Page 3 of Runaway Hearts: Seduced by Danger

“You’re safe now, Chloe,” I say, my voice a soothing balm against the frantic noises of the ER. “I’ll take care of you.”

As I work to treat the girl’s injuries, a bitter flavor coats my mouth.

I nod my chin toward the two young men, slightly injured and cuffed to a bench near the entrance of the ER, who came in with her and her friend. “These two?”

She dips her head and looks away. The guys’ postures scream their arrogance, from the cocky smile to the way they sit large, knees wide apart, arms stretched on the backrest. They’re local gang members, probably. Or worse, like members of the Kwunarus.

My skin prickles with unease at the thought of the ruthless Japanese organization that controls criminal activities around here. In Palco Springs, most drug users I see in the ER are somehow connected to a sub-dealer under Kwunarus’ control. Even the prostitutes who pass through here are under their influence. However, they tend to keep to themselves and stay out of sight in our quiet town.

Like faceless whispers of a nightmare.

Then, the two attackers possibly aren’t affiliated with them because, one, what they did causes attention, and two, they got caught. If I were running a mob, I wouldn’t want loud pieces of shit like this in my crew.

So, local gang, it is.

However, this girl doesn’t show any signs of drug use or marks of association with any criminal group. It means she was attacked for simply saying no, as a display of pure masculine egomania.

I already guessed the answer from the teenage girl, but it’s part of the job to ask. “You wanna press charges?” I sigh. “I can assist you.”

A derisive scoff exits her nose, but it ends up with a grunt. “No way.”

Vacation by the sea.

While I work, a familiar tightness grips my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.

“Report me, princess?” Eric sneered. “For what? Making my girlfriend behave? That’s glorious. Just take a pill; it’ll help you push these bad thoughts away.”

In a flash, my eyes burn from unshed tears, and memories crash into each other in my head.

A condescending snort flew out his nose. “Like I’m the bad guy here. Jeez. None of this would’ve happened if you said yes right from the bat.”

Vacation, vacation, vacation!

But a sudden roll of her eyes stills my hands trying to install the IV as if she wandered far away despite lying right there. Her fingers begin to twitch, and a subtle, rapid movement is barely noticeable. Then her muscles tense, every fiber of her body straining as if responding to an invisible force. A low, involuntary murmur escapes her lips. She shakes, and her breathing grows shallow and irregular. A brief, sharp gasp breaks the quiet, followed by her body convulsing, each spasm more violent than the last.

I push down my anxious thoughts, focusing on what needs to be done. With practiced hands, I stabilize her head and clear the surrounding area to prevent further injury.

“She’s having a seizure. Get me a tongue depressor and a towel!” I bark, my voice cutting through the chaos of the emergency room.

People rush to fetch the supplies as I continue to assess the girl’s condition.

But her entire body stiffens, muscles locking as if gripped by an invisible vise. Her face contorted in agony, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Blood trickles from the corner of her mouth, a stark redagainst her pale skin. Her breathing becomes shallow gasps punctuated by longer pauses.

Shit, that’s internal bleeding.

“Get Dr. Evans. Now!” I scream as I push the red button.

I carefully position the girl on her side, ensuring her airway remains clear. My fingers probe for the source of the blood, finding a deep bruise on her abdomen. My touch is firm but gentle, assessing the extent of the injury without causing additional pain.

The desperation in my heart is overwhelming, and I beg silently, pleading for the universe to let her survive. She doesn’t deserve to suffer or die because she refused herself.

Just like me...

Every fiber of my being is screaming at her to hold on, to fight, to cling to life with all her might.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion as I gently stroke her hair. “You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing.”

But doubts creep into my mind as I count the irregular, shallow breaths.

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