Slammer - Page 73/83

I nodded, knowing exactly where he was going with his question.

“I think those knuckles are deep. I’m worried about infection. I think you might need a dose of Penicillin.”

He winked at me before he left my side, coming back shortly with a syringe. Pulling the curtain, his eyes moved over my face once more.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

I set my jaw and closed my eyes. Lyla’s face popped into my memory. “Yes. Just do it.”

He pulled the cap off the syringe and injected it into me. Within minutes, its effects began closing up my throat. As I began to swing into full anaphylaxis, Giles leaned over me and grinned.

“Remember, X, I had nothing to do with this.”

I nodded and shut my eyes, focusing on my shallow breathing. Dr. Giles waited a few seconds before finally calling out for help.

“Call for an emergency transport!”

He ran from the room. The COs jumped to attention, pulling at the phones and speaking into their walkies. My mind was spinning, but I could make out Giles filling them in and letting them know I was having an allergic reaction.

Soon, he ran back into my space, plunging another needle into my arm. Immediately, I could feel relief. My throat was scratchy, but I could breathe again.

Minutes later, I was loaded into an ambulance. Dr. Giles followed me out and pressed a hand into my shoulder to reassure me. As his hand slipped away, he pushed something into my palm and I closed my fist around it.

My symptoms were slowly diminishing, and I was beginning to feel strong again. I knew I only had one shot at my escape, and for the sake of Lyla, I had to make it good.

Reeves sat in the seat beside me, jotting down something on a clipboard, and my eyes roamed over his body, landing on the gun at his side. COs weren’t allowed to be armed until they were transporting an inmate.

Feeling what Giles had pressed into my palm, I felt the coldness of a paperclip. I pulled at it, careful to not draw attention to myself, and I slowly worked at the lock on my handcuffs.

Once they were loose, I quietly began unbuckling my seatbelts, letting the last one click to the floor. Both the medic and Reeves looked up at me, but before he could pull his weapon, I lunged at him. Knocking him to the floor, I went for his gun and pulled it from his side.

I had the upper hand then.

“What’s going on back there?” the driver called to the back.

“Nobody move,” I whispered, holding the gun up and directly at Reeves.

With pinched lips and angry, red cheeks, he stared up at me from his place on the floor.

The ambulance began to slow. I quickly snatched the key from Reeves and unlocked my leg shackles.

Once the ambulance came to a stop, I didn’t waste any time. I slung the back door open and hopped out into the middle of traffic. Making a run for the tree line, I held the gun at my side. I ran until my legs ached, until I was sure there was no one following me.

I didn’t stop until I was swallowed by the darkness with only the moon to light my way. Tilting my head back, I breathed in the air of the free. It was then I remembered that Giles had put two things in my hand. Opening my fist, I stared down at the sweaty piece of paper sticking to my palm.

Opening it, I read it. It was an address—Lyla’s address to be exact. I knew where I was, having grown up only a few blocks away, and I knew I wasn’t far from her place. Gathering my bearings, I turned and started in her direction. I needed to get to her as soon as possible, and I could only hope I wasn’t too late.

CHAPTER 26

LYLA

HAVING SPENT THE night out with Diana, I was more than happy to finally be home. I didn’t have the money to go out, since I was only working part time at a doctor’s office close to my apartment, so instead, we’d stayed in at her place, watching movies and drinking wine.

I put my key in the door, turned the lock, and stepped into my dark apartment. Patting at the wall to my side, I tried to find the light switch until finally I found it and flipped it. My living room lit up and I sighed, tossing my purse onto the couch.

I turned to shut the door, making sure to lock the deadbolt, but before I turned back around, a hand landed over my mouth, trapping my scream.

“Shhh…” a deep voice hushed me.

The hand lifted from my lips and I turned, finding X standing there.

He was really there, standing in my apartment. I’d missed him so much. It had taken everything I had not to go to him on visitation day, but I’d promised and I didn’t want to break a promise to him. No matter how badly I missed him.

For weeks, I’d gone back and forth with the lawyers, trying to get his case going, but it was like no one cared but me. It was aggravating and annoying, and I hated feeling helpless.