The bodyguard

Chapter 16 (Remastered)

His hands brushed across my skin and my hair, keeping it out of my face as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I'd already been here for a week, maybe more, maybe less, I could never tell. No room that I'd been in had any windows or clocks for me to be able to tell the time. But all that I knew was there was a schedule every day that he stuck to strictly.

My hands gripped the bowl of the toilet as I went for another round of vomiting. My stomach pained me and my head spiraled. "Jane, what is wrong with you?" He asked me frantically. I gasped for air as my vomiting came to a stop. "I don't know, but I need a hospital," I groaned.
Sinclair stood up and paced back and forth as he contemplated what to do, I mean, i haven't been anywhere but the bedroom and the bathroom since I got here.

I think that the amount that I'd thrown up and the amount of noise that I was making was enough to make him give in and take me.

"AGH! Fuck, okay let's go!" He exclaimed as he ran into the room and pulled out the familiar needle. "No! Please," I begged as he grabbed my arm and injected the needle into my arm.
Like always my body fell limp, but Sinclair lifted my body and carried me through the house and out the front door. The harsh sunrays nearly blinded me as I was introduced to them for the first time in days. As my eyes adjusted to the sudden change, I looked back at the house and everything started to make sense.

The house was a house that Sinclair and I looked at when we were together. "A place of dreams," I whispered to myself, though Sinclair didn't notice. We aren't two days away from Las Vegas, Nevada, I'm 16 hours away.

I'm in Colorado.

See, Sinclair and I had planned to escape our lives and move far away, but.. you know.. psychopath.
My only plan right now is to get to the hospital, if I can get there and get checked into their system then they'll be able to track me. Sinclair put me down in the front passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. Before he closed the door, he pressed the child lock button, to which he then ran around the car and jumped into the driver's seat.

He wasted absolutely no time getting me to the hospital. The hospital was 15 minutes away.

My pain and aching were over but I needed to get admitted to the hospital. Sinclair carried me through the front doors princess-style and rushed to the desk. "Hey my girlfriend has been throwing up really bad and her stomach has been hurting," he said. The nurse stood up from her desk with a concerned expression. She was wearing the common blue scrubs and her brown natural hair was slicked back into a ponytail.
I played my role very well, my hands on my stomach curled up as much as I could.

"Woah, woah. Sir, how long has this been going on for?" The nurse asked. Sinclair looked down at me, well yesterday I made her favorite dinner and she threw up just from the smell of it, and i mean she woke up this morning throwing up," he said. "Ma'am, on a scale of 1 to 10 how bad would you say that your pain is?" she asked. However, due to the medication, I was only really capable of mumbling or making noises.

Sinclair spoke for me, "It's a 10, I need to get her into a room NOW!" He demanded. The nurse quickly sat down and started clicking away at her computer, "Can I have a name?" she asked. "Jane Atlas," he said. The nurse clicked and typed, "Can I see a social security card and a driver's license or state-issued ID?" She asked. A sweat bead nearly fell down my face, I don't have any identification.

"Right here," Sinclair said as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out my wallet with my social security and Nevada driver's license.

The amount of preparation that he took was absurd.