CHAPTER FOUR
Robyn's POV
Ow. My head hurts. My body feels numb. And don't get me started with my throat.
It's like another one of those mornings where you wake up from a horrible hangover and get banged up by--Oh my God! I will not even entertain that thought.
What happened last night? Why does my bed feel so stiff, and where is that blanket. I blindly fished for the said object until I slowly began wondering... Why can't I move? Why can't I frikkin move?
"Hello?" I yelped. My throat hurt like hell! Did I have broken shards of glass for dinner last night or something?
"Anyone there?" I whimpered. Ugh, maybe I should shut up. My throat felt so horrible I could feel a terrible bacteria-causing cold invading it right now. Either that or I nearly drowned in a pool. Whatever, swallowing even hurts I'm getting goosebumps from the horrible feeling.
"Shh!"
I blinked, hastily looking around as my head allowed me. Something, apparently, was also keeping it in place. I take in as much as I needed to understand that I'm in a hospital. Am I being restrained?
"Why am I being restrained?" my voice cracked towards the end, I cleared my throat only to wince at the searing pain it left after. My goodness, what in the world is happening? And then it hit me.
The last thing I remembered is hiding in a closet until, "They got me," I mumbled to myself.
"Keep it down," a strong male voice echoed quietly in the room.
"Help! I've been kidnapped!" the moment those words left my mouth the horrific realization began sinking in. "Oh my God, I'm kidnapped."
The dim lights blared brightly at the sound of a click.
"Ah, you're awake," said another voice that was far less abrasive than the other man's.
"Please don't hurt me," I whimpered as I heard footsteps approaching. I must be in some sort of illegal laboratory where they'll take my brain and turn me into one of their cyborg soldiers like what I've read off wattpad. My goodness, I think I've read too much.
"Sorry about all this."
I could feel cold hands brushing against my skin as he removed the linens one by one. I'm not one to complain, though. He must be a good guy, letting me out and all.
"I bet your neck's stiff from all this," he said nonchalantly.
If this were to happen in a different scenario, I would have easily retorted a sarcastic comment. I meant I could if I wanted a bullet through my brain.
I tried to roll to my side and slowly push up, but when I did, my arms wouldn't even comply. I just lay to my side as helpless as a vegetable man in the ICU.
I wouldn't exactly say that I like what I'm seeing as I took in the mid-section of a white doctor-like robe where beyond that I saw a neighboring gurney, strapping down a conscious man probably from head to toe with leather belts.
"Don't push yourself, sweeatheart. The sedative will keep you from running off, and you better stick close to me if you don't want to get into trouble,"
I take in his familiar American accent. His voice was like a song that I once couldn't get over and now that I did I'm having a horrible time trying to remember how it went. Thinking heavily about this small matter was giving me a migraine, and falling limp in such a drastic scenario as this is like having a nightmare where you have to drag with your heavy body to escape.
"Where am I?" I asked, my voice was growing harsh I think I sounded like a man.
"I'm sorry but I can't tell you that either," He flashed something brighter across my eyes and I recoiled from it. How would you like it if you were having a migraine and someone was flashing the sun at your eyes?
"Easy now, I just needed to see if--"
"I'm coherent and conscious, I’m obviously not in a coma," I managed to blurt those out, I don't care if he was a doctor. "I'm a nurse and fully aware of how these things go. So you can stop that now because it’s not helping my migraine!"
Okay, maybe not a licensed one, yet. Yet. Meaning I eventually will, just not now, like maybe after the results come out then I’ll know. But he doesn't have to know that. Whoever this guy is.
"Right. Robyn was it?" he asked again.
Robyn? I opened my mouth to protest until I had a strange instinct to just nod to what he said. Just go along to whatever this guy believes in. I know it was against our nursing way to communicate with anyone but—Oh right, I remembered biker dude’s instructions. Okay then, I’m Robyn.
"Well, Robyn, tell me anything that you remember so far." Judging by how my bed shifted slightly, he sat by the edge. Now I can see him. I strained my eyes hard enough to try and take in as much features as I could to report to the police officers should I ever encounter one in the near future.
There I take in a...a... Oh how do I put it without sounding so pathetic? I mean, I'm clearly in danger, but here I am thinking how much of a hottie this doctor is. You know what's even more pathetic? I can't even tell if this guy really is a doctor or some psychopathic guy trying to pass of as a doctor.
For all I know this could be a mental hospital where all the patients have overthrown the medical staff. Just like that one movie I saw two years ago. Which then brings me to an abrupt thought:
"What's happening?" I asked, feebly trying to readjust myself, completely asking something that was not answering his question.
"Oh nothing much, you're just in a hospital--"
"Oh shut the fuck up! I can't believe you'd stoop to something as low as this."
I jumped at the brash tone coming from my neighboring bed. Judging by the sudden intensity the air was suffocating me with, these guys aren't in good terms.
"Why is he--why are we restrained, I mean him?" I asked quietly, deciding whether or not I wanted to be heard.
The doctor simply smiled at me as if he was just your average family doctor giving you your average prescription to cure your average flu.
It was easier to think like that if he wasn't such a hunk. His ebony hair was neatly gelled, he had a very prominent, beardless face and broad shoulders that probably had a matching toned body hiding under all those clothes.
What the hell just popped into my head? I mentally scrubbed away those inappropriate thoughts. Thank goodness he stood up and moved on to the next bed to calmly argue with the angry patient. Well maybe the doctor was a little too calm about it, unlike the patient. I listened quietly, picking up pieces of information like pieces of paper scattered everywhere in the room.
From what I understood, the patient's name was Gold and the Doctor was Portley. Gold had a terrible temper and seemed to be very violent with the way he threatened to creatively kill off the doctor, which was more than enough to know that he was probably a mental patient.
Dr. Portley, on the other hand seemed excited as he explained something about tiny robots running through Gold's blood stream and that he had a few tests to run on him before letting him go.
Okay, maybe they're both crazy.
I could even diagnose the two right now. Gold has antisocial disorder. And I'm afraid the "doctor" might even be schizotypal! Oh dear Lord. Their patients have overrun this mental hospital.
The two seemed so tuned out in their heated discussion I might have the slightest chance to escape this. I looked around the white room developing a new sense of awareness towards my surroundings. Suddenly, I realized how annoying the ECG machine sounded the longer I had to listen to it.
But who cares. I saw a door left slightly ajar. That must be where Portley entered. Quickly glancing at the two men, the doctor was now laughing at the infuriated patient. My goodness, the doctor has an adorable dimple.
Desperately dismissing the thought, I tried to sit up carefully and see if they'd notice. They didn't but I did notice how hot the patient was. Unlike the doctor, his skin was tanned; his hair was dark brown and unruly, and his arms looked big and strong, straining against the straps that held him down.
Stop it! Just stop. How could these crazy people distract me so easily?
Diverting my thoughts to other things
, I began wiggling my toes to make sure that I could control them. Then I tried to raise them; sluggish. That's how they moved. But it was good enough. I looked back; none of them seemed to notice what I was planning.
I know this is risky, but I had to get out of here. I don't know how and I might end up dead, but at least I tried. Then maybe my parents will see my name published in the front page: Nursing Graduate Brutally Murdered by Mental Patients!
Okay, maybe it didn't have to turn out that way. Maybe it would be something like: Nursing Graduate Barely Survives Kidnap from Mental Patients!
Well at least I survived. I found myself crawling out of bed and soon enough as I padded across the room towards the door, my whole world turned and as expected the floor greeted me coldly as it slapped itself against my front.
Yes. Thank you for being so slow that I had to repeat myself that I fell face first. Ouch. Oh no, don’t mind me, it didn’t hurt or anything. I tried lifting my head only to fail after my vision became a flurry of swirls.
"Robyn, I already told you you're too sedated to attempt an escape, try again later when it wears off," said the doctor. It didn't take a genius to figure out his sarcasm.
A few confusing and blurry moments later, I found myself trying to escape again this time with the angry patient, Gold. Though, I can't seem to remember how I got to this point, I don't even think it mattered how because right now, we were in a car. I was driving and he was siting next to me, occasionally poking through the window and--holy shit! Was he shooting someone?
"What the hell?" I screamed, coming down to my senses. We were out in the forest and I was trying my best to stay on the dirt path.
He sat back in, loading his gun, "Keep driving!"
And so I did. I glanced at the rearview mirror and watched in horror the moment he took the shot, it broke through the other car's windshield before the car swerved to the side and crashed to a tree. This is so not happening!
"What's happening?" I repeated unrelentingly as he shot more of our pursuers down. I began driving on autopilot, my tachometer maintained its range in the red section and everything past us moved in a blur.
Happy place. Just think of your happy place and happy thoughts and all this will be over soon enough.
I watched the road turn from dirt to cement and the view from trees to houses and then buildings--
"You coping well?"
"Huh?" My head snapped to him. I loosened my grip on the wheel, trying to smoothen out cramped up muscles.
He repeated the question. Was he seriously asking that question? I watched him tuck his ugly black handgun in his pants. Wait. How come he gets pants? I glance back to my gown. Great. I bet I'm not even wearing any underwear. You know what? Never mind.
"Wonderful pants, I wonder where you got them?" I smiled tightly.
"I don't think you'd want to know," he sighed, leaning back.
I was about to protest but after witnessing what he was even capable off. I'm not so sure I'd even want to know now. So I just shut up and concentrated on driving.
It was a perfect day actually. All that really happened was that I took my exam and the next thing I knew I'm driving for my life. I never even liked driving. A faint memory fluttered by, reminding me of our quick argument about who was to drive. He gave me a choice: shoot people or drive the effing car. That shut me up.
"You know you can slow down now."
I didn't really mind swerving past cars and stoplights. I didn't even care if we got into an accident. I don't mind at all if I died just to end all this! Okay, maybe I didn't want to die. But I didn't want to slow down just because he said ‘Look at me, I’m so badass you have to follow my orders, bitch.’ Not that he said that or anything, but I can imagine him thinking exactly just that--a huge truck randomly showed up from my peripheral vision and I stomped on the breaks but we were still moving!
Oh my God! I don't want to die yet!
I braced myself for the inevitable as the car screeched and a cacophony of honks chorused indignantly. I even felt my guts nosedive to my feet to the point where screaming was the best way to relieve the pressure and then... And then it stopped. Everything stopped. We even stopped moving.
"Jesus, Robyn what the fuck is wrong with you?" He gasped, finally breaking the moment of silence. He sounded more rattled than I was.
When I looked up, I saw him running a hand through his disheveled hair, grumbling things to himself I couldn't hear. I probably wouldn't even like what he said.
Looking around helped me realize that we crashed through a park, denting a metal row of fences. We basically ran over a park fence? Are we supposed to pay for this? I'd rather pay for this than serve the community for a while. But if I were to chose between that or jail, I'd choose community service, of course.
Oh and look, people are beginning to crowd us now.
"You could have killed us both!" I watched his tan face turn to a shade of red. "And look, I told you low profile! Never mind, we should get out before the cops get here."
He stepped out. I let out the breath I've been holding in for quite a while. The sudden breeze that flew in made me realize how sticky and gross this gown felt against my skin. Where can I even find underwear out here? Where is here anyway?
I glanced at the car’s digital clock, it's almost two in the afternoon and because its summer I'm sweating like a pig! Why didn't we even bother turning on the air-conditioning? Then I surreptitiously sniffed myself. I grimaced in dissatisfaction. How long since I last bathed? I needed a good scrub--Thud!
He pounded my side of the car, causing my heart to skip and run for another mile. Holy shit! What is wrong with him?
I stepped out of the car, he needed a piece of my mind and I was going to give it to him—he grabbed me by the wrist and pushed us both through the crowd. I heard sirens from the distance and gasps from the crowd as we headed for the narrowest alley Gold could find. Wow, the cops are fast! But we're not the bad guys! It was an accident with what I did to the city's park. And come on, it was only a few fences; surely the government could pay that off easily. Right?
Which reminds me, I don't even have my license with me! Oh no! I'm definitely going to jail. There goes my dream of working in the hospital. It's not like I wanted to anyway. I believed this was a sign that I was not destined to be a nurse after all.
The feel of grass between my toes made me shudder and the heat from the pavement surely blistered my feet. Oh my poor feet, having to suffer such punishment after scrubbing them daily in the shower. It's just too cruel. I kept screaming at this man to give me some shoes at least, and clothes!
Clothes! Crap! I tried to feel around for the back of my gown where it’s usually tied shut. You know what, let me just tell you I'm glad I don't know those people. I don't even want to talk about how horrible my day just went because my ass got a glimpse of the whole world. Yes. I know. I know it's horrible so just shut up. Do me a favor and help me forget everything that happened just now. Never mind, you're not helping at all. Just. Shut. Up.
I don't know how long we've been running for. I don't even know where we are. There was nothing else to see but more brick walls to our left and right and some occasional streets we quickly crossed before entering another alley.
I can barely keep up with this guy and his speed is so hard to catch up to I knew I was bound to trip sooner and later--Never mind I just did.
"Get up!" He commanded.
"Oh shut up!" I barked, "I'm tired of running, the whole world just saw my ass, my feet hurts like hell and don't get me started with this scrape on my knee—oh my God my elbow is bleeding! Hey! I'm talking to you! Where are you going?" I sat upright the moment he let go of my wrist. He surely can't just leave me here!
"Leaving you alone," he said, clearly annoyed.
"Well you can't," I shrieked, staggering to my feet, "you dragged me into this so fix it!"
He began pacing. His hands went through his hair, down his face and then to his hips before he wen
t another round of pacing repeating the same gestures. He was clearly just as frustrated as I. At least he had pants on and shoes. So technically, I was more pitiful than he ever will be.
"It's your fault for dragging me into this," I added. Great, I wish I hadn't said that because now he was looking at me like he wanted to bite my head off.
"My fault?" He repeated. I know how to deal with angry patients, I just didn't know how to deal with one who knew how to shoot my brains.
"Now it's my fault? I decided to play the Good Samaritan not once but twice! I saved you from the Wipe Out and I saved you from those assholes and I'm saving you now from all this that I don't even know what to do with you anymore from all your whining! I should have left you back in that closet and have those bastards kill you off!"
When he stopped we both realized that he was already invading my personal space. He stepped away from me, kicking an empty can that bounced off the wall as he breathed a steady line of curses.
I pressed my back against a cool, damp, might I add, disgusting wall behind me. I cringed when I accidentally stepped into some puddle with other fluids I dared not think about. I hugged myself, trying to fight back tears. There was just so much emotions racking through my system right now I didn't know what to do with it.
When he approached me again, I braced myself, waiting for that blow across my cheek. It never came. Instead he removed his white gown and draped it across my shoulders. And I know it was very inappropriate but I couldn't tear my eyes away from those muscular bare arms, they were as thick as two of my forearms put together, yum! His chest were so chiseled they looked as if he underwent surgery to have them padded, and his abs. Don't get me started with those delicious rock hard abs.
"Let's go," He muttered, then turned, walking away.
I tried my best not to fall in a daze and went after him. You can't blame me for being helpless. I grew up with a nanny, I was spoon fed by my mom and my dad practically bought anything I wanted. We weren't rich. I was just an only child. All this hardships were new to me. The greatest struggle I ever experienced was my horrible break up with Alex several months ago.
I'm so tired in all aspects that made me human. I just wanted to go home, but I didn't even have the money to get there. Fear was another factor because someone was also out there ready to kill me. The sad part is, I never even agreed to any deal the biker dude closed me in to.
"Gold, right?" I asked weakly. He didn't respond but I knew he was listening. We stepped out from the alley and passed through a crowd, later we emerged with a random coat bunched up against my shoulders. I thanked him, it wasn't much and I am aware that this was stolen, but at least I felt less naked. Today was a long day; the whole city was slowly turning purple as the sun began setting beyond the distance. I don’t like this sad, nostalgic feeling. It made me even more tired and depressed.
"Gold," I tried again.
"What?" he asked, finally.
I debated on whether or not my words mattered but: "I'm hungry.”
I waited for him to complain again. It never came. Instead he just sighed and asked what I preferred. I don’t know if he was also hungry or was just being nice. At least, I knew he was human and that was enough to convince me that he was someone I can put up with until all this is over.