Teach Me (The Gentlemen's Club)
Teach Me (The Gentlemen’s Club) Chapter 30

Nicholas

The sound of whirling rotors from the combat helicopters stirred the Thames the balmy air, approaching the docks of St. Katharina, the blades’ reduced sounds creating a vortex wind, disturbing objects and dust on its path, they easily found The Green Meadows, its flag dancing on the wind. Landing stealthily, assault rifles ready, in practised formation, crouched low, they advanced towards their target.

A container ship, with a least ten aluminium 20′ x 8′ TEU, painted in dark blue. Sinclair was in one of those boxes. Possibly being tortured. His jaw clenched.

“Redington,” He heard Lucien through their comms. The Earl had a birds-eye view of the ship, out of sight, his sniper rifle pointed to the vessel. “Concentrate. I count five armed men on the forecastle.” After a few seconds, bodies began to fall on the ground and frigid waters. “Clear.”

Cerdic gave a signal and they boarded the ship. As planned, their men scattered, securing every part of the vessel. Blasting the entrance to the tower and accommodation, they entered the rooms, beam lights pointing at the screaming Sylvia and wide-eyed Melody.

Not wasting any time, Nicholas walked directly to her. “Shut the f**k up! Where is Sinclair?” When she didn’t answer right away, he grabbed her throat and squeezed hard, she began to lose air and she was clawing at his hand. Nicholas growled, rage-filled him when his dark gaze went to the monitor. His sweetheart was hanging from the ceiling. Naked and unconscious while a screaming Paul was writhing on the floor. “Tell me now!” He stared at Melody. She was pale, trembling in fright. Sandringham placed her in handcuffs. Good.

“Container 19. At the foremast.” She answered. Her eyes filled with tears of remorse. The duke ordered their men to find the TEU container.

In his haste, he let Sylvia go, she slumped on the floor, gasping for air. “You are going to be killed together with your pathetic husband.” He promised before turning towards the mangled doorway.

Lady Tanning screamed and cursed, sputtering nonsense towards her daughter. Everyone shouted in warning, then guns went off. In the madwoman’s hand was a Baretta, pointed at Melody. “F*****g, slut. She sold us.” She cackled, b***d began to fill her mouth while Cerdic held her down with a savage growl, her eyes dimming while gazing towards her left, content of the damage she had done. At Sinclair’s friend, who took the bullet intended for Nicholas, slumped on the floor, chest bleeding. Sandringham leaned towards her, trying to staunch the b***d. Melody tilted towards the marquis, whispering something faint, he nodded. Promising. Contented, she closed her eyes and drew her last breath.

Jared, face uncompromisingly hard, glanced at the shocked expression of the viscount. “I got her. Go save your woman.” At the same time, one of their soldiers, chest heaving came running to them.

“We found the container, my lord.” Not wasting precious time, Nicholas ran towards the foremast. What he found inside chilled his b***d. His heart constricted. For the first time in his life, tears filled his eyes. Sinclair had collapsed on the wet floor. Thick metallic b***d beneath her. Unmoving. Barely breathing.

“No,” he whispered. Wrapping his girl in thick blankets handed to him by someone. She was cold to the touch, her face swollen from the beatings. He held her gently while his men were cutting the chains from her hands and ankles. “Hurry,” F**k! The damage they had done to her… “I need EJ.” His voice was hoarse through the comms. Tears made his vision blurry.

“I am here, my friend. Let’s get her to the hospital.”

***

He never left her side while Huntley and some nurses tended to her deep wounds. The once smooth plain of her back was filled with deep long crisscrossed bleeding lashes. She had lost a lot of b***d and was about to lose more because her head injury had to be drained. Her face was too pale. They just came from the operating room where Huntley had to drain the b***d putting painful pressure on her temple.

“Why is she not waking up?” He asked. Worried. She was resting on her belly, her upper body completely bare except for the white bandages covering her back.

“She will. I need to put her to sleep, Redington, that will lessen the pain she’s feeling. She will be on and off for a few days.” Huntley murmured. His hands, encased in white gloves, stitching the deepest wounds to stop the bleeding on her upper arm.

“How…I need to know…the extent…” Nicholas’s throat closed. His hands cradled his head, feeling responsible for what happened to the love of his life. Dejected, he rubbed his face.

“Two broken wrists. Head concussion that will take weeks to heal. Same for the deep gashes on her back. Her left eardrum has completely shattered, rendering her completely deaf. Jaw and shoulder dislocated. No signs of s****l assault from the rape kit. Though from what we saw, the fucker tried to. Your woman was badass. We are so proud of her.” EJ finished. “And I happen to know you will be by her side helping her heal. Be patient. I would also recommend therapy. Both mental and physical.”

“I will give her the best of care.” He blinked back his tears. “Be with her every step of the way.”

The baron sighed, done for the moment, he faced Redington. “Stop blaming yourself, Nick. You have taken every precaution that you can think of. We couldn’t have foreseen the desperation in Melody that had led her to betray you and Sinclair.”

Melody. The Sinner or the Saint. Maybe both. She was the reason for Sinclair’s successful abduction but she also helped them in his fiancee’s rescue. And the woman had paid dearly by saving his life. “Sandringham made a promise to her.”

“Which we all know our friend will fulfill no matter what.” The doctor responded and he stood. “I will need to check on my other patients so I will leave you here.”

“How are they?” Nicholas had visited his mother and sisters briefly while Sinclair was in the operating room, they were resting so he left them silently, placing soft k****s on their foreheads before he exiting their rooms. He hasn’t seen them since.

“Very vocal,” Huntley smirked. “Try to get some rest. I will be back later.”

Nicholas nodded. There were comfortable couches and daybeds around the spacious VIP room, a coffee table, a small dining area with a pantry, and an ensuite bathroom. Overall, he was satisfied with the amenities but he wouldn’t want to sleep too far from his sweetheart just in case she woke up and needed him.

There were still a lot of loose ends they had to address. Sylvia survived her gunshot wound. She was in a holding cell in the warehouse. Lord Tanning was still alive. And Paul…

He took a deep breath to calm a bit. Nicholas would deal with the fucker when the time was right. The frat boy will not be going anywhere. Just like his pervert of a father, he was kept alive for one purpose only.

He took a deep breath. He hadn’t had any sleep since yesterday and it was almost 48 hours. Dark brown gaze, always trained to Sinclair softened.

Her bed was big enough. Gingerly, he laid beside her, on his side, his face buried on her hair, he took a deep breath. Her sweet scent of amber vanilla soothing him.

His wife-to-be was safe. She was warm and breathing beside him, he was lulled to sleep in no time.

***

With a start, Nicholas woke up to screams of anguish.

Mumbled and incoherent.

Sinclair. His sweetheart. She was having a nightmare and trying to get up. Her injuries hindered further movements.

“Shhh…my sweet.” He sat slowly. His warm hand cup her cheek, turning her to him, her soft brown eyes were looking past him in a daze. Bright, pained, and delirious. She was with fever. “Let me take care of you.”

“Nick,” she cried, shaking her head. “Don’t leave me.” Her face burrowed to his neck, she sobbed harder. Her tone was different, raspy and low, she couldn’t hear herself pronounced the sound but her voice brought tears to his eyes.

“I am not going anywhere.” He murmured, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. His hand held her h*p, conscious of the rawness of her back, letting her cry until she was asleep, clinging to him, afraid to let him go. Making sure she was comfortable, he pressed a button on the headboard.

Huntley came back with two nurses. “She has a fever,” was all he said. The doctor worked on Sinclair while she was in his arms. Every time one of the nurses tried to move her, she would wake up and scream. After some time, Nicholas growled. “Just let her be. I got her.”

“I will be running another panel of b***d tests, check the level of infection she has.” His friend murmured, injecting something on the tubes attached to Sinclair. “This will keep her sedated for another day. She had to be on her tummy, Nick.” The doctor said. She was sleeping on top of Nicholas, making sure he would not be able to move.

Pecking her head, he nodded. “I will move her later.” He yawned.

“Is it always like this?” EJ, Baron Huntley, asked softly while he was observing the couple. The nurses left them to give them privacy.

“With the right woman, YES. She will be the air you breathe and you will only be whole when you are with her.” Nicholas answered.

“I hope someday…” The doc stopped.

“You will. Someday, my friend.”

***

The next time he woke up, he was surrounded by females. His mother and sisters smiling shakily and Lady Louise, gently fixing Sinclair’s hair in a loose braid.

His precious patient was again sleeping soundly beside him. Slowly, trying not to jostle her, he got up. Embracing his mother, then her sisters with a sigh of relief.

“I am glad you are all okay.” He uttered, leading them to the nearest sofa.

“You have to tell us what happened. Ej was vagued. But he told us we were poisoned by Melody? I couldn’t believe it. I always liked that girl.” Rebecca, the Dowager exclaimed. Disbelief lacing her voice.

With a heavy sighed, Nicholas decided to not leave them in the dark. His story started from Sinclair’s abusive childhood. Her father and Sylvia’s abandonment and hatred of her daughter. Cerdic’s discovery of the child tracking organization was led by some lords in the ton. Their capture of Lord Tanning. Paul’s obsession with Sinclair. Ultimately Melody’s role in the kidnapping, the desperation that led her to betray them. “She had paid with her life by saving me. I want to help give her a proper burial. And clear her name.”

“Of course, my son. I will help you.” His mother patted his hand. “If I might make a suggestion, though.” Nicholas nodded. Waiting, “You need to go home. Take a bath and shave. You stink and you might give Sinclair a scare if she sees you like this.” His sisters giggled.

“What if she wakes up?” Nicholas knew his mother was right, reluctant to leave his fiancee’s side.

“I will be here just in case she wakes up. Your brothers-in-law are busy dealing with the press so your sisters will be staying with me.” The dowager assured him.

“I will stay, too.” Lady Loise said. She was busy wiping Sinclair with lukewarm water to remove some of the crusted b***d and grim clinging to her exposed skin.

Surrendering, he nodded. Gave his girl one last glance before leaving the room. To his surprise, he found Huntley waiting for him, his face serious.

“We need to talk, Redington. There is something important you need to know.”

His heart, for the umpteenth time since Sinclair was in danger, squeezed painfully inside his chest. Was his sweetheart very sick? The thought paralyzed him. “What’s wrong?”

“Come. You should be the first one to know. Well, aside from your fiancee.” Nicholas Stafford, Viscount Redington nodded, following his friend to his private office. Fear of losing her made him close his eyes tightly. Praying. Begging to the Man above.

-Please, God. Whatever she has, please heal her.-