FOR THE STORY

FIVE: Savannah

When I come to,  Paul, a nurse and the club's unofficial medic, is standing over me.

"Savannah," Paul peers into my eyes with some sort of light.

I startle and try to sit up.

"Relax," says Chase. His strong hands firmly grasp my arms, preventing me from moving. "Paul says you're fine," he explains. "But just...relax for a minute."

"With a clunk to the head like that and passing out, a trip to the ER might not be a bad idea," says Paul.

"You didn't call 911, did you?!" I feel suddenly panicked. The last thing I want is my first fight to end in an ER trip. Plus I can't afford an ambulance. I halfway rise up on my elbows—this time Chase allows it—and turn my head to survey the scene. The three of us are alone in the locker room.

"Where's Bryan?" I demand as I scan the room.

Chase's lips tighten into a thin line at Bryan's name.

"I couldn't find him after," says Chase. "I called Paul, and didn't want to leave you until he looked you over. I guess took off with Tim and George somewhere down the street."

I sigh. Not surprising he'd taken off under the guise of showing the guests a good time. The other clubs on this block make this place look like a toddler's sandbox.

"Don't worry about Bryan," adds Chase, seeing the expression on my face. "I'm taking you to the ER."

"But... but you can't. The club! And the other fights."

Chase shrugs.

"Paul will cover." He glances up at Paul. "Is that okay?"

"No problem," says Paul.

There is no way—even if I had insurance. It would ruin my bigger plan. I would never live it down. I'd never become an insider to learn all the things I need to know. I sit up all the way, pushing Chase's hands off me roughly.

"I'm going home," I snap, more sharply than I'd intended.

Paul looks from me to Chase. "I'll be out there keeping an eye" He backs up, clearly not wanting to be involved in the controversy.

"Look." I focus in on Chase's face. "I'm fine, see."

He crosses his arms and stands. "Is there another reason you don't want to go?"

I lower my head."I uh...don't have insurance. I really can't afford it."

Chase frowns. "All recruits are required to have insurance. You signed the contract, didn't you?"

"Yes. I mean, I was going to. I just hadn't gotten to it yet. Bryan said it would be fine."

Chase's jaw tightens. "Did he now?"

My stomach drops. In truth, Bryan could care less. He's probably just never noticed I never signed it. I was going to get insurance soon just as soon as the first payment for my story came through. 

"Look. Chase. I'm sorry to mess things up. But I'm broke. I can't go to the hospital. My roommates at home. I'll get an uber."

I retrieve my phone and blink at the blurry screen.

Chase reaches down and snatches the phone away from me.

"Hey! Give that back." I have a strange fear that he'll start thumbing around and see my notes, the seed of my story.

Chase pockets the phone. "You're not thinking clearly and I'm sure Bryan isn't either."

My fists clench. What an infuriating man. I should have taken my chances with Bryan.

"No? I'm a grown woman. You can't keep me against my will."

"No." Chase frowns. "Here are your choices. Go to the ER; I'll send you with Paul, or ...you're coming home with me."

My eyes roll and I sit silently. None of those choices work for me.

"Savannah," he says. "You just bled a ton and passed out. I'm not letting you out of my sight, whether you like it or not."

"You," I grumble finally. "I choose you then. But you have to promise me something."

Chase doesn't look happy I'm still trying to negotiate. "What."

"You can't tell anyone. About my fainting, you helping me, any of it. I'll never live it down."

He thinks about it for a second, then nods.

"Also, can I have my phone back?"

I'm cursing when Chase leaves to settle up with his employees. How could he put me in this position? I can't say no to him. I'm clearheaded enough to realize that I actually shouldn't be left alone, but I can't imagine a worse situation than Chase taking care of me.

I've clicked through my phone ten times already wanting to call Uber, my roommate, drunken Bryan—really anyone to get me out of this situation. But I can't think of anyone to call who wouldn't make the situation worse.

I finally set to washing my hands and wiping some blood off my face. I hear the door to the locker room burst open and Chase hurries in with an armful of clothes.

"You're still here." He stops short as if surprised.

"I told you I would be," I say, trying to not sound annoyed. I'm not sure why Chase is taking me as his responsibility but an appropriate reaction is probably not contempt.

Chase shakes his head. "Here," he says offering up the clothes to me. I nod and wrestle on a too-large coat which looks ridiculous over my tiny shorts.

"I couldn't find extra pants," says Chase sounding apologetic.

I nod. I hadn't worn pants in the first place. I gather up my stuff-- a handful of fabric.

"I'm ready to go."

"Okay, cool." Chase runs his fingers through his hair again. "You sure you can walk?"

I nod with more confidence than I feel. "Let's go."

We almost get out the door without seeing anyone. I'm hanging onto Chase's arm for support, and he's trying his best to be patient as I grit my teeth and walk slowly. We're literally at the door when I hear footsteps behind us.

"Chase!" says a female voice urgently. "What on earth are you doing?" It's Layla, Chase's ex. At least I think she's his ex.

I glare at him, imploring him to keep silent. Layla is a huge loudmouth, and I don't want him telling her what's up. It will only make me look weak, an easy target for the others to take down.