Tall, Dark & Lonely (Pyte/Sentinel #1)(38)

Ephraim turned his head in time to see Mike rush Chris with a large buck knife. “You little shit! This is your fault!”

Madison jumped in front of a very stunned Chris and pushed him back. Chris grabbed Madison and shoved her out of the way.

Ephraim reached out and grabbed Mike by the collar and yanked him back. Mike twirled around surprised by the sudden jolt. He collided into Ephraim. “Get her out of here now!” he yelled. Chris grabbed Madison and pulled her towards the door with a very frantic Mason on their heels.

He had Mike on his stomach and cuffed in less than a minute, leaving his lawyer utterly stunned. “I…I…I…” the lawyer rambled on.

“Good, very helpful thanks a lot,” Ephraim said sarcastically.

Mike tilted his head up and looked at Ephraim. “Oh shit….oh shit…I’m in so much trouble!”

Ephraim looked down at the black handle sticking out of his stomach. “Fuck,” he muttered. Just what he needed, a ride to the hospital for stitches he didn’t need just to make sure that this prick didn’t get away with it.

It also meant he had to put on a show. He couldn’t walk around like it was nothing. It wasn’t. It hurt like a bitch. The little shit. If the lawyer wasn’t in the room he would kill him.

Ephraim grabbed Mike by the arm. “Get up, ass**le. You’re under arrest.” He dragged Mike to the door and pushed him off onto another officer. Everyone’s eyes lowered to his stomach. He heard several gasps and a few “oh shits.”

He placed a hand over his stomach. “It’s fine. Just a little flesh wound,” he said though clenched teeth. At least he didn’t have to pretend how much it hurt.

Madison’s eyes widened and then rolled back. “Somebody catch her,” he said. She fell against Chris who did his best to lower her to the ground without hurting her. He would have caught her himself, but he was twenty feet away from her and people probably would have noticed him flashing to her. Sometimes it sucked to play human.

Chapter 9

“Stop squirming!” Mrs. Buckman snapped.

“You would squirm too if you had a mad woman trying to shove a bed pan under your ass! I told you that I can walk to the bathroom. I’m fine!”

Mrs. Buckman narrowed her eyes on him. “Fine.” She placed the offending bed pan under her arm, he didn’t want to know where she got it, and headed for the door. “Just so you know, I know the doctor ordered you to stay in that bed for a week so that’s exactly what you’ll be doing,” she threatened.

“Come on!” He threw his hands in the air.

“You heard me.”

“I can’t stay in bed for a week!” Ephraim said. The battle was lost and he knew it. Still he had to try.

She pointed at him. “You heard me.”

“Fine then, get the hell out of here and let me rest!”

She just pointed at him again before she left closing the door behind her. Her helpers were cowering in the hallway as they should be. He’d been screaming at everyone for the past week. They were scared of him and for good reason.

One whole week without blood. No, correction, one whole week stuck in the hospital with a healthy supply of blood and no way to get to it. It was pure hell, especially in his condition.

The little prick nicked both his heart and his lung with that knife. It would have been simple enough to handle. Three bags of blood would have been enough. Unfortunately, the rape charges against Mike were tricky enough without any testimony and they couldn’t press the battery charges since Carol still wasn’t talking. So, it fell on his shoulders to put the little prick away.

Attempted murder on a New Hampshire State Detective was no laughing matter. Mike was facing federal charges now. More importantly it would be a long time before he used his fist on another woman. That was the only reason Ephraim played along.

He had to pretend to be knocked out by the medication the doctors injected into his body when in reality that medicine was poison to him. Every single drop of medication had to be destroyed internally. The more they pumped in the weaker his blood ran until his veins were filled with nothing but poison. He reached that state four days ago.

That operating room was just a clean version of Nichols’ torture chamber. He had to force himself to remain limp while the poison burned his blood and the surgeons sliced him open. He felt every nick, every pull and prod. The pain was unreal. He didn’t know what was worse though, the medication or the surgery.

His only hope was a transfusion. New blood would have diluted the poison in his system. When that cocky surgeon announced that he wouldn’t require any transfusions because they'd stopped the bleeding he wanted to reach out and bitch slap him. He couldn’t. He had to pretend to be out. He was in so much pain that he began sweating.

The doctors took that as a sign of an impending fever and pumped more poison into his system. It successfully paralyzed him. Every movement set off fire in his body.

Blood, all he wanted was blood and no one would give it to him. He told them he was hungry and they brought him Jell-O and broth. What the hell kind of meal was that? After the second tray they tried forcing on him he began throwing the trays at the offending deliverer until they stopped bringing them.

So, for six days he was stuck in a hospital bed with no chance of escape. Tubes and monitors were stuck in him. On all four of his escape attempts the damn things went off and people came running. He almost cried. He needed to eat and a variable buffet came running in and he couldn’t have any of it. It was agony.