In A Bed On A Jet
Zorah desperately wanted to open her eyes, but her head was pounding like a hundred drums were playing in her head. Keeping her eyes tightly closed she tried to clear her throat. She could hear the sound of people talking nearby.
“Help,” she croaked quietly. Her throat was aching and the rasping sound felt weak in her ears. “Icaro,” she called his name into the quiet surrounding her. She tried to lift her arm to touch her throbbing skull, but her arms felt weighted down.
“I’m afraid Icaro is not here,” a voice called to her from somewhere beyond her. “I would suggest you lay there and try to let the drugs run the course to get out of your system. My nursing staff has hooked you up with an IV and a catheter.”
A catheter? Horror filled her chest. Her fingers reached to search her body to check for clothing.
“Relax, Zorah. You are not in any danger at this time. Medical professionals changed your clothing, and nobody has seen your body other than the nurses.”
“Who are you?” she finally got her eyes opened and focused on the shadowy figure in the far corner of the room. A light elsewhere in the room barely illuminated his figure.
“All in due time, Zorah,” the man commented.
She turned her attention back to the state of her body and realized she was in a bed, the kind you would find in a hospital with rails, and she was truly hooked up to an intravenous system. “Why are you doing this?”
“Zorah, enough with the questions. Save your energy for when we get home.”
“Home? Where are you taking me?”
The loud annoyed sigh from the direction of the figure made her look back in his direction. He was positioned behind a desk if she could guess. It kept her from seeing how tall he was, whether he was fat or thin or, bald or sporting long hair and whether he was friendly or mean. Her guess from where she lay was, he couldn’t be a friend because friends didn’t tranquilize friends.
“Where is my husband?”
“Would you stop talking?”
“No. I want to go home.”
“You are going home.”
“My home with Icaro.” The sound of papers shuffling had her squinting in the darkened room. “Are we alone?”
“I just told you the nursing team is here.”
“How long was I asleep?”
“Two hours. Long enough for me to get you out of Sicily and on board my jet.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“For you, Zorah.”
“Did Caiu Giarre put you up to this?” The question was met with a moment of silence which prompted her to believe her question was accurate. “He did, didn’t he? He is so jealous of the life Icaro has, the life Icaro was born into, he’ll do anything to take what is his. He paid you to kidnap me.” She gave an exasperated huff. “Icaro trusted him because they were friends, and this Walrus character does business with the family. Doesn’t matter I shut him down right to his face. He paid you to take me. I hope he knows I’ll never agree to be with him. If he takes me, it’ll be by force, and I’ll hate him forever.”
“The Walrus is not behind this rescue, Zorah.”
“Rescue?” She wanted to sit up, but her body still felt weighed down A thought dawned on her and she gasped, “am I tied to this bed?”
“You are strapped down, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re in a bed, in a jet and there was a takeoff which needed to take place. The best way to keep you safe was to strap you in. I couldn’t put you in a seatbelt, so this was the next best thing. It also allows for us to administer the medication and fluids you need and to ensure your body is monitored for any negative affects to the sedatives which were administered.”
“Administered? You shot a dart into me!”
“Better a dart than a bullet,” he retorted. “Staying with a man like Icaro Lucchesi could get you a bullet.”
“You said I’m being rescued. Who is rescuing me?”
“A friend.”
“I don’t have friends other than Sidonia Gaines. Pretty sure she didn’t pay you to get me away from Icaro.” She huffed when the man went quiet again and she turned her attention to the ceiling. A woman approached her, and Zorah noticed she was in a uniform. The nurse attached a blood pressure cuff to her arm and clipped what felt like a clothespin on her fingertip. She wanted to fight the woman when she lifted the blanket and boldly checked between her legs and then followed a tube. “Hey!”
“Sir, she has passed one bag of the fluid and then half of another.”
“We need all three through before you take the catheter out. Based on her height and weight, we need a minimum of this much fluid to help flush her system. Add another bag but keep it at the same flow rate. I don’t want to overwhelm her kidneys or bladder by rushing it.”
“Are you a doctor?” Zorah turned her head to the man.
“Not even close.” He gave a sardonic laugh. “Can you please stop fishing and try to rest? We have another several hours before we land, and I have a lot of work to do before we get there.”
“Several hours? Are we flying back to America? Oh god,” she felt nauseated. “Ippocrate Giannone. He did this. He paid your or the family in New York to bring me back to him. Please. You have to turn this plane around,” she started protesting furiously against the belts holding her firm to the bed. “Please. I can’t go back there. He’s a sick bastard and I can’t go to him. Please. Please. Bring me back to Icaro! I’m begging you. Whatever he paid you, Icaro will pay double.”
“You are scared of Father Giannone?”
“Please!” she screamed at him. “Whatever he paid you, my new family will pay more. You need to let me go home to them.”
The man rose from behind the desk and while his face was still hidden in the shadows, Zorah, despite her thrashing on the bed, could see he was not as tall as Icaro, but he was thick in the shoulders.
“What did Father Ippocrate Giannone to do you which has you so scared Zorah Esposito?”
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