Chapter 43

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Chapter Forty-Three

Damon's POV

They had left me in that cell to rot- to be tortured by the sounds that Sara was making only a few doors down from me. Her screams made every muscle in my body shiver. Then, I heard what sounded like the singing of angels- sirens.

"No way," I whispered to myself as they drew nearer. The thin walls of the warehouse were practically vibrating, there were so many of them.

"This is Chicago police and FBI! Surrender now or were coming in," a voice muffled by a megaphone called loudly. Then the sound of helicopters met my ears and I knew this was it- we were getting out of here.

It all happened so fast- there was gunfire coming from outside, doors being busted open, men shouting. More and more sirens rang, probably because EMS was starting to show up to take the injured- who knew how many people were suffering in here. My door was finally kicked open, men rushing in to help me.

"We're going to need a second gurney, four rooms down from the first," one of the officers spoke into his walkie, glancing me over. "Are you okay, sir?"

"Where's Sara?" My voice was raspy as I spoke.

"That information is not of importance to you in this moment, sir. Please answer the question- are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I say, standing up, only to have my legs give out on me. The two officers are quick to catch me, just as a gurney is rolled into the room. They helped me to it, laying me down and strapping me on before they rush through and out of the warehouse. I turned my head looking for Sara, but I couldn't find her anywhere.

"Where's Sara?" I asked again.

"The girl? She's been rushed to the hospital," the officer answered sadly. "She was in awful conditions, and they needed to get her to the ER immediately."

I ignored the IVs being poked into my arms to continue my questions. "How bad was it, officer? Please, she's my girlfriend and I need to know."

The officer took off his hat and ran his hand through his air before giving me the most sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, sir, but they said that there's little chance that she'll survive. She had a stab wound to the abdomen, her lung punctures by a rib bone- not to mention the acid injected into her system, the blood she lost, and the toll the broken bones took on her body."

I couldn't respond. How could I? Sara could be dead already for all this officer knew- for all I knew. My mind seemed to go blank as the paramedics took me off of the ambulance and into the hospital. I was left with only a few fractured ribs, a broken nose, and a few bruises. They didn't allow any information on Sara to leave the ER. All they could say was that the doctors were doing their best, and to me that wasn't comfort enough.

"Damon," Joshua's voice snapped my gaze from the empty, white hospital wall in front of me. He walked over to me, looking me over. "What happened?"

I shook my head, a burn beginning to form in my throat. "They found her- they found us. This time wouldn't be as easy to get away."

"The gang? The ones who got her in the first place?" Joshua whispered, tears beginning to form in his own eyes. My nodding head only makes it worse. "My baby- Sara- do you know how she's doing? They won't tell me anything."

"The officer told me what had happened to her, the ride down here," I shook my head, hating to picture her in that state. "A punctured lung, a stab wound into her abdomen, broken bones, acid injection into her system, and blood loss."

"Oh no," he let the tears fall, slumping into the chair next to me and crying into his hands. I let my tears fall as well, seeing no point to hold them back anymore. All I wanted now was for my Sara to be okay- I'd exchange my life for her's if I had to.

***

The next day, I woke up from a dreamless sleep. I had surprised myself by even sleeping in this situation, but my body had to rest sometime. Joshua was no longer by my side. The room felt even more cold and empty now.

With the strength I had regained, I swung my legs over the edge of the hospital bed. After giving myself adjusting time, I began to slowly walk to the door, opening it and peeking my head out. Joshua was walking down the hall towards me.

"Come with me," he says, voice completely void of emotion. I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows but followed him cautious down the hall and a few turns. He finally stopped at a door before opening it. I looked inside to see her.

There was Sara, laying on the hospital bed. IVs were hooked up to what seemed like every part of her body, she had casts on her legs, but the things that caught my attention were the bruises and cuts on her face.

"You can't touch her," Joshua says as I step toward her. My gaze snaps to him in confusion. "She's in a coma, Damon."

My eyes widen and look back to her. That's when I bothered to notice that she had a tube going down her throat, helping her to breath. The heart monitor was beeping steadily and the air pump hissed as it breathed the air into her lungs.

"What did the doctors says?" I ask, keeping my eyes on Sara as if she would wake up in that moment to say she was fine.

The sigh that came out of Joshua only made my chest feel heavier. "There's a maybe a two percent chance she'll wake up, and I think the doctors are saying that for comfort. Her body shut itself down, but she's not brain-dead. Her heart is weak because of the supplements they injected into her, but she's still fighting."

A weak and sad smile made its way to my lips before it quickly disappeared. "Has her heart given out at all?"

"Twice," Joshua nods as I look over at him. "But like I said, she's not going down without a fight, Damon. Its what she did best."

"Don't talk like she's dead," I snapped, unable to keep control of myself. "She's not gone, J. She'll fight and she'll come back from this."

"Only time will tell," Joshua finally let his eyes drift back to his niece, who had been like a loving daughter to him. Sara looked so at rest and peaceful. It would've been comforting to see her like that if she wasn't slowly dying, or relying on a machine to breathe. "I don't know how I'm going to tell her sister. How do I tell a five year old girl that her sister is-" he cut himself off as his voice cracked.

I just wanted to touch her- hold her hand to let her know somehow that I was here for her, by her side, but I refrained from risking it. A part of me was scared for her- scared that she would give up the fight- but the other part was cheering her back to health- cheering for my fighter.

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