Shadows of Recovery (Everhart Family #3)

Chapter 13

Thirteen

T he harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor cast stark shadows as Damon continued to drag Sophie through the halls, directing his men on what he wanted them to do. With his grip tight on her hair, her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding with fear.

"Take me to the central supply room, pretty lady doctor," Damon sneered.

Sophie clenched her jaw, her resolve steeling as she bent her knees, trying to pitch her weight to the floor. "No," she spat defiantly. "I'm not showing you anywhere unless you release a hostage."

Damon's grip tightened, his patience wearing thin. With a swift motion, he yanked her up and tossed her into the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through her head. Sophie's vision swam, and she fought to stay conscious again.

"Release… a… hostage," she demanded, her voice trembling with adrenaline and defiance.

Damon pressed the barrel of his gun against her forehead, his eyes cold and calculating. "Where's the supplies?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Sophie refused once more, her jaw set. “No.”

"You need to learn to say ‘yes, sir,’" Damon growled, his frustration boiling over. With a cruel twist of his grip, he dragged her farther down the corridor, his fingers digging into her flesh. "Who should I shoot?" he taunted, the threat hanging in the air.

“Free a hostage,” she demanded. Sophie stood her ground, her heart pounding but her voice steady as she spoke.

"Release a hostage, Damon," she said, her tone firm, though every instinct in her body screamed at her to run. "But that’s not enough. I have patients in the ICU—patients who need immediate care. And there are two critical patients back inside the ER who can’t wait any longer."

Damon studied her for a long moment, the smirk fading as he considered her request. He took a slow step closer, the menace in his movements unmistakable. "You’re pushing your luck, Doctor. I’ve already let one go. Now you want more?"

Sophie’s pulse quickened, but she didn’t back down. "These people’s lives are at stake, Damon. They need treatment now, or they won’t make it. If you’re going to keep control here, you need to show that you’re not just a monster."

Damon’s eyes narrowed, his smirk returning, though it was colder this time, more calculating. He leaned in, his face inches from hers. "You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But everything comes with a price, Sophie. You want me to let you treat your precious patients? Fine. But you’ll owe me."

A shiver ran down her spine at the implication in his words, but she refused to let him see her fear. "I’m just doing my job. If you let me help them, you’re doing the right thing."

Damon emitted a sinister chuckle. "The right thing? We’re way past that. But I’ll tell you what—I’ll let you treat your patients. The ones in the ICU and the ER. But remember this, Doctor—you’ll owe me. And I always collect."

Sophie swallowed hard, knowing she had little choice. She had to save those patients, no matter what it took. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just let me do my job."

Damon nodded, satisfied with her answer. He straightened up, gesturing for one of his men to step aside. "Go on then, Doctor. But don’t forget—you’re on my time now."

Sophie nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she hurried past him, her mind racing. She had bought herself some time to save lives, but the cost of that time weighed heavily on her. As she moved through the ER, heading toward the ICU, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just made a deal with the devil—a deal that would come back to haunt her.

Damon stood close to Sophie, his presence suffocating as he rested his hand possessively on her hip, a silent reminder of the power he held over the situation. His dark eyes tracked the movement of the hospital staff as they wheeled the patients to the doors, his expression growing darker with each passing moment.

The sound of wheels squeaking against the linoleum floor echoed through the tense silence, and Sophie could feel Damon’s anger simmering beneath the surface. She forced herself to remain calm, even as his hand on her hip made her skin crawl.

One of the nurses, her face pale with fear but her hands steady, pushed the stretcher carrying a critical patient toward the exit. Damon’s eyes narrowed as he watched, a low growl escaping his throat.

“What the hell is this?” Damon hissed, turning his head slightly to glare at Sophie. “I said you could take them out, but I didn’t expect a parade of stretchers. I figured they’d walk.”

Sophie met his gaze. “These patients can’t walk, Damon. They’re critical. If they could walk, they wouldn’t need to be in the ICU or the ER. You agreed to let me get them the care they need. This is the only way.”

Damon’s grip on her hip tightened for a moment, and Sophie winced but didn’t pull away. She couldn’t show weakness now. Not when lives were on the line.

“You’re testing my patience, Doctor,” Damon growled, his eyes flashing with anger. “I let one hostage go, and now you’re pushing more demands on me.”

Sophie took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “You’re the one in control, Damon. Letting these patients go shows you’re not just here to hurt people. It shows you still have a line you won’t cross.”

Damon stared at her, his eyes searching her face as if trying to decide whether to lash out or relent. For a long, tense moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken threats. Then, with a sharp exhale, Damon’s grip on her hip loosened.

“Fine,” he spat, his voice dripping with irritation. “But this is it. No more. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and now you owe me.”

Sophie nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she watched the nurse push the stretcher out the door. She felt a small sense of relief, knowing the patients were on their way to the care they desperately needed. But that relief was tempered by the heavy weight of Damon’s words.

As the last stretcher disappeared through the doors, Damon leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten our deal, Sophie. You’ve just bought yourself a debt you’ll have to repay. And I’ll make sure it’s a payment you won’t forget.”

Sophie suppressed a shiver, her heart pounding in her chest. She had saved the patients, but at what cost? As Damon finally stepped back, the cold emptiness of the room closed in around her.

Sophie's heart hammered in her chest. With a resigned sigh, she led him to the supply room.

As Damon's people began to pack up the surgical trays, Sophie exhaled, relieved she had succeeded in her demand. But there was no reason for celebration, only a sinking feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Damon dragged her into a small, secluded room within the ER. He threw her to the ground, his face twisted with rage and lust.

"You think you're so much better than me, pretty lady doctor? Well, I'm going to show you your place." He beat her savagely, each blow filled with a sickening mix of anger and satisfaction.

Sophie cried out in pain, her body writhing under the assault. Tears streamed down her face as she realized the full extent of his intentions.

Sophie whimpered, "Please, Damon... don't do this..."

Damon leaned down, his voice a cruel whisper, "You're mine now, Sophie. And you're going to learn to be obedient. Your scrubs are dirty. Take them off," he ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

Once she was undressed, he tied her to the patient bed with rolled gauze and violated her, his actions filled with a horrifying blend of dominance and cruelty. Sophie's screams echoed through the small room, but there was no one to save her.

Damon reveled in her suffering, taking pleasure in her pain. His cruel laughter filled the air. "No one says no to me.”

* * *

Tristan and James arrived at the command center outside the hospital just as Ethan’s team was returning from their investigation in Eldon Falls. The brothers made their way through the bustling activity.

Ethan spotted them first and approached with a welcoming nod. "Tristan, it's good to see you.” He shook Tristan's hand before turning to the man with him. "You must be James. Welcome back to South Dakota, though I wish it were under better circumstances."

James nodded, his expression serious. "Same here. What have you found out?"

Ethan gestured for them to follow him into the command center. "Come with me. We need to update you and Brad on what we’ve learned."

Inside, the command center was a flurry of activity. Brad Killian was at the center of it all. When he saw the three men, he walked over.

"Tristan, James," Brad greeted them with a firm handshake. "I'm sorry about all this. We’re doing everything we can."

Tristan, barely holding his emotions in check, nodded. "What have you found out, Ethan?"

Ethan took a deep breath and began to brief them. "We spoke with Trace Whitlock and got some important information. It appears the family has no idea what Damon is doing. They’re in the dark, likely because Trace is ill and unable to maintain control. They might be looking for a new head of the family soon. I think the information is credible."

Tristan, who knew the Whitlock family dynamics better than most due to his medical background, broke a professional boundary in his desperation. "Trace is seriously ill," he said, his voice cracking. "He was discharged from the hospital a few days ago. They’re likely on the verge of a power struggle within the family. Damon could be using this situation to position himself."

Ethan nodded, appreciating Tristan's insight. "Exactly. Damon has always been trouble. We found out he had numerous issues in school, even though they had their own schoolhouse, and there have been multiple allegations of sexual assault from women who left the Eldon Sect."

Tristan’s face paled, and his hands clenched into fists. The thought of Sophie in the hands of a man with such a history made his blood boil. "We have to get her out of there," his voice rose in desperation. "We can’t let this monster keep hurting her."

James placed a calming hand on Tristan's shoulder. "They will, Tristan. We need to stay focused. Losing it won’t help Sophie."

Brad stepped in, his voice calm but firm. "Tristan, we understand how you feel. We’re all doing everything we can to save Sophie and the other hostages. It appears she is directing his attention to herself to save some of the hostages. The critically ill have been released. A young doctor who was shot confirmed that.” Brad took a breath. “We need you to stay composed and think clearly. Your insight is valuable."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "We have a plan. Knowing Damon’s background helps us understand his behavior. We can use this information to negotiate and possibly exploit any weaknesses."

Tristan took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "You don’t fully understand. The night I met Sophie, she was out with friends. A man kept trying to pick her up. I saw him drug her drink. It was Damon Whitlock.” Tristan looked sick. “When his father was admitted, he showed interest in Sophie. That’s when we realized he was the man from the bar.” He shook his head. “She wanted it left alone. Now, knowing what he’s capable of..."

Brad swiped his eyes. "We’re going to get her out of there."

James, his voice steady, added, "Tristan, we have to be the support Sophie needs, trust in the team here, and do everything we can to aid in the rescue."

Tristan nodded, the resolve returning to his eyes. "You’re right. Let’s focus on the plan and get Sophie out of there safely."

The team huddled together, the tension rising. With the new information about Damon, they refined their strategies, looking for any possible advantage. The clock was ticking, and every moment was critical.

* * *

Sophie lay curled up on the cold floor of the emergency room, a thin white blanket her only protection against the harsh reality she had been forced to endure. Blood trickled from her wounds, stark against the sterile white fabric, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her mind struggled to comprehend the horrors she had been subjected to. Damon stood by the door, a brutal smile playing on his lips as he watched her, his amusement evident.

Sophie’s ER phone in his pocket rang, and he picked it up, his eyes never leaving her. "This is Damon."

“Hello, Brad Killian.” Damon's gaze flickered with twisted satisfaction. "The others are fine. Dr. Reynolds needed to be let go; he was of no more use to us after being shot. But the pretty lady doctor here, she’s been quite the fun plaything."

Sophie continued to shake, her sobs silent but wrenching. Every fiber of her being ached, and the humiliation and pain were nearly unbearable. Damon’s voice droned on in the background, a malevolent presence that seemed to seep into her very bones.

Damon opened the door slightly and called out to one of his followers, "I need a fresh pair of small scrubs for the lady doctor," he ordered, his tone casual, as if requesting something as mundane as a cup of coffee.

As the follower hurried to comply, Damon returned his attention to the phone. "You know, I’m not unreasonable. I’ll consider releasing more hostages if my demands are met. I understand about the car. Even a four-wheel drive will be difficult to use in this snow. We can be a little patient."

Damon’s eyes glinted with a perverse satisfaction. "So, in light of me being understanding about the car, I need you to back off. Let us finish what we started here. Any interference, and things will get much worse for everyone involved."

Damon laughed, a chilling sound that sent a shiver down Sophie’s spine. "Safe? Safety is a relative term, but for now, they’re alive. That should be enough for you."

The follower returned with a pair of small scrubs, handing them to Damon, who tossed them onto the floor near Sophie. "Here you go, pretty lady. Put these on. We can’t have you catching a cold, now can we?"

Sophie flinched at his words, her hands fumbling to grasp the scrubs. Her movements were slow and painful, every shift a reminder of the violence she had endured. She forced herself to focus, to block out the fear, and managed to pull on the scrubs with trembling hands.

Damon returned to the phone. "I’ll call you again soon. In the meantime, keep your distance. Any sign of a breach, and you’ll be responsible for what happens next."

Inside the room, Sophie managed to sit up, her body refusing to stop trembling. She pulled the scrubs around her, a small bit of dignity. Her eyes met Damon’s, and she saw nothing but cold, calculated malice.

She vowed to herself that she would survive this, no matter what it took. She had to. For herself, for Tristan, and for everyone else who was counting on her. The ordeal was far from over, but she would have to find the strength to keep going.