Reckless

Chapter 3

I was seeing stars for a minute, my head having smacked first against the bed of Sam's pick up truck and then a second time on the bits of parking lot gravel underneath the truck's wheels. I didn't have long to dwell on the dizziness, the strange noise that rang briefly in my ears. I only caught a brief glimpse of the green flash that appears on the horizon as the sun sets before the toe of a heavy boot came slamming into my ribcage. Roll away Sookie, I thought, but I couldn't figure out my bearings. Which way was away? I couldn't even see straight. The world seemed to get dark far too quickly, as though the sunset were just my imagination and it was really past eleven, the moon setting in the sky. There were more blows, painful blows, to my ribs and hips and legs. I might have been screaming, but I couldn't tell for sure. Nothing seemed real.

I could definitely taste blood on my tongue, though I wasn't exactly sure where it was coming from.

My mind drifted to Sam Merlotte, the guy who'd come to my rescue on more than one occasion. Usually I was on the offensive end of the fight, not the meat being pummeled by an unseen force. He was no more than fifty feet away, and for once, I wished my ability to read thoughts was more developed, more actively oriented. Oh fuck, Sam, just know that I need some fucking help, okay? Open the damn door! Help me! Sam!

Please…

I was in so much pain that I wasn't sure exactly where it was coming from. I reached out with blind hands and caught a pant leg. I yanked, with every ounce of strength I had. There wasn't much. I couldn't tell if I'd managed to stop the constant jabs of boot into bone and sinew. Had I accomplished anything at all? I forced one of my eyes open, but it wouldn't go much more than a slit. The sky was darkening, and I could see the face of a man. That was the extent of my observational powers, though.

"Sam?" I croaked. I instantly regretted speaking. It hurt just to think, let alone talk.

"Sookie," growled a voice that definitely did not belong to my boss.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," I groaned defensively. I thought about all those stories I'd heard from the minds of other women. Sometimes, after you got beaten to a pulp, they'd rape you, just to show you who was in charge. Well, no one did that kind of shit to Sookie Stackhouse. If I could have cringed with the memories of a regretful childhood, I would have. As it was though, I tried to drag my arms across myself. My limbs were heavy and I felt sick just moving them.

"You'll die if I do not," the voice said in reply.

"I'd rather die…" I whispered, my voice throaty and hoarse. I wanted to tell him I'd rather die than be a victim, but I couldn't find the strength to finish a sentence.

His arms slid underneath me. I shut my eyes to try to beat back the pain, and I swung my hand up to scratch at his face. It was all I could do and I was shamed by the femininity of the act. It was pathetic, harmless, a few drops of blood and I couldn't accomplish anything else. I was a sad act. A little part of my brain decided maybe I deserved to be caught in this sort of situation. I'd let my guard down. I'd let him at me. At least, if I passed out from the pain, I wouldn't have to feel his dirty hands on me. That was when I made up my mind to do it, to shut down. The last thing I heard was my name on his lips, and I couldn't even ask him how he knew it.

I woke up in a kind of daze, my eyes unfocused, my heart beating slowly and heavily in my chest. It took several seconds to recognize what I was seeing, and when I finally did see him, I couldn't believe it. Bill's lips were blood red, and his skin was glowing pink, like he'd just been exposed to the sun for hours without sunblock. He reached out to touch my face, but I rolled to one side, avoiding the touch. I don't like to be touched. The movement sent shivers of agony throughout my body.

"Sookie," Bill said in a distinct, growling voice. "Allow me to help you. You do not want to die here."

"I don't need your help. I'm fine." I grunted. Is it denial if you know you're in denial? I was clearly not fine, but damnit, I didn't need help from a vampire I'd met once in a bar and saved from a couple of strung out junkies.

"If you continue to lose blood in this manner, I shall have to turn you in order to extend your life. " Bill spoke so rationally that it seemed to make sense. Creepy.

"I'll be okay," I said, trying to convince him, or maybe myself. I tried to get an elbow up, but my arm wouldn't bend the right way. "Shit, arm's fuckin' broken."

"Much of your body is broken and bleeding, Sookie." Bill said, again in a matter of fact tone that would have been comforting if it weren't so strange.

"I don't have health insurance," I sighed. Times had been tight since Gran had died, and I'd had to let my policy lapse.

"You will not make it to a hospital, Sookie. You will die first." Bill said. I had trouble seeing him in any sort of detail. My vision was impaired, and it was very dark. For the first time, I realized I wasn't lying on gravel. We weren't in the parking lot behind the bar. I didn't know exactly where we were, to be honest. Bill seemed to move, though I couldn't see what he was doing.

"Drink this," Bill said. He held his arm to my mouth. Was that blood I was smelling? It didn't smell like mine. It was too thick, too hot.

"Drink what? I can't see anything."

"My blood will cure you, Sookie. You will not die if you drink it. I am repaying you for saving my life."

"Okay, I'm not that desperate." I sneered and tried to move away. I might have gotten a whole centimeter from where I started before the pain shot through me like nails through a piece of dry wall. But damnit, I wasn't giving up. If I kept up at this rate, I could maybe make it back to the bar. I trusted Sam, at least a little bit more than a vampire.

"You do not have a choice." Bill said. He took my head and pushed it to his arm, by force. I squirmed, smearing his blood across my mouth and cheeks and chin. No way. Sookie Stackhouse doesn't get forced into anything!

"Drink me, Sookie," Bill urged. He stroked the back of my neck in a way that I found soothing and disturbing at the same time. A drop of his blood stained my tongue. The flavor was like pennies and rust, like the smell of car parts baking in the summer sun. More of it slithered between my lips. I choked and spat, fighting against him more violently than I had before. I was still in so much pain, but it seemed to decrease with every second that Bill held onto me.

"No!" I screamed, my voice thick with saliva. I pushed him away, but I couldn't tell whether or not I'd pushed so much as he'd let go on purpose. Either way, I fell back onto a patch of dewy grass and blinked.

"You are right to be scared," Bill frowned. "I am a vampire. My blood will have strange effects on you. You have not had much, but it is enough to keep you among the living. You should go to a hospital."

"I'm not scared of anything," I retorted with a scowl. I could feel my toes, and it wasn't until right then that I realized I couldn't feel them a few minutes ago. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I will take you back to the bar." Bill sighed. He stood and then crouched to lift me into his arms. I thought about fighting him off, walking on my own, but I didn't know where we were and I wasn't sure I could walk.

"Did you kill Maudette?" I asked as he walked. My head rested on his flexed bicep. He was a big man, but I could take him if he'd killed my friend.

"The murdered woman? No." Bill said. I couldn't read his thoughts, but something told me he wasn't lying.

"It was a vampire that killed her," I growled. "I know it."

We were back under the lights of the bar parking lot. Bill set me down on my feet by the back door. I wobbled, but held onto the wall to remain standing. What was that look in his eyes? It better not be pity. I was fine, damnit. And I'd find out whoever the fuck jumped me.

"How do you know?" Bill asked frankly.

"Just call it a sixth sense," I remarked. I took the handle of the door and pulled it open with effort.

"Vampires are not men, Sookie. They make their own laws."

"I'm not a man either," I said, mimicking his tone. "I've been making up my own rules since my days on the playground. If it was a vampire that killed Maudette, I'll find him. And I'll kill him."

The door swung open and I turned to look at it. Sam Merlotte leaned out and stared at me, wide-eyed. He grabbed me with both hands and pulled me against his chest, gently but firmly. Maybe a little part of me wanted to sink into him, to just be safe with someone I trusted. I overcame that inclination fairly quickly.

"Someone jumped me in the lot, but I'm fine." I said, pushing him away. It was still hard. I could stand, but I probably still had some broken ribs, some fractures.

"Who?!" Sam almost yelled. He didn't go very far despite my pushing him. He backed up maybe three inches, still well within the boundaries of personal space.

"Don't know," I frowned angrily. I turned around to gesture at Bill, say he saved me, but he was gone. I could see stains of blood on the ground where I'd hit the gravel. "But when I find out, they're dead."

"You're going to the hospital, Sook." Sam said bluntly. "And don't give me any of your shit."

I managed to keep my boss at bay for a couple of hours, telling him I'd sleep it off on the sofa in his office. I said he could take me home after the bar closed, but he came into the office at ten o'clock, saying that Terry and Lafayette, the replacement bartender and the cook, were closing up for the night. Sam carried me back out to the parking lot, and I let him only because he was Sam. He put me in the passenger seat of the truck and pulled out of the lot just as Andy Bellefleur was pulling in. He had his siren going, and he stopped Sam just as we were pulling out of the driveway.

"You can't leave," Andy said. "This is a crime scene."

"Get out of the way, Andy." Sam growled in a way I'd never seen before. He looked almost inhuman. "Sookie needs to get to the hospital, now."

"What? Why?" Andy peered through the truck's tinted windows at me.

"Because she's hurt, damnit. Now move out of the way before I move you myself!"

"You get your ass back to this bar as soon as possible, Merlotte. We've got a crime scene on our hands! Double murder!"

"Who?" Sam sneered. I was listening now too.

"Mack and Denise Rattray, lying in the bushes, mutilated."