Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Chapter Nineteen

Magdalena

After resting my eyes for a few minutes, I decide to make an attempt at getting up from the floor, even though this 'Riggs' guy is holding me. I have somehow convinced myself that I can walk out of here by myself, with no help. As I move my legs to push myself up, a sharp pain radiates from my thigh making me gasp, and I take a look at it. Oh god, I forgot Gunner stabbed me. Holy shit, Gunner! I frantically search the room for him, until my eyes land on his dead body slumped against the wall. He's really gone. He was just there, and now he's not. My breaths turn more frantic, and I end up clutching my ribs. I don't feel bad for him, he got what was coming to him, but seeing the knife lodged in his forehead is a picture I won't forget for a while. Heavy boots enter my line of vision, and a few of Wayne's guys block my view of the room. Their faces are covered, only their eyes are visible. One of them shakes his head, silently indicating that I shouldn't look.

"Calm your breathing, darlin'. I don't want you passing out on me. I'm going to lift you on the count of three." Riggs' deep southern voice interrupts my meltdown. "Hudson, help me out." He addresses another of the men surrounding us. Hudson hands his weapon to the guy next to him and approaches us. I move back a little out of instinct, making him halt. "Darlin', that's Hudson. He's not going to hurt you. I need his help to stabilize your torso, so we can get you out of here as painlessly as possible." He explains.

"Oh, yeah, of course. I'm sorry." I feel like an idiot now, this whole situation is messing with my head. It feels like it has been ingrained in my head, that every new person I meet is out to get me.

"Don't apologize. We understand." Hudson has now fully approached us, and bends down to our level. "Now, darlin', I need you to just focus on your breathing. Moving you is probably going to hurt a bit." I nod as Riggs puts his arm around my back and hooks another under my knees. "I need you to release the grip you have on your ribs, I'm afraid you're adding too much pressure." I begin to shake my head frantically, but before I can even say anything he stops me. "Darlin', I know it hurts-"

"I'm sorry." I interrupt him, "I don't mean to be such a fetus or baby, or whatever you call it." I try to grasp for the right words, but they're not entering my brain correctly, the pain is making it difficult to talk or even think right.

"What did I just say about apologizing? Broken ribs are a bitch, you're doing just fine."

"How do you know they're broken?" I ask him confused.

"We saw the recording of the fight," He hesitantly begins, "There's no way your ribs survived those kicks." That's so fucking embarrassing. They just had front row seats to me getting my ass handed to me, unwillingly, by the way. I want nothing more than for the ground to swallow me whole right now.

"Never mind, put me down. Just leave me here to die." The guys around me all collectively let out chuckles. I'm too tired for this, I've been humiliated and bruised enough as it is.

"No can do, darlin'." I sigh as deeply as I can, which is not very deep considering my ribs. Oh yeah, did I mention my ribs hurt already? "If it's any consolation, you did get her pretty good in the mouth." True. I awkwardly pat his shoulder in thanks. "Now, Hudson's hands will replace yours, you can place your hands on top of his if it'll make you feel any better." Fine. I shakily remove my arm and Hudson quickly places his hands on me. I rest mine on top of his.

"Thank you, sir." He huffs out a small laugh.

"You can call me Hudson." His deep voice introduces himself.

"Okay, sir." I whisper. The men around me snicker again. His eyes glint with amusement briefly before becoming hard and determined again.

"We'll leave the knife in your thigh as it is, it's a clean stab, and you're not bleeding too much." Riggs elaborates. How lovely, I'm bleeding appropriately.