The Scarred Man

Chapter 6

**Dominic**

I am filling out papers for the company when a man comes barging into the office room, feather scarfed ruffled and all.

I look up at him, unimpressed, as he trots in his seven inch heels to my desk. 

"You've got some nerve! Leaving him to fend the whole place as he's sick as a STD-filled-whore! He's barely breathing!"

What?

"One, you better show me some respect before you find yourself lying in a ditch; two, what the f*ck are you talking about you walking circus." The man gives me a sarcastic smile.

"Honey, been there, done that. And Miles, you stupid son-of-a-b*tch! You can't just leave him out in the freezing rain and then demand he takes an extra shift! He can't even stand!" The she-man shouts.

"Show me." I demand. A sudden bout of some kind of emotion rushes over me. I can't lose an employee that good. 

The man hurriedly leads me to the back of the bar and shuts the door behind us. On the couch is Miles, sweating and shaking with loud, rasping breathes making their way out of his mouth. I crouch down beside him and shake him.

"Miles, get up." I command, but as always he doesn't listen. I place my hand on his forehead and hiss at the temperature. At 106 degrees a human's brain could have severe damage, any higher and it would fry. My heart quickens and my breath comes out ragged.

"Damn it get up! I am commanding you and as my employee I demand you to listen or there will be severe consequences!" I shout. My mind goes berserk and I can't stop myself from reaching over and shaking him rapidly.

"Get up, get up, get up!" 

Then, in the midst of my panic surprisingly strong arms wrap around my torso and pull me away from the body. Though I'm farther away, I still can't take my eyes away from his prone form. What the f*ck is wrong with me?! I never cared about all the people I've killed, but he's-- it's different somehow.

"What the f*ck is wrong with you?! You think shaking him like he's a fucking maraca is going to help him?!"

"He needs the hospital!" 

"Oh, how could I have never thought of that! What a fucking genius you are; how could I possibly have known that a sick man would need a hospital?....No dip you fucking block-headed gorilla! I just don't have the vehicle to drive him or the right heels on to carry him!"

"Esus?" Miles rasps out. 

"Jesus?! Never-mind, we're going to the psych ward if he thinks I'm anything like-OW" 

"I may play with corsets and bat droppings for a living but that doesn't mean I can't lay you down puny boy! Now, pick him up and lets go!"

Ignoring the anger at his disrespect, I grab one of the blankets off of Miles and wrap him into it. Then, I hold him up against my chest and follow the Drag out the door. I feel rough pants against my chest and wince at the obvious difficulty Miles is feeling in order to breathe. 

-----------------

I walk into the ER with my men trailing behind me and Miles tucked against my chest safely. I walk to the front desk and the lady looks at me, bored.

"I need immediate medical officials to care for him," I gesture down to Miles, whose breathing has significantly deteriorated and body spasms increased harshly, "and his very own room. My men and I will stand security with him."

"Yea, no. You can wait in line like everyone else and fill out these forms. The doctors will see you when they want to. Unless you can cough up some more money you will stay right in that room with the rest of the people." She nods over to a room where many obviously poor people are waiting. They all have children or elderly attached with different varying degrees of illnesses/injuries. Her disrespect for not only them but me makes me grit my teeth. 

"I will only say this once more: Get. Me. A. Doctor. And. A. Room. NOW!"

She ignores me and looks back at her computer. I nod to Rafael, who reaches over and grabs her by her hair. He pulls her over the counter and with almost no difficulty I hold Miles with one arm against my body and my beloved pistol to her temple with another. 

"I warned you." I whisper and I know she can barely hear it against her own blood pounding in her ears as well as the screams of the people around us.

"Now," I announce, "I will not hurt anybody if a doctor will come out immediately and a private room provided. You have two minutes to comply." She cries out as Rafael drops her onto the floor and kicks her when she just lays on her hands and knees. She sobs. 

"Wipe those disgusting tears and snot from your face. You caused this. Not me. 1 minute." I command. She cries out again and hurries to the telephone. Soon enough, the double doors open and two doctors rush towards us. They stop and hold their hands up guns are pointed towards them. 

"I want ID."

After a brief interrogation they lead me and three of my men into a room. The rest of the men under the rule of Rafael stay outside in the common room to ensure nobody contacts the cops(ever), and the security feed is clipped and given to us. I lay Miles  on the hospital bed and draw the covers around him. I turn around and face the obviously terrified doctors.

"Help him. Or you die."