Chapter 9

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Gray POV (Conner and Junior in media box)
Carrying an unconscious teenage girl in your arms tends to attract some stares. Especially if she's covered in blood.
I reach our small hospital that we built on the first floor after a minute of walking. I see injured men and women being taken care of and it doesn't seem like they're dying so I move up to our head doctor, my uncle.
"Help her." He turns to me, a clipboard in his hand as he takes in the girl in my arms.
"Put her over there." He points to a bed in the corner of the room, closed in through glass doors so it's a private room. "Junior, get some fluids going."
A teenage boy in blue shrubs hurries over as I lay Torrance on the bed. I stiffen as he takes her hand, pulling her arm straight.
"How long has she been unconcious?" Conner asks (doctor).
"Around 10 minutes." I say gruffly, watching both men.
Conner moved his stethoscope around her chest until his eyes widen. "Junior, get her fluids going. Now."
Conner grabs the hem of my shirt and starts pulling it up but my hand reaches out and grabs his wrist.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I growl, squeezing his arm painfully.
He winces. "Sir, I need to see her stomach. She's injured."
Giving one last squeeze as a warning, I pull back and watch as he pulls the shirt over her head. Her chest and thighs are covered in blood, her stomach bruised.
Conner's hands are covered with white latex gloves as he touches her stomach. "Is there any chance that she's pregnant?"
"No." I've watched her for a year now and she shies away from any male that touches her.
"Severe bruising in the lower abdomen. She may have internal bleeding. Get Amelia." Conner sends Junior away before turning to me, his hands still gently probing her stomach. "What's her name, age, and birthday?"
"Torrance Bradley, 16, and July 27 1999." I say, watching her slow breaths.
He writes everything on a paper. "What made her become unconcious? What state did you find her in?"
"She was in my room. She wasn't wearing a shirt or pants and she had a gun. I heard her screaming and ran inside. She shot two men and hid my sister. I think she passed out 'cause of the bodies." I sit in the chair beside the bed.
"She's innocent, never seen anything like this." I look at her face, seeing nothing but beauty and innocence. A weird feeling sets in my chest and i just want to see her stormy gray eyes.
"I'll be back to run tests in a few minutes. Until then, don't try anything." He shuts the curtains around us before going out the doors, leaving no room for anyone to see.
I clutch her soft hand in mine as I lean forward, my head laying on the rail of the bed.
I hope she'll be okay.
"Gray?" A small voice croaks.
My head lifts. "Torri."
I grin at her and she smiles softly before her eyebrows crease. "Torri?"
"Uh..." Great. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I ran into a table." She groans, her hand touching her stomach. "Oh wait, I did."
I laugh loudly. "We were just attacked by men with guns and you don't get shot or hit or beaten but you run into a table."
Only her.
She snickers but stops and breathes deeply to help the pain. "Um... why am I in my bra?"
"What, you want me to take it off?" I smirk at her, my hand moving up her arm teasingly.
"No. I m-mean, not that I don't like you. Well, I don't but at the same time I do but you kidnapped me and you stalked me and that makes me uncomfortable and kinda weird but at the same time, like, happy because someone pa-"
"Youre rambling." I cut her off with another smirk as she reddens slightly and looks down.
She shivers and I frown. "Are you cold?"
"Mm-hmm." She nods.
"Move over." She watches with caution as I slide out of my boots, glad I showered this morning.
Sighing as I see she hasn't moved, I gently push her to the side and climb beside her, sticking my feet under the blanket.
Wrapping an arm around her back, my hand plays with her bra clasps as she puts her head on my shoulder.
"Better?"
"Thank you." She whispers, her breath causing goosebumps as it breezes over my pecs. "Is Dorothy okay?"
"Yeah, she said she saw you."
"But I couldn't do anything. I swear if I could, I would've done it. But I couldn't." A drop of water hits my skin and i tighten my hold on her.
"Shhh. It wasn't your fault. None of it was." I rock her from side to side gently, not liking how she feels guilty.
God, what is happening to me?

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