He stepped out into the cold January air of Chicago, leaving the bar to return to his hotel for the night. He wrapped his jacket closer to his body as crossed the street and headed down the sidewalk. His hotel was just a block away from the club he had been at. It was a little after one in the morning and he had an early flight back home, and he needed some sleep before then.

Just as he was walking past a darkened alley, his arm was grabbed and he was pulled into the alley. He was shoved against a brick wall, his head hitting hard, causing his sight to blur for a moment. He struggled against the man who had grabbed him, who was now pushing up against him. He could feel the man's breath on his face, smell the alcohol on his breath. Luke focused on the man in front of him.

He recognized him as the older man who had been trying to get him to drink and leave with him in the club until the club owner had kicked him out. The older man pushed his body flush against his, slamming Luke's arms into the wall, above his head with one of his own hands. He was much stronger then Luke. Luke could feel something pop in his right wrist and pain shoot down his arm. He cried out in pain.

The man was the same height as Luke. His free hand was running down Luke's chest, stopping at his belt. Luke finally found himself able to move. He was able to free one of his hands and roughly shove the guy back. He turned to run when he felt a jolt through his arm. The man had grabbed his right wrist, causing much pain. His arm was suddenly twisted behind his back and he was pushed against the wall again, this time his back was to the older man.

The guy had such a tight grip on his right wrist that Luke heard and felt a second and a third pop, and even more pain shot through his arm. Luke tried to ignore the pain as he twisted back around. His free hand forming a fist, he swung and connected with the guy's nose. He was free once again but just stood there. He was frozen, watching as the guy stumbled back a few steps, his hand over his nose.

Finally his feet were moving and he left the alleyway, running down the street, heading for his hotel. There was a park between him and the hotel and cursed himself for deciding to walk to the club instead of using his rental car. He entered the park and tried to stay on the path, keeping to the shadows in case he was being followed. He slowed from his run to catch his breath.

That was when he heard a crunch from behind but before he could start running again, his arm was grabbed and he was spun around. It was the same guy, blood running down from his nose. The guy brought his hand up and backhanded him. Luke hit the ground, crying in pain as he used his hands to catch his fall. His right hand was broken now, he knew it.

He was suddenly flipped onto his back on the snow covered ground and the older guy had him pinned between his legs. His arms were above his head once again and he struggled to get free for the third time. He tried to scream but the guy now had his other hand wrapped around his throat, choking him. There was so much pressure, Luke knew he was going to have a bruise in the shape of a hand wrapped around his neck in the morning. That was, if he was still alive in the morning.

Suddenly the pressure stopped and he was coughing and gasping for air, which was hurting his throat more, but he didn't care at the moment. He felt his hands being released and heard the tearing of his buttoned shirt, opening. He tried moving his hands to stop the guy, but found that they were bound. He didn't know when or how that had even happened.

He closed his eyes and stiffened his body as the guy above him moved down to his belt and jeans.

Luke woke with a strangled cry in his throat. He laid there for a minute, calming himself down, staring at the ceiling. After a minute, he turned his head to look at the clock on the side table. 4:32am. He grumbled as he sat up in bed and swung his feet off the edge. His feet hit the ground and he stood, shakily. He made his way into the hotel room bathroom and flicked on the light.

He turned the cold water on in the sink and with his arm that was not currently in a cast, cupped the water to splash it into his face. For a minute, he just listened to the water, his eyes closed, remembering that night like it just happened, when in reality, it was three months ago. He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He turned the water off and walked back into the room.

"Who the hell is calling before five in the morning." he mumbled as he grabbed his phone off the dresser and checked the caller ID.

Noah Mayer.

His sighed and declined to answer. He had broken up with Noah just weeks after his horrible trip to Chicago because what had happened when Noah had acted like nothing had actually happened to him. Luke was just sick of the way Noah was treating him, he broke it off and moved out of his mother's house and into the Lakeview, all on the same day.

He had a meeting at Memorial Hospital with the board, Chief of staff and a new doctor who had just moved to town and transfered to Memorial the week before. The doctor was a Neurosurgeon and would be heading up the Neurology wing that Luke's foundation was funding to build at Memorial. Luke didn't actually know who it was, not being on the board.

The only reason he was actually going to the meeting was because since his foundation was funding the whole project, he had asked to be at the first official meeting with the new doctor so he could get to know him. All he really knew about said doctor was he was only thirty-one years old and already one of the best, if not the best Neurosurgeon in the country. He was top of his class in Harvard as well.

He grabbed some clothes and headed back into the bathroom to take a shower. He wrapped his casted arm in a plastic bag so not to get it wet before undressing and stepping into the shower and under the steaming hot water. He just let the water run over his body for a good ten minutes before washing up. He took his time scrubbing his body and hair before rinsing off and stepping out.

He quickly dried and got dressed in his gray suit and dark blue tie, deciding not to wear the suit jacket. He re-entered the room after shaving and running his hands through his hair a few times, spiking it up. He had just cut his hair the day before so it was a lot shorter then when he had been in Chicago. After he was ready, he left the hotel room and headed for the elevator.

Luke was running a little late when he walked into the board room at Memorial. Everyone was already there and he smiled, taking his seat towards the end of the table, next to his grandmother, who patted his hand as he sat down. The meeting quickly got started with introductions first, as Chief of Memorial, Bob Hughes stood to introduce Luke and the new doctor, who Luke had not even noticed sitting across the table, a few seats down from him.

Luke looked over the doctor and something washed over him. He knew him, but he couldn't think of where he remembered his auburn hair or his icy blue eyes. He raked his brain, trying to remember if maybe he had actually seen a picture of the doctor somewhere in a medical journal or maybe in the news. And then it hit him. The new Neurosurgeon, introduced by Bob as Dr. Reid Oliver, was the one that saved Luke back in Chicago from the drunk that had attacked him.

He closed his eyes and stiffened his body as the guy above him moved down to his belt and jeans.

He could feel the tugging of his jeans, but then it all stopped. He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to open them, afraid of what he would see. But then he heard someone struggling and fighting to his left. He opened his eyes and turned his head to see the guy that was just a minute ago, attacking him, pushed into the ground with his arm twisted behind his back. He was being pushed down by another guy, whose knee was digging into the guy's back.

Luke found himself struggling into a sitting position and scooting away. The back of his head hit a bench and he froze, watching as his savior pulled the other guy to his feet and shoved him back down the path. He watched as the guy took off and then his savior turned back to him. In a few long strides, he was standing in front of him and he knelt down.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked, as he took Luke's bounds wrists and slowly untied them.

Luke hissed in pain from his right wrist and didn't say anything. He just watched the guy in front of him. He was beautiful in the light from the lamps on the path. He had auburn hair that curled a little and Luke liked that. Luke realized he was staring but he didn't care, until the guy looked back at him.

"Are you going to talk?"

"I..." was all Luke could say. His throat was still killing him.

He didn't have to say anything else. The guy had find the bruises on his neck and then he touched his left cheek, which made Luke finch and pull away.

"Easy," the guy said, turning Luke's face to look at him again, "You are going to have one nasty black eye soon and your wrist is broken. What's your name, kid?"

"Luke."

"Did you know who that guy was, Luke?"

Luke shook his head and tears were filling his eyes as everything suddenly started to catch up to him.

"Hey, don't do that." the guy ordered, "Come on, I'll get you to the hospital."

He helped Luke to his feet but they only got a few feet and Luke passed out.