He sits us down in the far corner, with two more men caging us in. I glare at Suzie. She ignores me, giggling and flirting with T. I swear, when we get out of here, I’m going to kick her ass.
“So, sweet cheeks, why don’t you come sit on my lap and get a little more comfortable?” says the guy with a huge beard and a nasty-looking cut under his eye, patting his knee. I curl my lip in disgust.
“No thanks, I’m good. Plus, that cut looks infected. I don’t want to be near it.”
His dirty fingers run over the cut, and he winces. “You know about this shit?” he asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m a nurse,” I answer, while requesting a cab again.
“Yo, Benny!” he calls. I look up from my phone. “We got one!” He points to me.
I frown, glancing back and forth to this Benny, whoever he is. “Got one what?” I ask.
The bearded guy grabs my elbow. “We need your assistance,” he orders, dragging me from my seat.
“Get your hands offme,” I snap.
He grips my arm tighter. “You will do as I say, girl, or you won’t be leaving here tonight,” he growls in my ear, his breath smelling like rotten meat.
“Ugh, Jesus. Floss much?” I retch.
“Tell your friend you are fine and will be back in a minute. Do as you’re told, and all will be okay,” he warns me.
“Okay, but if you try to rape me or kiss me with that breath, we’re going to have a problem,” I point out, leaning back and covering my nose.
“Just fucking move,” he orders.
“Where are you going, Evelynn?” Suzie asks, a worried look in her eyes.
“Just to get him a breath mint,” I joke.
Suzie laughs and rolls her eyes at me. I swear to God, I am never speaking to her again after this.
Ass-breath drags me through the back of the warehouse, down a narrow hall to a locked room. He unlocks it and shoves me inside. The stench of rotten flesh and vomit overwhelms me.
“Holy crap,” I heave, covering my nose and mouth. They switch the light on to reveal a guy with his chest bandaged, looking close to death.
“Fix him,” bad-bearded-breath orders.
Before I can ask any further questions, the guyslams the door, making me jump. The sound of the lock clicking into place makes my eyes go wide. Immediately, I storm over and pound my fists on it.
“Hey! Let me out of here!” I yell. “Assholes!”
The guy behind me groans. “Help me, please,” he rasps.
I pause, turning around to look at him. Pain is etched across his sweat-covered face, and God damn it, I walk over and slowly lift the bandage. Immediately, the smell of rotten flesh intensifies, and I flinch back, covering my face with my hand.
“You need a hospital. I can’t do anything for you here,” I mumble behind my hand, trying my best not to throw up.
“Please,” he begs again.
I look around the room for supplies. Finding one of their gang bandanas, I wrap it around my face to block out the smell. I search further, opening cupboards and drawers. Only more bandages and rubbing alcohol. I roll my eyes. He needs IV antibiotics. I perch on the side of the bed next to him and brace myself, slowly peeling back the bandage. I force myself not to react to the smell and focus on tending to the wound. I frown, never having seen a wound like this before.
“How did you do this?” I ask.
“Fight,” he breathes.
My eyes trail over the marks. It looks like he’s been clawed, and the main wound almost looks like something bit a chunk out of him. The flesh around the edge of the wound is black; not dried blood, just black.
