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"Don't fucking touch me!" I screamed, moving away from him a little more.
"I'm trying to fucking help you. I get you're fucking scared, but calm down and let me fucking help," he said, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed where I pushed myself. I didn't have the energy to fight him off, so I gave in. He took the hoodie, pulled it over my head, and put my arms through. The hoodie smelt like the ocean. It kind of brought me comfort. I jumped as he pulled the hoodie down and grazed my waist. He looked down at me and then at the guys cleaning up the mess. He looked back down at me and then at my thigh, which was bleeding still. He leaned down and gently touched it.
I slowly put my hands in between my legs and squeeze. He looked and realized my panties were off me. He quickly stood up and ran back outside. He came back with a blanket and wrapped me up in it. He looked me in the eye again with a gentle look. "We will take care of you then, bring you home," he said, giving me a slight smile. He stood up and slowly picked me up to make sure I was okay with it. He held me close to him. I glanced overseeing the guys ripping the blood-stained carpet up. Issac walked me over to a blacked-out truck with tinted windows. He was able to open the door while holding me and slowly sat me in the seat. I just stared into nothing. I didn't have words or thoughts—just pain. Issac walked around the truck and got into the driver's seat and drove.
"Issac…." I whispered, gripping the blanket. I didn't look at him.
"Yeah?" He asked with a worried voice, looking over at me.
"I can't be alone right now," I said, looking at him with tears.
Chapter 5
Issac jumped out of the truck and over to my side after we pulled into a garage/bar-looking place. I clenched the blanket around me as he helped me out. I looked around slowly, seeing a bunch of motorcycles and old muscle cars.
"Can I put my hand on your back to help you?" Issac asked, looking at me. I nodded, and he slowly placed his hand on my lower back. He started leading me into the garage. I heard voices shouting and laughing. He opened the door and nuzzled me in. The smell of oil and gas hit me. He grabbed me again after shutting and locking the door behind us. He led me to another door. The voices and laughter got louder. Issac kicked open the door, and everything went quiet. I saw six guys standing around a pool table and a woman standing behind a bar. They all stared at me. I slowly looked around, and the place was a mess.
"The fuck y'all looking at? Clean this shit up. When did you assholes become pigs?," Issac spat. "General! Get your old ass out here!"
Issac led me down a hallway and pushed open a door leading into a bedroom. It was relatively clean, just a few clothes here and there. I looked around and saw a bathroom attached to the room. Issac sat me down on the bed and walked over to a dresser. I saw movement to my left and jumped a little. It was the older man that I saw the night I was shot. He looked at me with sadness in his eyes. Issac walked over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me up. He led me to the bathroom and handed me a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers.
"Change. General and I will help you with those cuts," Issac said about closing the door to the bathroom.
"Wait," I whispered. Issac turned to look at me. "Can you help me, please?" I asked, with tears in my eyes. "I can't move my shoulder or turn my head."
He walked in and shut the door. He grabbed the blanket and pulled it off me. He took my cut-open shirt and pulled it off. As he did that, I turned and looked at the shower. Oh, how one would feel so pleasant right now. I'm guessing he saw me looking.
"Do you want a shower?" He asked, throwing my shirt on the floor.
"It would be nice," I said, looking down at the floor. I had forgotten that they cut my panties off, so I panicked and tried covering myself quickly.
Issac was turning the shower on when he noticed and sputtered. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not looking." He walked over to me and sighed. "Do you need help with your bra?" I cried quietly. I nodded yes, and he slowly unclipped my bra and gently pushed the straps down.
He helped me into the shower. I let the water run down my body. It felt so nice. I tried to wash myself but struggled. I hate this. I really fucking hate this.
"God damnit!" I cried out, leaning against the wall of the shower. I heard the bathroom door open and close.
"I'll help. What do you need?" Issac asked with a soft tone.
"I can't get my back," I cried. He opened the shower door and helped me wash. Great. Another man had seen me naked, and I didn't want it to happen until I was comfortable and ready. It's too late now. Issac helped me out of the shower and helped me get dressed.
"General is in my room waiting to patch you up," he said, gently placing his hand on my back and leading me into his room to his bed. General was sitting at the edge of the bed with a medical bag, and then I noticed he had a prosthetic leg. He looked up at me and gave me a little smile.
"The war took it. I don't even realize it's not there anymore," he chuckled. Issac sat me on the bed, and the General started looking at my freshly cleaned wounds. "They're deep, definitely gonna leave a scar," he said about the ones on my thigh. "Let me look at your shoulder," he said, leaning towards me. I flinched a little. "Hey, it's alright. I'm not going to hurt you," he said, showing me where his hands were gonna go. He looked at my shoulder and cleared his throat. "Another day or two, and we can take those stitches out, but we need to stitch up these on her thigh," he said, looking at Issac.
"Do it," Issac said, rubbing his head. He turned around to walk out. I honestly didn't want him to leave because I was so scared, but General spoke up before I could say anything.
"We don't have any novocaine, and she's going to feel every stitch I make," General sighed. Issac stopped and turned around. He sighed. General spoke again. "We're going to have to hold her down." he looked down, shaking his head.
"Fuck," Issac groaned, walked to the door, swung it open, and went out. Hold me down? I don't fucking think so, I thought. He came in with the woman who was standing behind the bar. "Help me hold her down while he stitches her, please," he ordered.
"No… pl-please don't hold me down. It'll heal on its own," I said, limping as I stood up. General Issac and the woman looked at me with sadness in their eyes.
"No, it won't. Just come here," Issac said, putting his arm out. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I gave in. Issac picked me up and placed me in the middle of his bed. He climbed behind me and sat me up between his legs, leaning my back onto his chest. "Aunt Doll, hold her legs down. Make sure she doesn't move them," he ordered. She nodded her head. Aunt Doll? Is this his aunt? General made himself comfortable where he could start stitching. Issac's grip tightened around my waist. He grabbed my wrist, too, so they were wrapped around me with his grip.
"Your sheets are going to be covered in blood," General said, looking at Issac. I could feel Issac's breath on my ear and neck. His grip tightened more.
"It's okay. Just get it over with," Issac ordered. I felt Aunt Doll's grip on my ankles. I started breathing heavily and getting nervous. General rubbed the cuts with an alcohol and peroxide pad. I thought the shower water burned. Nope. This was a thousand times worse. I quietly groaned in pain.
