Page 23 of The Devil’s Escape (The Devil’s Soldiers #7)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AVERY
Are we safe here? Or are we in more danger than ever?
Instead of taking us to the hospital, they take us to the Devil’s Soldiers clubhouse.
I want to argue, but I’m too focused on keeping an eye on the man passed out beside me.
His breathing is rapid, and I can see the blood and pus coming from the wounds on his back.
I don’t know how the hell he’s still alive, and I have to hope that what I gave him is enough.
I haven’t gotten this far to have him die on me now. Worry fills me as the car slides to a stop in front of the old saloon-looking building.
“Get Medic now!” a voice screams outside the vehicle before doors are thrown open and I see Shadow and Viper both coming to help haul Hulk out. Hulk only groans weakly at the movements.
Men rush forward, barking orders, moving fast to get things out of the way, and then I see someone rush out of the clubhouse, a stethoscope around his neck. Is he a doctor? Is that why they call him Medic?
“Get him inside, belly down on the bed,” Medic barks, all business. His eyes find me. “You’re the nurse?” I nod. “Good, you’re going to help me.” I want to argue, that I need to talk to my brother and sister, but my sense of duty tells me that I need to do this.
I battle the concern for Hulk and the terror for my siblings. Sometimes this job fucking sucks.
When I reach the medical room, I’m surprised to see just how well it’s set up.
Hulk is lying down on his stomach on the bed, and Medic barks, “Everyone out, now. None of you are fucking sterile and I’m not about to lose him to any of the shit you’re carrying with you.
Viper, wheel Cobra out of here. We need space.
” He looks at me, sea-green eyes intense, as he adds, “You need to get out of that shirt. I have a scrub shirt in the cabinet in the second drawer. Put it on. Then we need to get to work.”
It’s a bit chaotic as everyone leaves, another person in the other bed in the room is wheeled out, and I quickly strip out of my shirt and into a scrub shirt that barely fits.
Finally, it’s only Medic and I in the room, and I quickly realize a couple of things.
Medic is an excellent doctor, and we work well together as a team.
Medic sedates Hulk, and then we get to work on sterilizing each wound and stitching him up as best we can.
“I gave him a heavy dose of antibiotics before we escaped,” I tell him when we finally finish that task. “I might have given him a little too much, but it was a bit rushed.”
“He’s probably going to need all that he can get,” Medic says absently as he starts to clean up the blood covering Hulk’s back.
We get to work, and the quiet gives me just enough breath and space to think.
The last twenty-four hours have been intense, and the fear of what I just did hits me hard, making my hands shake a little bit as I work on stitching Hulk up.
I force those thoughts down. That’s a later worry.
I need to focus on Hulk. Then I need to find my brother and sister and make sure they’re okay.
I glance at Hulk when he twitches, though he doesn’t wake.
His mouth twists in a grimace, and I want to reach out and soothe him.
Instead, I lean down and murmur soft reassurances in his ear.
He settles, a small sound coming from his lips, but I can’t make it out.
When I look back, Medic glances at me, but he doesn’t comment, just continues his own work.
I refuse to be embarrassed. Hulk and I have been through a lot, and I care about him in a weird way. Perhaps a near-death experience does that to you.
“I also gave him some pain meds. Morphine, to be specific.”
When we finally finish, Medic snaps off his gloves and warns, “The next few days are going to be the toughest. I’m probably going to keep him sedated as much as I can.”
“He didn’t want me to give him too much whenever I was there,” I remark, looking down at Hulk’s slack face.
I can’t resist reaching out to gently brush away some of the hair that’s fallen over his forehead, brushing against one of the cuts that still needs to be cleaned and possibly stitched.
“I just had the feeling that he didn’t want me to put him out so much that he said or couldn’t defend himself or something.
” I don’t even look at Medic as I turn to grab a stool and roll it forward so I can get to work on cleaning up his face.
I wonder what it looks like when it’s not beaten and bruised. Still, even like this he’s very good-looking. If this were a different circumstance, I’d give him a couple second looks.
“That sounds like Hulk,” Medic agrees, reaching to grab a pair of scissors. “I’m going to cut off his pants as much as I can to make sure that he’s not injured anywhere here as well.”
“I gave him a couple of shots in the ass, but I didn’t check,” I say absently, focused intently on my task and not causing Hulk anymore pain.
“His ribs are bruised or possibly cracked, though. They had some brass knuckles that they were using, and his entire side is black and blue.” When I look over at Medic, his eyes are blazing with anger over his mask, but he nods.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be abrupt about this stuff,” I say carefully, watching him. “I just…”
I don’t want to come across as too blunt, but I have to explain. That’s who I am. This a medical room and I have to stay in control. I refuse to break down now.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” Medic returns, and some of the anger eases from his eyes as he looks at me.
“All of us are grateful to you, Avery, for everything you’ve done to get him here.
We’re pissed that he was there in the first place, but now he’s back and we’ll get him through this.
I also need to know everything, or I can’t treat him effectively.
So tell me everything you remember and saw.
Then we’ll make a course of treatment. The hardest part is his ribs because right now he’s on his stomach, and we’re going to have to turn him over, but we need to get these marks to close and heal as much as we can too.
” He starts cutting through Hulk’s pants once he gets his boots and socks off.
“And we’ll have to bathe him.” I’m used to all kinds of smells, but who knows what’s hiding under all the blood and cuts.
Medic nods. “Will you be alright to bathe him when we get this finished? I need to get this room adjusted to house him and the other guy.”
I nod. “He’s going to need a couple of stitches on his face.”
“You have experience with that?”
“I’ve learned, but normally the doctors like to do them.”
“If you’re okay to do them, you go ahead. You seem more than capable.” I can see the lift of his cheeks from behind his mask to know he’s smiling at me. “And if you give him a scar, we’ll just remind him that it makes him look rugged instead of so much like a pretty boy.”
I chuckle. “I’m pretty good at them. I had an older doctor spend time teaching me and showing me tricks to keep it from scarring too badly. Just have to hope I remember them.” He directs me to where to get the stitches and then we both get back to work in silence.
The routine of it helps steady me, and I find myself paying extra care to doing this. I feel in control again. I won’t break down.
When I finish, I ease back and assess my work. Clean, tight, and exactly as the doctor taught me. Looks like I haven’t lost my touch. I reach out and gently brush away some of the crusty blood around one of the stitched wounds. Yeah, he’ll be back to charming the ladies in no time.
Medic moves to stand next to me and says, “You did a great job, Avery. Thank you. Without your help, this would have taken far longer, and I’d have been snapping at people to help me and probably doing more damage than good.”
I pull my mask off and toss out my gloves.
“I’m just glad he’s alive. I…I did think a couple of times that I saw him, he would be dead.
When I walked in and didn’t see him straight away, I thought I was too late.
” I give him a wry smile. “Instead, he was walking around with that chair chained to him and trying to grab something he could use to try and pick the lock while hurting himself in the process. Is he always that stubborn?”
Medic chuckles. “Hulk is a big ole teddy bear, but when he sets his mind to something, there is no stopping him. So yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Aaaaannnngellll,” Hulk suddenly slurs, making us both stop and look over at him in surprise.
I glance at Medic, who rolls his eyes. “Trust the stubborn bastard to fight the sedative.”
“Annnngelll,” Hulk says again, this time a bit more insistent, and I instantly move forward.
“Shhhh,” I soothe, putting my hand gently on his shoulder. “You’re alright, take it easy, big guy.”
His eyes shoot open, bleary, glazed, but he turns his head to look up at me, a frantic look on his face. “Angellll,” he breathes out, his eyes holding mine. “You ’kay?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him softly. I stiffen but force myself to relax when he reaches up a hand to take mine and bring it to the side of his face.
I manage to spread my fingers, so I don’t press on any of the newly stitched cuts.
“You’re safe now. And you’re back with your club.
Medic is going to take really good care of you. ”
“Stay,” he whispers, watching me. “Please. Need my angel.” Then his eyes close, and he’s out again, his hand never releasing mine.