Page 10 of Save Me

An hour drags by, each second feeling like an eternity as I lie here, broken and bruised on the frigid floor.Zavier didn’t even bother to offer a helping hand. Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps resonates from the stairs, gradually growing louder. I strain my ears, recognizing the voice of the man I encountered earlier. The sound gives me a sliver of hope.

With great effort, I pry open my eyes, only to feel his arms gently slide beneath me, lifting my fragile form. A groan escapes my lips as sharp pains shoot through my battered body. I gasp, inhaling a quick breath, as he tenderly places me on the floor, my back leaning against the cold, rough wall. Sitting beside me, he retrieves medical supplies from a white pharmacy bag, the crinkle of the plastic breaking the heavy silence that envelops us.

The air hangs heavy with unspoken words, the only sound now being the rustling of the bag as he carefully tends to my wounds.

I break the suffocating silence, my voice hoarse from the dryness in my throat by confronting him about something I overheard him saying to Zavier earlier. “What kind of doctor are you?” I ask, my words hanging in the air.

“What?” He pauses his movements, his eyes meeting mine with a perplexed look etched on his face.

“I heard you earlier, saying that you’re not ‘that kind’ of doctor…so, what kind of doctor are you?”

As he gently wraps a bandage around my hand, a reminder of the fall down the stairs, he finally responds, “Oh, um, I’m a psychologist.” I nod, deciding not to delve into any further personal questions. It wouldn’t serve any purpose anyway. But before I can stop myself, the words escape my lips. “You have to help me get out of here, please.” His eyes meet mine, filled with a sense of defeat. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, rising to his feet. He hands me a small white pill and a bottle of water. “This is, well, it’s like an abortion pill. You had a miscarriage, and this is to ensure everything is expelled. Zavier will provide you with pain medication as needed.”

I nod, my tears obscuring my vision as I carefully open the water bottle and swallow the pill. I gaze up at him, my eyes pleading for his understanding. He gives me one last glance before I stop him from leaving. “Oh, um, what’s your name?” I stammer. He turns back, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip. “Dane,”he responds softly. Without another word, he turns and disappears up the creaky steps.

Chapter8

ARGENT

*PRESENT*

As I pull upto the warehouse gates, the disgust on Adrian’s face is impossible to miss. Despite my desire to handle this alone, he insisted on joining me. Nodding at the guards, I watch them swing open the heavy gates, allowing me to drive through. The sight before us is far from glamorous, prompting Adrian to sarcastically comment, “What a palace you have here.”

Suppressing my irritation, I give him a scrutinizing glance, meeting his eye, “Yeah well, I can’t exactlymake it stand out. Might as well put a sign up that says ‘Drugs and weapons sold here’.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, smartass.” He retorts with a roll of his eyes, causing a chuckle to escape me. Bringing the car to a stop, we both step out and approach the imposing doors of the warehouse. Just before entering, I place my hand firmly on Adrian’s chest, halting him in his tracks.

“Don’t go around pissing anyone off and getting yourself killed, alright?” I warn. He responds with a teasing joke, his chuckle filling the air.

“Oh, are you afraid my sister will castrate you and wear your testicles as earrings?” Meeting his jest with a serious expression, I reply, “Exactly.” With that, I give him one last stern look before knocking on the cold metal doors.

As I walked into the warehouse, a few employees paused from their work to offer friendly greetings. Nodding at them, I walk past, feeling Adrian’s presence close behind me as we make our way to the office Joe and I share. You'll find a cluster of offices at the back of the warehouse, tucked away in the corner.

Two are situated on the left side, while another one is located further down on the right. The two on the left are where we handle all the paperwork for the stock and orders of the outgoing drugs and weapons. It’s a busy and organized area, with shelves lined with labeled containers and the sound of printers constantly humming. With the fluorescent light barely providing any illumination, we walked down to the last door and knocked on it with a stern expression.

“This isn’t creepy at all,” Adrian whines from behind, his voice echoing off the dimly lit walls. I shoot him a side-eye, irritated by his lack of composure. Just then, the door abruptly swings open, creaking on its rusty hinges.

“Hey, kid. It’s been a while,” Joe exclaims, his voice deep and gravelly. He steps aside, revealing the dimly lit office space beyond. A faint smell of must and old cigars wafts through the air.

“Afternoon, Joe. How’s things been here? No fuck ups... yet?” I reply, attempting to keep my tone light. Joe chuckles, his laughter filling the room. “Who’s this?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and pointing towardsAdrian. Adrian’s face turns pale, his eyes wide with fear. Suppressing a laugh, I dismiss Joe’s curiosity.

“A good friend of mine,” I say, my voice steady. In this world, names hold power, and it’s safer to stay anonymous.

Taking a seat in one of the worn chairs in front of Joe’s rusty old desk, I speak sternly. “Listen, Joe, I came to find out if any of the guys might have known who the snake was who stole from us.” I pause, allowing the weight of my words to sink in. Joe leans back in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk, and replies, “I told you, no one knew the guy. He was nameless, like all the men we employ.” His words hang in the air, filled with resignation.

“He’s involved,” I state firmly, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back in my chair. The room grows still, the only sound being the faint hum of an old ceiling fan. Joe sighs, his weariness evident.

“Oh, well, I’ll see what I can find out among the guys, but I can’t promise that anything will come of it,” he finally says. With that, he rises from his chair and heads towards the door. “I have a meeting with a potential client, kid, and it was a pleasure meeting you,” he says,extending a hand to Adrian for a firm shake. Adrian’s hand trembles slightly as he returns the gesture. Joe exits the office, leaving us alone in the dimly lit room.

With a heavy sigh, I rise from my worn-out leather seat, feeling the weight of exhaustion in my bones. But before I can make it to the door, a short, thin man abruptly comes to a halt in front of the doorway, his footsteps scuffing against the worn-out carpet. I eye him with a raised brow, the creases on my forehead deepening as I try to decipher his intentions.

“Can I help you?” I ask, my voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. I can see the poor guy stare up at me, his eyes widening with nervousness. He stammers, his words escaping his mouth in a rush as if he’s afraid of being interrupted.

“Uh, well, maybe I can helpyou,” he informs, his voice trembling. I shift my gaze to Adrian, silently communicating our shared confusion. With a subtle nod, I gesture for the man to continue.

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. “The guy you’re talking about, well, I overheard a phone call he had when he wasstill here. I might have heard him referring to what his name was to whoever he spoke to on the phone.”

My heart quickens its pace, anticipation coursing through my veins as the possibility of a breakthrough looms before me. Adrian’s frustration seeps into his tone as he interjects, “Well, what is it?”

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