Page 44 of Prophet
“You think?” Deacon asked in that cold voice of his.
“Sir, without an x-ray,” Fedor explained. “I can’t be sure.”
Again silence, then I felt his fingers brush my cheek. Revulsion rolled through me but I tried hard not to move even an eyelash. Maybe I did have a concussion as my head hurt like hell, but I couldn’t care right now. I needed to keep this passed out act up as long as I could. I didn’t know if I could stave off my inner terror if I actually looked into those eyes of his again. That had been the very first thing that had bothered me about him when he tried to flirt with me in the parking lot at the strip club. Those eyes. He could be smiling but it never reached his gaze. The look he had in them remained like ice, like he had no warmth in him at all.
“You had her wrists tied and that is why she fell, isn’t it, Maxim?” Deacon asked quietly.
“I think so, boss,” Maxim replied.
“You think so?” Deacon repeated. “You all do any thinking on your own and this shit happens. And why did you tie her wrists?”
“She was struggling,” Maxim answered.
I was, he had a point there.
“And she weighs all of 125 pound soaking wet, you dumb oaf,” Deacon seethed. “You are six foot six and over 300 pounds. So, you are telling me she was getting the best of you?”
“No sir,” Maxim answered meekly.
Next, I heard few steps and a loud crunching sound, then a pain filled grunt. Then more sounds that were definitely of the violent kind and then a thump hitting the floor that was extremely loud as my body even jumped a little from it.
“That is someone getting the best of you, fucker!” Deacon stated in that same low tone to a now quiet room, except for the groaning Maxim must have been doing.
“Take him out of here,” Deacon ordered. “To the pain room.”
“Nooo,” Maxim groaned out. “Net, please boss—?”
Scuffling and shuffling noises echoed through the room as I could hear heavy steps by other men. It grew louder then it went silent as the sounds moved away.
“Untie her wrists,” Deacon ordered.
Someone stepped close and I felt a tug on my hands as the zipties were cut, relieving me from the biting plastic.
“Fuck,” Deacon whispered. “There are red marks on her wrists. Can’t anyone do what I say?”
“Calm down, D,” another voice spoke.
I knew it was female and this did surprise me as I continued to lay very still.
“They are fucking morons, Vi,” Deacon said. “I don’t know why she hired them.”
“For the army D, you know that,” Vi replied patiently.
“I do, but we need mercenaries that have brains in their heads,” Deacon went on. “I never told him to cuff her, let alone toss her down a flight of stairs.”
“Stay calm D, please?” the woman urged in a soft soothing voice. “Dr. Fedor, how bad is she hurt?”
“I asked him already,” Deacon cut in. “And he is useless like most so called physicians. Hethinksshe has a concussion,” he emphasized the word ‘think’ with a scoffing tone.
“And you are allowing her to sleep?” Vi asked.
“The patient can sleep,” Fedor answered her. “It is an old myth that you are concerned with.”
“Did she speak?” Deacon asked.
“Speak?” Fedor repeated.
“Yes, you moron.” Deacon sounded disgusted all over again. “Did you or Maxim have any kind of conversation with her? Once she hit her head.”
