Chapter 4

Adelaide paused a moment to try and catch her breath before she continued her long trek down the silent, empty road. She heard a vehicle in the distance and glanced behind her. Her breathing quickened as she recognized the same dark van from earlier. Apparently, the men found their dog and were returning from where they'd originally come.

Trying to ignore her pain and dizziness, Adelaide set about walking again, hoping against hope the two men would just pass by and leave her alone.

They frightened her. They looked more than a little rough around the edges with their leather vests and longish hair. The one that spoke to her sounded kind and had an attractive, thick Scottish accent, but…

That's irrelevant, Adelaide told herself. Liam is handsomea cop for crying out loud! And I should have stayed far away from him. I've learned my lesson—the hard way.

She shuddered as her thoughts returned to the men's van.

They could be hiding several victims, she thought. Or more scary men, for that matter.

Needless to say, the thought didn't calm her nerves the tiniest bit.

Trying to breathe through the nagging pain in her ribs, Adelaide managed to take a few more slow steps before suddenly crumpling to her knees again. Pain surged down her shin as her knee connected with a rock. She was vaguely aware of the sound of an engine revving and tires crunching over clumps of dirt and rocks.

"No," she whispered, fear engulfing her. Her heart-rate sped up as her chest heaved for air. So the men do have plans to attack me! She pulled the small pocket knife from her jeans pocket and flicked it open. I wonder if this is random or if Liam sent them. Trying to manufacture an adrenaline surge, she climbed unsteadily to her feet. "Please, just leave me alone…" she thought aloud, as she resumed her feeble walk. "Just drive past me…"

She had no recollection of stumbling but in the next instant, she was on her knees again and staring at the ground.

A car door slammed and then strong hands suddenly pulled her to her feet.

"Are you okay, lady," a warm, accented voice asked.

You're mine, Laidey…

"NO!"

The scream tore from her throat and she flung her knifed hand out, attempting to stab or maim, but a man's hand caught her wrist and prevented severe injury. Her ribs screamed in protest as she was grabbed and held tightly.

"Let…m-me…go…" she sobbed, glancing up as she felt herself being pushed backward. Liam's face glared down at her fiercely. "God…no…" she whispered. Then his face shifted and changed completely. An older man looked down at her, a mixture of alarm and unease on his handsome face.

The Scotsman from the van, she realized in fear.

A black goatee and mustache speckled with gray adorned the lower half of his face, and he had a scar slashing up each of his cheeks. The man's eyes were so dark they could only be referred to as black—and despite his dark gaze burning into hers, he wore an expression of deep concern.

Gently, but firmly, he nudged her up against the driver's side door of the van and pinned her arms to her sides. In the next instant, the other man inside the van leaned out and clasped his hand over her mouth.

"Easy, lady," the guy said softly. "We're not going to hurt-" He cursed loudly when Adelaide's teeth sunk into the tender flesh of his palm.

She began fighting furiously with the Scotsman in the hopes of an escape. But his solution to her struggle was to press his body firmly against hers so as to stop her squirming. Still trying to fight him, she quickly exhausted herself and slumped against her captor.

"Please…" she sobbed. "Please, don't hurt me…"

To her surprise, she felt the Scotsman's hand tenderly touch her forehead, then her neck.

"She's burning up," he said to his friend who'd emerged from the van holding his injured hand. "Her pulse is racing. And I'm willin' to bet she's hallucinatin'."

Adelaide felt herself fading and slid down the side of the van, till a pair of strong arms held her up.

"She needs a hospital."

"NO," she gasped loudly, as she had a sudden adrenaline rush. She struggled against the man some more. "Please… No hospital… I just… need a hotel… room… some sleep…"

"You need a lot more than that, lass," came the soft, Scottish-twanged reply.

Adelaide felt her arm being draped around the man's neck, and then the sensation of being lifted and cradled against his strong chest.

"Please, don't hurt me," she whispered, and sobbed softly. She grasped at the Scotsman's shirt collar as if to get his full attention. "Please…" Her head grew fuzzier till she had no choice but to let it fall against the man's shoulder.

"We're not gonna hurt ya," the man drawled with his accent. "We're gonna help ya and keep ya safe. Just stay calm, lady."

"No…" she mumbled. A cold shiver racked her slender frame, "Please, don't call… me that…"

"All right. Shhh," came the soothing reply. She felt herself being carried then, "How about tellin' me your name then, lass?"

She was laid down in what she guessed was the inside of the van. "Can I… sleep first? So… sleepy…"

"No, try to stay awake lad—Try to stay awake for me, okay?"

Adelaide was unable to answer as she drifted into a black oblivion.

00000000

Chibs cursed under his breath as he watched the young woman's eyes dim and grow heavier, till they finally closed completely.

"Tig, drive," he ordered urgently, "Get us back to the club house. I have some supplies there. And keep the dog up there with you. I have to see what I can do for the woman."

Wordlessly, Tig climbed behind the wheel and was barreling down the road only seconds later.

Chibs pressed his fingers to the side of the woman's neck and counted her pulse.

One fifty-two, he thought to himself. At the very least. That's not good—at all. Her skin was flushed, dry, and blazing hot—which meant she had a huge fever that was yet to break. "Sunstroke," he murmured to himself as he recalled her long walk from her car. I'd bet money on it.

"What," Tig called from up front.

"I think she's had sunstroke," Chibs called back.

Tig growled a curse and sped up the van, "How do you treat that?"

"Ice-water bath and IV fluids," Chibs replied, "But I may need meds too. When we get there, call Tara. See if she has time to come help me treat a sunstroke victim. In the meantime crank up the A/C full blast."

Tig obediently turned up the air-conditioning as high as it would go. "What was she thinking…walking out in this heat? Why didn't she call 9-1-1 or something?"

"Don't know," Chibs answered, dousing a cloth with a bottle of water and applying it to her scorching forehead. "Not important right now." He heard her whimper softly as the cool cloth touched her scorching head. A shiver racked her slight body.

"She's having chills, Tig, hurry."

Within a couple minutes, Tig pulled the van up to the clubhouse and got out to open the doors for Chibs. As he was leading Daisy to her tie-out, Venus Van Dam, his old lady came running out of the clubhouse.

"Oh, thank goodness you found her," she cried, running up to Tig. "Juice called me and said she ran off!"

"Relax, baby," Tig said, hugging his woman closely. "We got her back. And she helped us save a woman who was in trouble," he reported proudly.

"Oh, my," Venus drawled in her thick Southern accent. She looked over Tig's shoulder to see Chibs climbing out the back of the van. She watched as he tugged a woman's limp frame into his arms, and prepared to carry her inside. "The poor thing," she gasped, placing her hand over her heart. "What happened to her?"

"Long story short—Chibs thinks she has sunstroke."

"Tiggy! Call Tara," Chibs reminded him as he carried the limp woman toward the clubhouse, "I need her—like, ten minutes ago."

"Right," Tig said, and pulled out his cell. "I'm on it, brother."

"I'm going inside to see if there's anything I can do," Venus said, squeezing Tig's arm. She hurried back to the clubhouse to lavish the unconscious woman with her special gift of Southern hospitality.

She entered the clubhouse just ahead of Chibs, and waved her arms in a scatting motion, "Clear a path boys," she said loudly, clapping her hands. "There's a lady in need of medical attention here."

"Whoa," Happy exclaimed when he spotted Chibs carrying the female. "What's this," he asked, lunging forward and holding the door open for him.

"She crashed her car and was trying to walk somewhere. Sunstroke," Chibs explained. "Get the pool table cleared. I need to examine her and see what she needs." He heard Tig reenter the building as he carried the young woman to the pool table and waited while Venus and Juice hurriedly began clearing the table of the balls and cue sticks.

"Tara's on her way, Chibs," he reported. "What else can I do?"

"Grab a pillow for her head," Chibs began to toss orders, getting fully into medic-mode. "And I need ice. LOTS of it—everyone chip in with that. Make ice packs and someone else run a tub of cool water in one of the dorm bathrooms—dump some ice into that too." He cursed lightly then when the woman began convulsing. "Go BUY ice if ya have to boys. I'm gonna need a ton of it."

"I'll go get the bath drawn," Venus announced, once the pool table was cleared off, and hurried back to one of the dorms. Chibs gently deposited the shuddering woman onto the pool table's surface while everyone else went to raid the refrigerators' ice bins for the much needed ice. Bobby grabbed his key to the van and left to go purchase some as well.

Careful not to bump her head against the edging of the table, Chibs situated the woman so he could examine her to the best of his ability. She looked as though she'd already taken a blow or two to the head, judging from her bruises, so he didn't want to make any possible head injury worse.

And I don't think the bruises are from the accident, he thought, eyeing her damaged pale skin. They're not fresh enough. Most of them are at least a couple days old.

Tig returned with a pillow and gently lifted the woman's head so he could place it beneath her. She whimpered softly, but otherwise didn't stir.

"It's okay," Tig told her softly, brushing her hair away from her face. "We're taking care of you."

Chibs had grabbed a blood pressure kit and temporal thermometer and began to check her vitals. A minute later, he released the air valve on the inflation bulb and frowned from the results. He pulled the stethoscope from his ears and glanced at his watch.

"How is she," Tig asked.

"Not good," he replied, taking her pulse again. "Her temperature is 106.7, blood pressure is 216 over 118, and her pulse is so fast I can't count it. I hope Tara gets here soon." He looked at Tig then. "Go get the coat tree and a coat hanger to hang an IV on, okay?"

"You got it," Tig answered, and went to round up the items.

Chibs headed to one of their medical supply closets to get the materials he needed to start an IV and then hurried back to the woman—who was convulsing again. Tig already had the coat tree and hanger set up for him. Chibs quickly hung up the bag and did the necessary checks on the bag and tubing to make sure no air bubbles were present, then began the task of inserting the needle and getting the IV to delivering fluid to the woman. "Hold her in case she starts convulsing again," Chibs ordered. "I have to hit the vein just right."

"I'm here," came Tara's voice from the front of the room. "How bad is she?"

"Bad," both men answered in unison.

"She's had a couple of convulsions," Chibs said, and reported the woman's vital stats to her. "Have you got any meds with you that can help with any of that?"

Tara immediately opened her bag and pulled out some vials of medicine and syringes.

"Phenobarbital should take care of the convulsions," she said, drawing up a dose to inject into the IV. "It'll sedate her enough that she won't suffer through the ice water baths either. For her pulse and heart I'll give her some Inderal and Dobutimine, because if we don't slow that pulse down soon, her heart will fail."

Bobby entered then patted Chibs on the back, "I have a ton of ice in the van, brother. We should have all we need."

"Thank you," Chibs said. "Ya mind helping me dump some into the tub?"

"No, no," Tara interjected. "I might need you." She looked up at Tig. "Could you go help Bobby?"

"Sure thing," Tig replied, and followed Bobby into the dorm to get the ice bath ready.

Tara tried counting the woman's pulse again and looked up at Chibs, "She's definitely bad off. She really needs to be in a hospital, Chibs."

He nodded, "I know. But she refused it. Something happened to her—someone attacked her or was after her. She was scared to death when I mentioned a hospital."

"Well, we'll do the best we can then, and if she gets worse… We'll have to come to a decision," Tara replied, rechecking the woman's temperature. She cursed softly. "Ugh. She hit 107. We've got to get her in ice. Now."

Tig and Bobby reentered the room just as she finished speaking. "It's ready" Bobby announced.

"And we have a ton of ice packs ready when you need them. We stuffed them in the freezers," Happy reported from the kitchen area.

"Great, thank you everyone," Chibs said appreciatively.

Tara glanced up at him again, "Help me undress her, okay? We need to get her down to her underwear. Any excessive clothing will prevent her from cooling properly."

They both began working at pulling the woman free of her shoes, jeans and t-shirt, and then gaped at the sight of her ribs. One whole side had blackened.

"No wonder she seemed in so much pain," Chibs thought out loud.

Both his and Tara's eyes scanned over the woman further, and they noticed more bruising at her inner thighs.

"Oh, God," Tara murmured.

"Mother Mary," Chibs whispered. "Anyone who'd treat a woman like that doesn't deserve to live."

Tara tried to clear her head of what the woman had been through.

"I'll tape up her ribs once she's through with the ice baths and her temperature is stabilized. That's about all I can do for them besides get her some pain meds."

Chibs stooped down and lifted the woman up and then carried her back to the dorm, as Tara followed behind with the makeshift drip stand and IV.

Once he reached the tub of icy water, Chibs instructed Tara to set the IV stand next to the tub. "Support her head, okay," he asked. "I don't want her to bump it on the edge of the tub."

Tara reached forward and held the woman's head till Chibs had her settled into the ice water. The woman didn't even stir.

"That's good," Tara said softly, "She won't be feeling any discomfort right now."

"What about later," Chibs asked, concern creasing his forehead.

"She's going to have some later, yes," Tara clarified. "She'll have to be packed with ice off and on till we see if her temperature is going to stabilize. Also, with her ribs and all that bruising… Well, I can't write her a prescription without knowing her name."

"It's Adelaide Watson," came a soft reply from outside the door.

Tara looked puzzled, and Chibs actually gave a small laugh. "Chucky, get in here. How d'ya know her name?"

Chucky walked into the room sheepishly holding a wallet.

"I was folding her clothes for her, and this fell out of her jeans. Her ID is in there."

Chibs took the wallet and looked for himself, "Well, I'll be… He's right. Adelaide Watson." Chibs gave Tara a dimple-inducing grin. "Can ya write that scrip now, Doc?"