Chapter 6: White Walls

The first thug lunged—sloppy, overconfident. Kai stepped inside his reach, snapped her elbow up into his jaw, and sent him crashing into the stained couch. Before his body hit the cushions, she was already spinning, catching the second attacker’s wrist mid-swing and twisting. A sickening pop. A scream. She shoved him into the third, sending them both sprawling.

Two down. Five to go.

“Call police,” she screamed at Damian.

A bottle flew at her head. Kai ducked, the glass shattering against the wall behind her. The moment she straightened, the largest of the bunch rushed her like a bull, arms wide, hoping to tackle her and pin her down. Kai sidestepped, hooked her foot behind his ankle, and used his own momentum against him. He crashed face-first into the coffee table, splinters flying.

Another set of hands grabbed her from behind. His arms clamped around her waist in a crushing bear hug. Kai gritted her teeth. Amateurs. She snapped her head back, breaking his nose, then twisted violently in his hold, driving her elbow into his throat. He collapsed, gagging.

Now, only three left—including the leader.

The last two grunts hesitated, eyes darting between their fallen friends and the fire in Kai’s gaze. That brief hesitation was all she needed. She charged, hitting one in the solar plexus with a brutal knee, followed by an elbow to the back of his head knocking him out cold then swept the other’s legs out from under him. A few well-placed strikes later, and they weren’t getting back up anytime soon.

The leader stood by the doorway, a knife glinting in his hand.

"You think you're walking out of here?" he sneered, flicking the blade.

Kai’s breath was steady, but she could feel the fatigue creeping into her muscles. He came in fast, slashing in a wide arc, he knew what he was doing with a blade. Kai barely twisted in time, but the blade still managed to claw at her skin, slicing from her hip to just below her ribs. Fire erupted across her side. Gritting her teeth, she trapped his wrist in the crook of her arm just before he pulled back for another swing, using his own momentum to wrench the knife free. With a sharp, twisting motion, she redirected the blade and drove it deep into the rotting wooden floor.

The leader barely had time to react before Kai’s fist smashed into his jaw. His head snapped back, and he staggered against the wall, dazed.

Damian grabbed her arm. "Kai, we gotta go! Cops are coming!"

The edges of her vision wavered, but she let him half-drag her down the stairs, blood soaking into her shirt. The wail of sirens grew louder as she stumbled into the flashing red and blue lights. The fight was over. As Kai and Damian reached the front lawn of the apartment building she collapsed onto the grass, weak and starting to become disorientated from blood loss. She didn’t think that the knife got her that deep but she was obviously wrong. Paramedics rushed to her side immediately assessing just how bad the wound was. Their faces said it all.

“Miss can you hear us, i need you to tell me on a scale of 10 where your pain level is? Miss can you hear me?” One of the paramedics was trying to get her attention but she was slipping into darkness inside her mind. “Miss can you hear me?” The more she tried to fight the darkness the faster she was being pulled into it. She had to make sure Damian didn’t get in trouble for this.

“Damian... Call Marty... This... Not your... Fault,” she pulled her phone out of her back pocket handing it to Damian as the paramedics started to lift her onto a stretcher and started working to stem the flow of blood from her side.

“Dispatch, this is Unit 628. We have a priority one patient, female, late twenties, with a deep lateral knife laceration extending from left hip to lower ribcage. Significant hemorrhage, possible involvement of underlying muscle. Patient is conscious but pale, tachycardic, and showing early signs of hypovolemia. Applying pressure dressing and IV fluids. ETA to hospital is 8 minutes. Advise trauma team.”

Well this sucked. She hated going to hospital, in the last few years she would count on one hand that she had been to the ER because of a possible concussion or broken ribs because of a fight. It took a couple days before Kai was conscious enough to talk to visitors. Damian had been released to Marty’s care and had spent the last two days camped next to Kai’s bed, waiting to apologize for putting her in that situation. Friday afternoon; Kai was finally able to keep her eyes open for longer than a few minutes but she couldn’t move with the stitches in her left side. She wore a half a hospital gown that kept anything from touching the 12 inch long line of stitches and every muscle in that side of her body was screaming every time she tried to move.

The wound throbbed and burned with every heartbeat, like a deep, searing heat trapped under the skin. Stitches pulling against the skin with every small movement, feeling like a constant tugging or pinching sensation. The surrounding area would stiffen and darken, a deep purple-red, making even slight touches painful. The first night after consciousness returned became a war between pain and sleep. Sleep is nearly impossible. Every position pulls at the stitches, and lying flat feels like the wound is being stretched open again. Sharp, stabbing pains come in unpredictable lightning bolts if she shifts too fast or breathes too deeply. A dull, deep ache sets in, almost like a bad muscle strain but far more raw and persistent.

Kai called Preston as night time fell. She knew this wound was going to put her down for weeks and there was no way she was going to be able to be his submissive for probably even longer. She asked everyone to leave the room so she could get some rest, when really she wanted the privacy to have this conversation with her Dom without prying ears. It took only 2 rings before the line picked up.

“Angel, i was beginning to wonder if i would hear from you tonight,” Preston almost sounded like he was purring on the other end of the phone, “I had planned for us to meet at Lux to do a scene and...” Kai interrupted him.

“I’m not going to be able to make it,” Kai deadpanned through the phone. She tried to shift in the bed to sit up just a fraction and had to bite off a gasp as the stitches pulled from the sudden movement, “I got injured which is going to take some time to heal, sir.” Adding the honorific in a hope of defusing any anger or disappointment he may have, “i would have called sooner but i was unconscious in hospital.”

“Shit Angel are you going to be okay?” This was Preston not in Dom mode, he was a genuine guy that actually cared about people.

“I will be but this is going to take some time. You would probably be better served by someone else and maybe when I'm recovered we can talk again,” even talking for long periods of time was hurting now, it must be her bodies healing starting to kick in, “It’s been a pleasure to serve you til now.”

“Don’t even worry about it girl, and the pleasure was all mine,” And the smooth Dom is back, “You be a good girl and listen to everything you are told. You are a good person and one day you are going to have to tell me this story, for now relax and heal. I’m sure our paths will cross again some day.”

“Thank you Preston,” Kai rolled her eyes at his insistence but was smiling when she hung up the phone. Now to survive her stay in this white-walled prison.

Over the next few days was an even tougher battle than the first. The doctors would not discharge her until she could get up and walk around the unit with at least a walking frame, that was seeming to be another challenge entirely.

Sitting up is a nightmare. The stitches strain, feeling like someone is ripping a seam open inside her. Rolling onto her side? Forget it. Walking is slow and stiff. Every step jars the wound, making her hyper-aware of the injury. Coughing, laughing, or sneezing? Agony. It’s like being stabbed all over again every time her abs engage. Bathing is frustrating. She has to avoid soaking the stitches, which means awkward, careful movements and a constant fear of pulling them open.

By the middle of the next week Kai was able to move around the trauma unit with a cane, much to the shock of the nurses that insist she go easier on herself. Clearly they didn’t know her, or the fact that Kai had missed three days of work and was itching to get back to the D.A.R.E factory to see how the project was moving forward. She would be back in the cafe before the end of the week, suddenly thankful that the managers she had appointed to each of the 7 cafe’s had been communicating with her consistently and so far nothing had dissolved into chaos. Kai needed to get up and out of this place, she needed to move and to train again.

That was the biggest sense of inadequacy she felt right now. Feeling trapped in her own body. She knows she can’t move like normal, but her instincts urge her to push through the pain, which only makes it worse. Kai was becoming increasingly frustrated at needing help. Even simple tasks—reaching for something, getting dressed, standing up—become humiliating struggles. Then there was the ever constant, lingering soreness that settles in all day and all night. The burning pain of fresh wounds slowly dulls into a tight, bruised ache, but the ever-present pulling sensation remains, a constant reminder of the fight she barely walked away from.