Page 18 of Dr. Danger

Darren

I’m in a haze when I unbuckle Avon's seatbelt in a rush, my heart pounding like a drumbeat in my ears. ”I’m here,” I rasp. ”I’ve got you.”

”G…gift,” Avon stammers and I frown. She reaches for a box, her arms trembling from the lack of strength. ”To say I’m s…sorry.”

My heart jolts as if electrified and it hurts bad enough for me to squeeze my eyes. ”You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re the most wonderful girl in the world. You’re made out of clouds and cinnamon,” I grit between my teeth. ” I’m going to get you out of here.”

She feels so frail in my arms as I haul her out of the wreckage and onto my motorcycle. Her body is limp against mine, her skin cold and clammy. Every moment feels like an eternity as I urge the bike to go faster, tearing through the road back to my clinic.

Avon slumps against me, her head lolling, and I can't bear to see her like this. I keep telling her to hang on, promising that we'll make it, but her eyes flutter weakly, barely registering my words. The weight of fear settles in my chest like a boulder as I speed towards the clinic, the traffic whipping past us.

Finally, we reach the clinic. I practically throw open the doors, carrying Avon inside. My hands are steady as I lay her down on the examination table, but inside, I'm trembling. I check her pulse, feeling it weak and thready beneath my fingers. I inspect her mouth, smelling her breath, checking she doesn’t have anything obstructing her throat.

Time is slipping away. I’m going to have to pump her stomach then orally administer several doses of potassium ferric hexacyanoferrate. I plead with her to fight, to stay with me. Her eyes flutter, and panic rises in my throat. I grasp her hand, squeezing tightly.

"I love you," I whisper, the words escaping before I can even comprehend saying them aloud. I've never said those words to anyone before, but in this moment, they spill out like a desperate prayer. ”Don’t leave me.”

Fight!

Avon's lips move faintly, barely audible. "I love you too," she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper, turning my emotions into pure chaos.

And then her eyes close…

Epilogue

Fluorescent lights flicker overhead as I stride down the hallways of the hospital, my white coat billowing with each step. I look every bit the part of a concerned doctor, I look like I work here. But I don’t. My heart is steady, my expression calm. This…I’m going to enjoy.

I approach the door to Room 222, pausing briefly to glance at the chart hanging outside. The name alone makes my blood simmer. I push open the door and step inside, my demeanor shifting to one of professional concern.

Joe lies in the bed, bandages wrapped around his head, his eyes wide with confusion. He woke up from his coma just a few hours ago, and now he’s helpless, vulnerable. Perfect. This should be easy.

“Good evening,” I say softly, walking closer. “How are we feeling today?”

Joe opens his mouth to reply but then his eyes widen, recognition dawning. He starts to struggle, his movements awkward and uncoordinated. He remembers me. He knows why I’m here.

“Stay calm,” I murmur, my voice soothing. “It’ll be over soon.”

His attempts to speak are muffled by the tube in his throat. Panic overtakes him, but he’s too weak to fight back. I lean in close, ensuring that my face is the last thing he sees. His eyes bulge with terror as my hand closes around his throat, squeezing with a controlled, lethal pressure.

“This is for Avon,” I whisper, my voice cold as ice. “You didn’t really think I’d let you live, did you?”

Joe’s struggles weaken, his body going limp under my grip. I hold on a moment longer, just for the fun of it. Then I straighten up, adjusting my coat. I glance around the room, making sure everything appears undisturbed, and slip out of the door as casually as I entered.

I walk down the hallway, my steps light and innocent. The hospital is busy, staff and patients moving about their routines, none of them paying any attention to me. I pass by a nurse’s station, offering a polite nod. She nods back, not realizing I have no business being here.

Exiting the hospital, I breathe in the cool night air and allow myself a small, satisfied smile. That bitch Malva is in prison for life and Joe, well…he’s taken care of now too.

The ride back to Weston Manor runs smoothly. The roads are deserted, and I I think of Avon. I always think of Avon. She’s safe now. Nobody will ever hurt her.

Parking my bike near the front steps, I enter the manor. It’s quiet, the staff sleeping soundly in their quarters. I make my way up to the lobby, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. The house feels different now than when I first came here. Now it’s a home.

I reach our bedroom, pushing the door open gently. Avon stirs in bed, her eyes fluttering open as she senses my presence. She looks at me with a sleepy smile, and these days she’s strong. Healthy. Her whole life is ahead of her and she’s going to spend it with me.

“Darren,” she murmurs, her voice a soft, drowsy whisper.

I smile, kicking off my boots and shedding my clothes. The bed dips as I slide in beside her, the warmth of her body worth killing for. I lean over, brushing a gentle kiss against her lips, feeling her respond with a soft sigh.

”A few hours without you and I feel like I go insane,” I rasp, my lids fluttering.

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