Chapter 49 Don't Touch Me
Meanwhile, a golden Rolls-Royce was racing down the highway.
Nicholas sat in the backseat, his face grim. He had never felt such burning urgency before.
His phone had just rung; Charlie's voice was rushed and urgent.
"Mr. Harrison, we found her!"
"Pueblo del Río—an unknown delivery truck went in early this morning!"
"Our people have tracked down the exact location!"
A location pin was sent to Nicholas's phone.
Location share: Pueblo del Río Abandoned Farm
Less than two miles from his current position.
"Drive faster!" Nicholas snarled at the driver.
The driver slammed the accelerator to the floor.
The man pulled two black, bat-like creatures from the cage, their sharp fangs protruding menacingly.
He slowly approached Emma, his voice soothing. "They're gentle, don't be afraid. You did so well before. Humans can coexist with animals."
Emma shook her head frantically, instinctively backing away, nausea rising in her throat. Blood had pooled on the floor around her, and her face was white as paper.
A weak beam of light shot through the window, followed by fierce barking.
The man's expression suddenly darkened, irritation flashing across his face.
Wasn't the target supposed to be heading toward Majestic City? How could anyone find this place?
He quickly returned the creatures to their cage, grabbed his camera and the cage, and bolted for the door.
Before leaving, he switched off the lights and slammed the door shut.
It was deep into the night now. Most people wouldn't notice this little shack, and her wound was still bleeding.
Emma felt around in the darkness, making muffled sounds through the tape as she slowly inched toward the door.
The door burst open with a crash.
Then the lights in the room came on, the brightness blinding.Emma cowered backward in fear.
Nicholas's silhouette appeared in the doorway, backlit and sharp-featured.
The scene before him made his heart stop.
Emma's blouse was torn, several buttons missing, her left arm covered in blood, with a large pool of blood on the floor.
So red it was blinding, utterly horrifying.
His heart felt like it was being crushed by an invisible fist, pain suffocating him. Self-blame crashed over him like a tidal wave, along with a terror that consumed him instantly.
He quickly stripped off his jacket and strode forward, wrapping her trembling form tightly.
His body heat transferred through the fabric.
He saw the tape across her mouth and reached out, carefully peeling it away.
Her lips were swollen and red, marked by the adhesive's harsh pull.
Her hands and feet were bound with rough rope. As he gently untied them, the angry red marks left by the bindings stung his eyes.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here!" His voice was hoarse, trembling in a way he didn't recognize. "I'm sorry, Emma. I'm so sorry I was late."
He kept repeating the words, trying to comfort her, trying to calm his own racing heart.
"Don't touch me!" Emma managed to squeeze out the words, her face deathly pale, large tears rolling down and landing on his hands like burning drops.
Only now did Nicholas understand what heartbreak truly felt like. He swept her up in his arms and rushed toward the exit.
She was so light, like a feather.
As he passed through the doorway, his steps never slowed, his head never turned, but his voice was cold enough to freeze.
"Turn every stone. Find that bastard and drag him out."
"I want him found, dead or alive."
The car shot forward like an arrow, racing toward the nearest hospital.
The cabin filled with the heavy, acrid smell of blood.
Nicholas found gauze and antiseptic in the car's first aid kit, working quickly to treat the deep gash on her arm.
His fingers and clothes became stained with her blood, sticky and warm.
He cleaned and bandaged carefully, trying to be as gentle as possible, but still she trembled with each touch.
After wrapping one wound, he checked for others.
"Where else does it hurt?" he asked, his voice strained.
Emma's mind was a foggy haze, as if wrapped in thick cotton. Her face was paper-white, consciousness drifting.
Nicholas reached out with trembling fingers to fasten a button on her blouse, his fingertips brushing against her ice-cold skin. The contact only stoked the murderous rage burning in his chest.
He would make those bastards beg for death.
Emma lay weakly against him with her eyes closed, her body completely drained, nearly in shock.
"Drive faster!" Nicholas roared, tightening his arms to hold her closer.
From the moment he'd found her, his nerves had been stretched to the breaking point. He was terrified that if he loosened his grip even slightly, she would disappear.
He didn't understand why he felt such burning emotion—perhaps it was because of the child they'd lost.
All this time, she had borne that pain alone, and now she was injured again. The guilt was overwhelming.
Finally, the car reached the hospital, pulling up smoothly at the emergency entrance.
Nicholas carried Emma out, practically kicking the car door open as he strode rapidly inside.
"Doctor! Now!"
His shout echoed through the empty emergency department.
Immediately, doctors and nurses surrounded them with a gurney. "What happened?"
"External trauma, knife wound to the left arm, severe blood loss, and she was in a car accident earlier." Nicholas was concise, carefully placing Emma on the stretcher.
The doctor quickly examined her, pulling back his jacket to reveal the wounds. Even the experienced physician's brow furrowed deeply.
"The wound is deep. Prepare for cleaning and suturing immediately!"
"Patient has lost blood—check blood pressure and prepare for transfusion!"
Orders flew rapidly as nurses sprang into action.
Emma was wheeled into the trauma bay.
Nicholas stood guard outside, watching the door close, separating him from her.
He leaned against the cold wall, her blood still staining his clothes.
Time crawled by, each second pure torture.
From inside came the sounds of doctors and nurses working, instruments clinking, and Emma's suppressed gasps of pain.
After a while, a nurse hurried out.
"Sir, the patient is allergic to anesthesia. She says to proceed without it and suture directly."
Nicholas straightened abruptly. "What did you say?"
He rushed to the trauma bay door and pushed inside.
The doctor was holding surgical forceps, preparing to begin suturing the longest gash on her arm.
Emma leaned back in the chair, her face even paler than before, beads of cold sweat covering her forehead.
She looked at the doctor, her lips moving slightly, her voice soft but remarkably clear. "Go ahead and stitch it. I can handle it."
Nicholas's heart clenched again. She was actually allergic to anesthesia.
He suddenly remembered Evelyn's words, "She was in so much pain during surgery that she passed out."
His chest felt heavy and uncomfortable. He stepped forward. "Isn't there something that could substitute for anesthesia? Something to reduce her pain?"
The doctor looked troubled. "Sir, she does have a documented history of anesthesia allergies. Forcing it would be extremely risky."
Emma closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they held a calm clarity—or perhaps numbness. "Doctor, please begin."
The doctor said nothing more. "All right, I'll be as gentle as possible. If you can't bear it, just cry out."
The wound was too long and deep. The needle pierced her flesh.
Emma's body went rigid, her head bowed low, teeth biting down hard on her lower lip until blood beaded there.
Her other hand clenched into a tight fist, nails nearly digging into her palm, but she didn't make a sound.