His Slave

57. An Idea

James

"You're going to release me," I rasp as the nurse changes out my I.V. drip. "Or, I'll have your hospital shut down before you can even blink." I cough, my lungs burning.

She sighs, shaking her head at me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Harrington but I can't do that. You're in critical condition. You have-."

"Two broken ribs, smoke inhalation, internal bruising, several scrapes and cuts, a spranged ankle, third degree burns on my arms and chest. I'm fucking aware of my injuries," I hiss back, groaning from the pain. Thinking about my wounds somehow makes them worse.

But my physical injuries are paper cuts compared to the emptiness I feel when I think about Erin. When I finally came to yesterday morning, Danny, Emily, and Julietta were there. They told me everything.

Twelve people died in the explosions. Forty-one were injured, including myself. Eleven people are still missing.

Eleven debtors are still missing.

The A.E.D.P. kidnapped Erin and Kylie, and God knows who else. The West Lynfield Police Department is searching for them. In the five days they've been looking, they haven't found anything. No traces of their DNA in the system.

Nothing.

Danny and Emily are doing everything they can, but they haven't found anything either.

My dear sweet little Erin. I hope she's giving Kendra hell. And I swear to fuck, if Kendra harms Erin or Kylie in any way, I'll rip every strand of blonde hair from her scalp and then I'll ship her out to the ocean and feed her to the sharks myself!

"Then you know that you're in no condition to return home," she replies simply. "I'll be back in an hour with your lunch."

"I want coffee," I barely manage to get out before coughing again. Fuck, I'm going to murder Kendra when I see her again.

She closes her eyes, calming her nerves before answering me. "I told you yesterday, you can't have coffee. It's not a good idea to get your heart rate up right now."

Before I can argue the point she slips out of my room and into the hall, shutting the door behind her.

I toss my head back against the pillow, letting out a frustrated sigh. And then I cough.

I was mistaken to liken dealing with the rebel attack on Portenville to hell. This- being stuck in this damn hospital bed, all alone, not knowing where they've taken Erin?

This is truly hell. Fuck, I miss her so much it physically hurts. I just want to kiss her forehead. Tell her how much I love her. Hold her in my arms, and never let her go. I can't do any of those things right now.

What if they don't find her?

Oh god.

What if I never get to see Erin again?

I can't hold back the tears that well in my eyes, and I don't try to.

Fuck.

I grab my phone from the bedside table. My old phone was lost in the rubble from the attack but I had Emily get me a new one.

I check for Erin's signature for the umpteenth time today. Just like all the other times, the search comes up blank.

"Fuck!" I exclaim, my voice hoarse. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" My string of F words sends me into another coughing fit. I'm clutching my chest, trying to reach for the glass of water on the bedside table when the nurse comes back in, helping me take sips of water.

"Careful, Mr. Harrington. Yelling like that isn't going to help your recovery," she scolds.

I glare at her, clearing my throat. "I don't fucking care," I reply, fighting to keep another cough down.
She just shakes her head, refilling my glass before leaving me alone again.