Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 38

*
Oana's POV
*
I stood up from the door, dropping my phone into my bra again, after trying to turn it on six times. The previous times that I'd turned it on, it wouldn't stay on long enough to call David back. Now, it wouldn't even start.
Looking around, I scanned the warehouse for any other exit point, but the only other escape routes I could see were the small windows up near the ceiling. I started to walk back towards my chair, when I heard a car pull up outside.
My heartbeat skyrocketed, and I rushed over to grab the metal chair I'd been sitting in. Moving beside the door, I raised the chair, and backed up out of sight from whoever was going to open the door. As I stood there, I tried desperately to stop myself from shaking when I heard the car doors opening and closing. Following that, voices sounded, and several sets of footsteps approached the door. Seconds later, someone stopped outside and inserted a key into the lock outside the door. In slow motion, the door opened, and a man appeared. The instant I saw the man's head, I swung the chair as hard as I could. The chair slammed into the man's skull, and he crashed to the floor, causing an eruption of Spanish outside. Lifting my chair again, I barely had the time to inhale, before the second man dashed into the room.
I brought the chair down on against his head too, and he stumbled back against the wall, clutching his head. Dropping the chair, I dashed out the door, screaming when I saw Pedro, just outside the door, reach out to grab me.
"No!" I screamed, kicking at him, and trying to pull away from the grip he wrapped around my neck. He cursed at me in Spanish, and shoved me back against the outside of the warehouse.
"You think you can get away?" He snarled, pressing me into the wall, and jerking my head to the side by grabbing a fistful of my hair. I yelped and jerked my hand up, slapping him across the face. Pedro grabbed my wrist, letting go of my hair, and crushing my hand in his grip. I cried out as he bent my wrist backwards, and leaned in to my face. "Do you regret kicking me?" He seethed.
I took his distraction as my chance.
My left arm shot up from beside me where it had been motionless, and I slammed it down in between his neck and shoulder. The screw in my left hand pierced his skin, and with a strangled cry, he released me and fell backwards, the metal piece sticking out of his neck.
I took off running, my shoes flying off, and my phone falling somewhere behind me. I heard someone shouting and mistakenly looked back. Tripping over the loose gravel in the parking lot, I slid to my hands and knees, the gravel ripping open my skin as I scraped against the stones. I tried to get up and keep running, but Pedro's man had already reached me.
He started screaming in Spanish, and I yelled at him to leave me alone, as I started to scramble to my feet. He lurched forward and shoved me to the ground, pulling out a gun.
"Stop!" I screamed, struggling away from him, but his finger moved to the trigger and the shot rang out. I squeezed my eyes shut, flinching when the gravel beside me sprayed into the air, hitting me like needles. I whimpered and covered my head closing my eyes and waiting to feel the pain of the bullet. But the pain didn't come.
"Oana!"
Jerking my arms away from my face, I looked up through the gravel dust to see a man running towards me from a black Range Rover. The man in front of me had collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around his mouth and leaking into the gravel.
I gasped for air, shoving myself to my feet, and running towards the man.
I already knew who it was. My eyes were filled with tears, and they streamed down my face as I tripped towards Damon, but I didn't care. He reached me in moments, and I fell against him, sobbing. "Damon we n-need to g-go!" I pleaded, glancing back to the warehouse frantically.
"Dear God, Oana, you're a mess!" Damon's green eyes scanned me over, and he grasped my shoulder to keep me near him, as I took a step back.
"Call the p-police!" I ignored his last statement, and shoved my hair out of my face.
In that very moment, sirens sounded in the distance, and I whipped my head to the side to see Pedro stumbling to his feet.
Damon grabbed his gun from behind his back, and took a step forward.
Frantically, I glanced behind me to where the cop cars were approaching, and steadied myself.
The police surrounded the warehouse, and several officers approached Damon and I. Shouting and sirens filled the air, pounding against my head.
"Sir! Sir, I need you to put your gun down!" A female officer, with her gun drawn approached us, and I switched my eyes to Damon. He was glaring at Pedro, his knuckles white around the handle of his gun. I looked anxiously between the officer and Damon, but he was paying her no attention. Instinctively, I reached out and touched Damon's arm, bringing his green eyes down to me, breaking his focus on Pedro. I knew exactly what he was contemplating the moment his eyes met mine.
I drew my brows together, "Damon..." I said, my voice quivering as I lowered my hand. It was like Damon snapped out of a trance, because he clicked the small lever on the side of the gun, and the clip fell to the ground. Turning to the cop, he held out the gun for her, barrel down.
She took the gun immediately, and lowered her weapon, ordering us to follow her behind the wall of cop cars.
Numbly, I followed the woman, until she brought us behind the cars, and several medics who had just arrived, rushed me towards an ambulance.
Damon tried to come after me, but the female cop asked him to remain with her so she could understand exactly what was going on.
I sat down on the ambulance, trying to focus on the questions the medics were asking me, but it was too much for my spinning brain to handle. I felt a stinging on my left wrist, and jerked my hand away, gasping.
The medic who had just dabbed my wrist with an alcoholic pad, paused and met my eyes.
I shook my head, "I-I'm sorry..." I trailed off, rubbing my temples, "I'm kind of jumpy..." I breathed.
"Don't be sorry, it's alright." The medic said, offering me a small smile, and crouching beside me. "What's your name?" He asked gently, searching my face.
I let out a breath. "Oana," I said quietly, "Oana Atkins."
"Nice to meet you Oana, I'm Will." He smiled, and I tucked my hair behind my ear. "I'm here to help you, and if it hurts, you can always ask me to stop, ok?" He said, making eye contact. I nodded, slowly holding out my wrist again. Will gave me an encouraging smile, and carefully grasped my wrist to dab at the cut around my hand. "What's your favorite food, Oana." He asked, keeping my mind from the work he was doing.
I bit my lip at the stinging, but just shrugged. "...Probably pizza," I breathed, when he paused to open a new pad.
"Same here," He chuckled, holding out his hand for my right wrist.
"Who called you guys?" I asked suddenly, watching as he wiped away the blood on my other arm.
"A woman called into the police station about half an hour ago, saying there was a hostage situation. When there's hostages, we come along to make sure everyone's ok." He explained, dabbing carefully at the raw cuts on my wrist, before stepping back and checking me over. Will seemed to see something else on my arms, because he clicked his tongue and reached for another alcoholic pad.
I glanced down, seeing some blood on the inside of my hands, and rolled my arms over to reveal road burn up both sides of my arms.
I lifted my eyes to Will, and he offered an encouraging smile as he pulled out some bandages.
"This is going to hurt," I muttered, blowing out a breath and leaning back against the ambulance.
"I have to go grab some more peroxide, so you can take a small break." Will patted my shoulder, climbing up into the back of the car.
David!
I suddenly remembered my brother, and I stood up from the back of the car, searching for Damon.
"Damon!" I called, seeing him beside another cop car, speaking to a detective. Immediately, his head snapped in my direction, and he turned as I approached. I glanced at the man in front of him, and he nodded. His eyes dropped to my bloody arms and legs, but I ignored his gaze.
"Can I borrow your phone?" I asked Damon, pulling my arms back against my chest to hide the cuts.
Damon nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and handing it to me.
"Miss Atkins, have you seen a medic?" The detective inerrupted whatever Damon was about to say.
"Yes, I'm heading back to him now." I took Damon's phone, murmuring a thank you, and walking back towoards the ambulance.
"There you are, I thought you'd run away from me." Will let out a relieved breath, as I approached the ambulance. I forced a small smile, and shook my head as I took my seat again.
Will got to work on my road burn, and I dialed David, using my other arm to hold the phone up to my ear.
"Hey. Any luck?" David's voice came over the phone, and I bit my lower lip.
"David," I said quietly, and the phone went silent. "Damon's fine, the police are here, and I'm alive." I laughed into the phone, when I heard David choking back his tears.
"I'm glad you're alive," He finally managed, and I smiled a little. "Where are you?"
I frowned, looking around, and trying to see where I was.
"The old factory on Gilmer."
I glanced down to Will as he paused cleaning my arm. "We're at the old factory on Gilmer." I repeated into the phone, and David mumbled something to someone.
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
*
Will cleaned the cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs, wrapping them in bandages, before he let me go to speak with the detectives. Damon had to check in with the medics once I was finished being cleaned up, but he came back shortly after he left.
"Mrs. Atkins, can you affirm that Mr. Santurez was the one in charge of your abduction?" The man asked me, scribbling into his notebook.
"Yes."
I'd answered that question at least three times already.
"And did Mr. Santurez cause you any bodily harm while you were captive?"
"Do you have eyes?" Damon muttered beside me.
I shot him a glare before I answered.
"Yes."
"If you would please fill out this paper for me-"
Tuning out the detective, I took his papers, glanced over them and drawing my lips into a line. I had just explained everything to him that the paper asked.
"Something wrong?" Damon's lips twitched when he saw my expression.
I pursed my lips and glanced up at him in annoyance. "I explained everything that these papers asks for already." I muttered.
"Paperwork is your job Oana, what's a two page questionaire?"
I turned to Damon, and narrowed my eyes at him, dropping the papers on the ground.
His eyes followed the papers to the gravel, before they traveled back up to my face.
I cocked my head slightly, "No one asked you." With that I moved to go find out if anyone had seen David.
Damon caught my arm as I turned, and I glanced down at his hold on my wrist, before I looked up to him, raising my eyebrows.
"Ouch." I murmured, and Damon's gaze dropped to my bandaged arm.
"I'm sorry..." He released my wrist, but kept looking at me. "I wanted-"
"Oana!"
For the millionth time today, I heard my name, but this time I whirled around without hesitation.
In front of me, my brother had just jumped out of my car and was rushing towards me. Running to David, I hugged him and he picked me up, squeezing me too tightly.
"I'm so glad you're ok..." He whispered into my hair, as he set me back on the ground, but didn't let go.
"Other than not being able to breath." I coughed against his chest, and David let out a breath. Stepping back, he took one look at me and winced.
I narrowed my eyes at him, "I don't look that terrible." I crossed my arms.
"Yes, you do."
"Oh! You look awful!"
I looked past David to see Kenya climbing out of my car as well.
"I brought you a change of clothes, but you're so dirty, why don't I just run you to the Lawson's to shower?" Kenya told me, moving past David to hold me at arms length.
"My apartment-"
"Your apartment is a good twenty minutes from here and Damon's is a short five." She cut me off, pointing to the car. Meeting her eyes, I frowned, but Kenya cocked her head to the side. Giving up, I let out a breath and moved towards her car.
"Where are you going?" Damon asked, approaching from where I'd left him beside the police cars, to come stand beside David.
"Your place."