Page 3 of The Devil and I
She'll be safest at my house a couple hours North, but I'll need to stabilize her and stop the bleeding before I can attempt the drive. Letting her die in my cruiser during the drive home isn't an option, either.
With her wounded arm wrapped tightly in my shirt, the girl is stable enough to be moved. I lean down and slip my arms underneath her, gently lifting her into my embrace and settling her against my chest. I draw her close against my body, which allows her delicate, ambrosial scent to hit me hard. It is tainted with the addictive, coppery notes of blood, which is intoxicating enough to make me sway on my feet. Combined with the feel of her soft, curvy body settling against me, I can't stop the groan that rumbles up from deep in my chest.
A hint of shame washes over me in the wake of my visceral response to her body. The girl is obviously knocking on death's door, but I am a slave to the monster within. I can't ignore what I feel with her in my arms. She looks so frail. Every instinct in me is screaming to protect her. I cradle her a little closer as I maneuver us through the bush and back out onto the trail, holding on to her like she is the most prized possession I've ever found.
I shake my head to clear it before I start jogging back in the direction of the parking lot, trying my best not to jostle her too much as we move. Thankfully, she didn't wander too deep into the woods. It doesn't take long before I am turning the final corner on the trail and stepping out into the empty parking lot. I don't slow down until I reach my cruiser, ignoring the burn of overexertion in my lungs.
With some careful shifting, I reach into my pocket, pull the keys free and unlock the car. It's a relief that I made it here so quickly. I lower myself slightly to grab the door handle, pulling it open so I can get her settled in the passenger seat. With the utmost care, I lower the nameless girl into the car seat. As soon as I feel the loss of her weight in my arms, I regret having to put her down at all. The knowledge that I have to leave her here to get the first aid kit from my trunk makes me want to growl in protest. The foreign feeling surprises me, but I don't slow down to contemplate what it means.
She sinks down into the passenger seat with a gentle groan, rousing lightly back into consciousness. My eyes drop to her full lips, which part slightly to reveal her slightly imperfect teeth. I reach out to brush my thumb against her plump lower lip, unable to resist the urge to touch her.
“Don't worry, you're safe,” I say to her softly, despite the fact that she seems to slip back out of awareness almost immediately. Reluctantly drawing my hand away from her adorable mouth, I leave her briefly to pop my trunk and pull out the standard issue first aid kit kept there. Returning to her side with a deep, steadying breath, I set the kit down and pop it open.
Kneeling on the hard ground next to her, I begin to set out everything I'll need to flush and wrap her wound. I need to make this quick so I can get us on the road. Whatever I do here will need to hold out until I can get us home and get it properly dressed. As I carefully unwrap my shirt from her forearm, I wince as thick lines of blood spill out from the angry line of split skin. With the pressure off, I need to work quickly. I grab a bottle of saline solution and flush the wound. As soon as I set the saline down, I press a clean towel over the wound and wait for it to absorb some of the liquid. I'll get some medical grade suture tape on the wound once I get her home, but for now, a tight wrap will have to do.
Tossing the bloodied towel aside, I immediately replace it with an oversized pad of thick gauze. Without hesitation, I begin to wrap her arm. Tight enough to stop the bleeding, but not tight enough to cut off blood circulation to her hand. Hopefully in the two hours it will take to get to my home up North, blood clotting will have set in to make it easier for me to properly treat and dress it.
With her arm securely wrapped, I clean up the medical supplies and buckle her in. Now that she is safe in my cruiser, I spare a moment to really look at her. She is pretty, and she looks so damn sad. That foreign feeling that took root in my heart back in the forest is suddenly blooming wildly in my chest. The incessant need to find out who hurt her, and how, nearly staggers me. I don't understand where these powerful feelings came from, but there is no denying that they're taking over now.
Clenching my jaw, I close the door and quickly make my way over into the driver’s seat. I settle in and sigh deeply, hands hovering on the steering wheel. The drive home will be difficult for us both, I imagine. I need to know everything there is to know about this stranger, and she probably still very much wants to die. I don't expect her to stay unconscious for long, and that might be problematic for me. Sure, she can easily figure out she is in a police car just by looking around her, but would that really stop her from panicking? Was I willing to take the risk? With her safety being my new number one priority, I'll need to mitigate any potential trouble for her sake.
I lean over the center console and reach under her seat, feeling around for the small black box I keep hidden there. Being so close to her, I am helpless against the subtle but sweet scent that permeates my senses. I groan again as I drop my forehead against the arm of her seat while I pull the box free.
Hesitating for just a moment longer, I force myself upright and settle the box in my lap. Unlocking it and flipping back the lid, I move aside several loaded syringes before grabbing a small bottle. I open the cap and dump a tiny white pill onto the palm of my hand. The drug is a sedative that they sometimes use in emergency psychiatry to calm a frantic patient. Guessing her weight, I settle on the safe side of using just one pill and lean back over to administer it.
My fingertips brush against her cool, soft lips, and I immediately start to worry. She should feel warm, not cold. That realization makes me nervous as hell, and part of me hopes I am making the right decision by taking her home instead of the hospital.
I part her lips gently and force my fingers between her teeth, slipping the rapidly dissolving pill under her soft tongue. She moans ever so quietly at the intrusion, and starts to stir, but she doesn't know to fight me. The pill will dissolve before she realizes it, and the chemicals will begin to work their magic to keep her sedated for the drive to my home in the woods.
I withdraw my hand from her mouth and turn up the heat in the car before I set to getting us on the road. As I put my cruiser in reverse and exit the parking lot, I am filled with feelings I don't quite understand. I've never really felt strong emotions for anyone, so it is unsettling that I am feeling this shit now. I don't even know this girl's name, or what I am going to do with her once I take her home.
There is only one thing I am sure about, and that very thing is indicative of the darkness I harbor inside of me. She belongs to me now, and I can fucking guarantee the devil within me is far more deadly than the monster that hurt her.
“Don't be afraid, baby,” I whisper to her in the darkness, “I won't hurt you... but I can't say the same for whoever broke you. That motherfucker is going to bleed.”
Chapter Three
Rayna
There is something deeply comforting about letting go. All the pain I've been so focused on has fallen away from me, disappearing into the vast, dark ocean I've become lost in. I feel so heavy and sapped of strength, which only makes it easier to let the bottomless void continue to pull me under. I sink deep enough to lose touch with reality, retreating into the quiet emptiness that surrounds me.
I vaguely recall an incredibly deep and soothing voice whispering to me from somewhere beyond the surface, saying words that made me feel more safe than I have in a long time. I tried to focus on that beautiful voice, to get closer to the source and the comfort it promised, but before I could reach the surface, the undercurrent forced me down deeper. There was no hope in fighting against the call of oblivion. It was far stronger than I could ever be.
Sinking deeper still, I am enveloped in a warmth that soothes me all the way down to my cold, fractured soul. Time passes slowly here, and it feels like I have lingered in this space for an entire eternity. This endless ocean of warm darkness is empty, but safe. I want to remain here forever, drifting thoughtlessly among the inky depths. If this is my afterlife, then I am grateful for it. This is a mercy in comparison to the cruel fate that awaited me in reality, where my abuser promised to hurt me again.
In reality, I don't know how much time has passed when I feel myself lifting towards the glittering surface of consciousness. The warmth of this place has kept me calm, but breaking the surface changes everything. It feels like I am drowning in a lake of fire as my nerve endings come alive all over again. Despite the terrible sensations all over my body, the panic never gets a chance to take hold of me. It remains a whisper, right before the weight of something I don't understand gently holds it down. Whatever is at work here, it does not allow the intensity of emotion to burst free and send me spiraling into the destructive force of my anxiety.
My eyes flutter open, and my blurry vision only evokes more confusion as I try to understand my surroundings. I'm suddenly in a small, dark space. It is soothingly warm here, and whatever I am sitting on is rumbling beneath me. The space I've found myself in feels comforting and safe, and I nearly slip back into the dark ocean of unconsciousness. That is until I hear it. The voice that came to me while I was lost in the blackness. Deep, rumbling and remarkably soothing. I don't think I've ever heard a voice so deep and calm until this one. The perfection of it brings a weak smile to my face, but my eyes can't help but close with the heaviness of my lids. I just can't process anything visually right now, not while I am dangling on the brink of slipping back under the surface.
“Are you awake?” The voice is somewhere close, and I love the sound of it so much that a small giggle emerges unwelcome from my mouth. Everything suddenly feels absurd. Aren't I supposed to be dead?
“Am I dead?” I manage to say into the darkness, my words heavily slurred from drowsiness. Am I now transitioning between real life and whatever comes next? Confusion winds itself through me as my mind fights the fog that has descended.
“No, you're not dead. My name is Officer Black. You're in my police vehicle. I'm taking you somewhere safe.” Though it takes my mind several long moments to process the lengthy sentence, realization hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. I... failed? I couldn't even take my own life. What an absolute joke.
“No...” The word is slurred, and feelings of dread are trying to bubble up from somewhere deep inside of me. “He's coming for me.”
I am surprised that I sound so calm right now. Shouldn't I be losing my shit over failing to save myself? What the hell is even happening? I am supposed to be in the forest, dead beneath that big old oak tree. Someone must have found me and called the police before death could take me. The officer's voice cuts through my painfully frantic thoughts, the low rumbling growl under his words causing my hair to stand on end.What a beautiful sound,I think to myself, despite the strangeness of his words.
