have been called …” I heard the shakiness in his voice and his eyes never left the barrel of the gun.