She busied herself then, fiddling around with some of the instruments on a metal table beside me. I couldn’t see what was there, but I recognized the sounds.
Since she was turned away somewhat, sorting out her torture devices, I focused more fully on escaping. Many years ago I’d dislocated my thumb during a fight, and ever since then, it had been looser, allowing me a wider range of movement. It wouldn’t help me get out of the bands—they felt high quality, with both a buckle and a strap holding me down—but I might have a shot at reaching my palm reader’s emergency call button. Jordan had programmed it to his number, and if he didn’t answer, Rafe’s. So if I could just get to that button...
“Not the right suturing kit,” I heard the nurse mutter, and I was a little distracted by that.
“What do you plan on doing with me?” I asked, hoping to both delay and distract her while I wiggled my thumb into position to hit that button.
She moved a little closer so I could see her deadpan expression more clearly. “I’m going to remove your IUD and install a tracking device. For your own safety of course.”
I cleared my throat, trying to stay reasonable. “And, uh, why are you removing my IUD? I only just got it in, and I’m pretty happy to keep it until I finish my studies. Babies and college are not the best mix, amiright?”
Joking was the perfect cover for the screaming terror I felt at her words. Also the fury. This cunt of a nurse better hope I never got free in her presence because she would no longer have working fingers to perform these atrocities on anyone.
She waved me off with a dry, unamused laugh. “You’ll be finished soon, and then you’ll be a wife. Your duty is to produce a strong, powerful heir. Anything else is unnecessary. Best to get started now too, just in case.”
I tried to murder her with my gaze, but she didn’t even notice, once again organizing her things. That was okay though; I’d finally wiggled and worked my aching thumb into the right position, and I pressed it as best I could against the button. I thought I heard the small click that indicated it had engaged, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Does Alex know you’re doing this?” I asked, trying my best to keep my breathing even. “Does he know that you’ve drugged and kidnapped me, holding me against my will in the medical wing? Because I don’t think my fiancé”—I choked over that word but got it out—“would be happy about me being treated like this.”
As I was shifting my finger back into a position that didn’t feel like it was being dislocated, I paused as I scraped over the buckle. Shit, it wasn’t as sophisticated as I’d originally thought. It was actually one I’d had used on me by my sensei before, and I knew how to get free.
I’d just need a few minutes.
“Call Alex here right now,” I said, trying to sound more forceful than I felt. “I’m the future leader of the Australasians, and it’s in your best interest not to piss me off.”
She paused, like that fact hadn’t occurred to her at all. With a annoyed huff, she lifted her palm reader and dialed a number.
Alex answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Your Highness,” the nurse said primly. “Could you please meet me at medical wing five?”
There was an extended pause, and then a simple. “Yes.” before Alex hung up.
Meanwhile, I now had extra incentive to get my ass out of here before my “fiancé” showed up. He was probably the one who’d set this bitch up to ripping my shit out, and I’d find no rescue there.
Not that I needed one. Violet Spencer had been born of despair, and I no longer believed in fairy tales.
Especially when they pertained to princes.
Give me the devil any day.
It took Alex all of two minutes to make it to the room, and he must have sprinted the entire way because he was breathing heavily, and considering how fit he was... At this point I was almost certain that my distress call hadn’t gone out, but since I’d managed to get the first loop of the strap off by scratching at it with my thumb, it was all okay.
When Alex saw me strapped to the bed, he turned his glare on the nurse.
“What the hell are you doing to her?”
She huffed again, crossing her arms over her chest. “Exactly what I was ordered to do. Violet must have her IUD removed and a tracker implanted.”
Alex crossed his arms too, and I was surprised to see some rage on his face. “Ordered by whom?”
She blinked, and I was cursing my lack of head movement because I could only see a small sliver of both their faces.
“By your parents of course,” she said stiffly. “And the dean. Final approvals for all medical go through him.
It looked like Alex took a menacing step toward her with fists clenched, but I couldn’t quite tell from my angle. “And what if I told you to stop right now?”
This question was delivered coldly with barely any emotion in his voice. You could have knocked me out with a fucking swift breeze, though, I was so stunned.
Was he actually trying to help me? What in the fuck?
She twittered about, grabbing up some paperwork and thrusting it at him. “I’m sorry; the orders come from above your head.”
Alex swung around to glare at me, and I could see in his expression that he was saying this was my own fault for not conforming. For not falling in line.
“Just…” He cleared his throat. “Just don’t hurt her. Be gentle.”
Then the fucker turned and left the room.
Well, fuck. He hadn’t done or said anything I’d expected from him, but at the same time, he’d just left me here. He could have helped, but he’d chosen not to rock the boat.
Well, fuck him. Like I’d said before, I wasn’t waiting to be rescued. I had this shit sorted.
At that second, I freed the strap completely, and I held my breath as it fell loose and clinked against the metal side of the bed. Thankfully, in the same moment, the nurse grabbed her equipment tray, the clink of instruments hiding the sound of the strap.
“I promise it won’t hurt,” she said as she moved closer to my legs. “I will numb you up completely before removing the device and inserting the tracker.”
“Mighty fucking big of you,” I said, letting all my sarcasm fly free. “You’re a regular saint.”
She focused on me like she was trying to figure out if I was being serious or not before shaking her head and moving down to my left leg. She started to unstrap that buckle, needing to move my legs further apart to do her thing. This distraction, though, gave me the perfect opportunity to reach up with my now free hand and unstrap my head. As soon as that was free, I did my other hand, all in the same amount of time it took this dumb bitch to get my ankle free.
Oh well, she’d saved me from having to do that in a second.
When she straightened, reaching out for the long-assed needle that was perched in a metal tray, I swung into action, cracking her right on the temple hard enough to knock her to the ground and hopefully into unconsciousness for a few minutes.
By the time she hit the floor, I’d already started working on my strapped ankle, and when she staggered back to her feet, I was on mine too, ass hanging out, hospital gown on, and the knowledge that she’d undressed me strong in my mind.
“How fucking dare you,” I snarled. “You should be ashamed to call yourself a woman.”
Stepping into her, I cracked her again, this time on her shoulder blade. She cried out, crashing backward and sending her tray of torture tools flying.
“Women should never hurt each other; we have enough trouble protecting ourselves from the men in this world who want to dominate and control us,” I said, taking a step after her as she scrambled to her feet.
“I’m just following orders,” she cried, trembling in front of me.
It was a front though, a distraction as she reached for the needle that had fallen down.
She underestimated me though. No way would I let her get the drop on me again.
Moving faster than she expected, I got to the needle before her, lifting it and jamming it straight into her thigh. She cried out, but I didn’t plunge the liquid into her. Nope, I jerked the needle to the right and broke the tip off, leaving it embedded in her leg.
The nurse screamed, clawing at the puncture wound, and I took the chance to smash my fist into her face again. And again. I did this over and over, burning rage fueling my blows, and it wasn’t until I saw the red on my hands that I registered exactly what I was doing.
"Shit," I cursed, forcing myself to release Nurse Reller and gagging when her head hit the floor with a sickening thump. "Oh fuck. Fuck. No, no, no, this is bad. This is really freaking bad."
I'd only ever lost control like that twice before. Once before I’d had any formal fight training, and once after I discovered Alex’s betrayal.
Swallowing past my panic, I reached out and felt around for the nurse's pulse, sagging in relief when I found it.
"Holy shit," I gasped, wiping my face on the sleeve of my robe. Sitting back on my feet, I reached for my palm reader and firmly pressed down the emergency button. Surely wherever Jordan—or Rafe—were at this time of night, they shouldn't be more than a few minutes away.
The thought crossed my mind that if someone walked into the infirmary and found me crouched over the nurse's bloody, beaten form, it might not look so good. It might look like exactly what it was. I'd just beaten the school nurse half to death, and now I needed help from my two playboy princes to cover it up.