by Ranae Rose
He’d have to get in touch with Dylan, make sure he took care of her. It was the only thing he could do, until they let him out on bail.
He fucking hoped to God they did that.
CHAPTER 14
“What are you doing?” Hannah asked, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed inside an ER room.
Jenna held her phone aloft. “Don’t move; I want this to be as clear as possible. And can you pull up your sleeve so it doesn’t cover your shoulder at all? You’ll need these pictures to show why Ben had to do what he did.”
Hannah’s pulse quickened as she pulled back her cap sleeve, fully exposing her misshapen shoulder. It hurt, but she couldn’t have cared less – Jenna was right.
“Take as many as you need.”
“It looks awful. I think the bruising shows up even better in the photo, even if your tattoos do hide some of it.”
“Good.” The coppery flavor of adrenaline was dancing on her tongue, had been for the past half hour. What would happen to Ben? What had she done?
Even the pain in her shoulder couldn’t fully distract her from her worry. As Jenna had driven her to the hospital, it’d become more and more clear in Hannah’s mind that Ben might face criminal charges.
It wouldn’t be right, and it wouldn’t be fair, but it might very well be reality. He’d injured the other man badly.
“Can you lift up your arm a little so the fingertip bruises from where he grabbed your biceps are visible?”
Hannah complied as best she could, barely biting back a moan of agony.
“Is the pain that bad?” Jenna lowered her phone and frowned.
“I know, it looks gross.”
“No, I mean, you’re crying.”
“No I’m not.” Her eyes stung and were overly-moist, but there was nothing streaming down her cheeks.
“Yes you are.”
Hannah frowned. “I’m one of those people who cry when they get mad. It’s embarrassing, but I can’t help it.”
“I’d be mad too if I was you. Hell, I just met you today and I am mad. That asshole deserved every bit of what Ben gave to him.”
Hannah nodded, but her anger toward her assailant was nothing compared to her anger toward herself. Jenna didn’t know the real reason why she was mad at herself – why this was all her fault. And she was too ashamed to tell her.
So she sat on the table with guilt boiling in her stomach like acid, burning as a doctor ordered an x-ray, examined her shoulder, administered a muscle relaxant and manually manipulated the joint until her shoulder popped back into socket. The procedure was excruciating, but as soon as it was done, her agony lessened.
She listened in a daze as the doctor told her he didn’t think she’d need surgery. Normally, she would’ve been relieved – the idea of someone cutting through her tattoos wasn’t something she savored. At the moment, she harbored no capacity for relief. She just wanted to leave.
Before she did that, she explained to the doctor how she’d sustained the injury and what had happened afterward. It was important that the doctor remembered her, because Ben was probably going to need his word on the severity of the damage her assailant had caused her.
By the time she finished explaining, a police officer had arrived. She told him exactly what had happened and made it explicitly clear that she wanted to press charges.
* * * * *
“I’m being charged with aggravated assault. It’s a felony.” Ben shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in his clothes, which were probably crawling with germs from the jail. They’d done the preliminary arraignment via video conference, and it’d gone by in the blink of an eye.
“Yeah.” Dylan pulled out onto the street in front of the jail. “I know.”
A sinking feeling hit Ben. What the hell did Dylan think? He didn’t seem surprised that Ben had fucked up again.
“The guy’s jaw is broken and he lost a couple teeth,” Ben said. “He’s got a concussion, too. They said I’m being charged with the felony instead of simple assault because of the extent of the damage and because if my friends hadn’t stopped me, his life might’ve been jeopardized.”
“Hannah said you smashed his face into the bar.”
“He deserved it, the stupid fucking asshole. He attacked her and dislocated her shoulder.”
“She told me all about it.”
“I need to check on her.”
“They took care of her shoulder at the hospital. She’s okay.”
“Still.”
“Do yourself a favor and go home and grab a shower and some sleep first. It’s two a.m. and you look like hell.”
“I’m just stressed. I’ll drink some coffee before I go.” The magistrate had set Ben’s bail shortly after he’d been booked in, allowing Dylan to bail him out.
Tired as he was, there was no possible way he’d be able to sleep without seeing her first, without seeing for himself that she was all right. Bars were literally the only thing that could keep him from her, and now those were gone.
“What are they charging the asshole from the bar with?” Dylan asked.
“Public intoxication and two counts of simple assault.”
Blood roared in Ben’s ears as a metallic taste filled his mouth. He couldn’t think about it without his rage returning. The fact that he was being charged with a felony for intervening while the man who’d just about ripped Hannah’s arm off was getting away with a couple of misdemeanors was far too bitter of a pill to swallow.
At least he knew the bastard was in pain.
“I don’t see how there’s anything simple about what he did to Hannah,” Dylan said.
“You don’t have to tell me it’s bullshit. But apparently since she didn’t have to stay at the hospital and won’t be crippled for life, it’s only simple assault when a man rips a woman’s arm out of socket.”
“It’s going to put her out of work for a while. She won’t be able to tattoo with a stiff or painful shoulder.”
Ben bit the inside of his lower lip until he tasted blood. Everything about the situation was completely fucked-up. He wished to God he could go back in time and never take Hannah to the stupid fucking pub.
His right cheek throbbed, and he wished the pain was worse – bad enough to distract him from the anger and hopelessness that were crushing him from both sides, like a vice.
“For the record,” Dylan said, “I think the guy got what was coming to him.”
“Thanks.”
Dylan saying that meant something. Not enough to change anything about the situation, but still. At least now Ben didn’t have to worry about Dylan deciding that he was a total piece of shit.
“If someone did that to Crystal he’d be lucky to walk away alive, let alone with any teeth left.”
“Apparently the police don’t get that. I’d like to see one of them stand there and do nothing after someone did that to someone they gave a shit about.”
“They have to uphold the law, and dozens of people saw what happened. Your charges might not hold up in court. I’m sure that asshole’s will, though.”
“Maybe mine won’t, but if they do, I’m going to jail.”
Dylan said nothing.
“And I don’t mean for a couple days this time,” Ben added, staring out the window. Everything seemed dark, the streets beyond the glass a blur of grey.
If he ended up with jail time, his relationship with Hannah would be over. His career would be over. Everything would be over. He’d sealed his fate tonight, and it’d be weeks, maybe months, before he knew what it was.
It was unthinkable, but it was true: after fucking up everything, uprooting his life and starting over again, struggling day after day to reach an even keel, he might be thrown back onto the drawing board.
No, worse: there’d be no starting clean and rebuilding with a felony on his record. He probably didn’t have the mental stability to make it through a prison sentence without going off the deep end, anyway.
He’d fought so hard to make
it to where he was, and just when things had started to feel right, life had shown him how fragile his stability really was.
The enormity of that reality weighed on him, and he knew: he couldn’t let his life be destroyed slowly and painfully by a felony conviction and its consequences. Better to get it over with all at once. The sentiment surged through his veins along with his blood, roaring in his ears.
“We’ll get you a good lawyer,” Dylan said. “Maybe you should see your therapist on Monday, too.”
“Why? What can he do about any of this?” Ben had seen a therapist for a few weeks, months ago, when he’d first moved to Pittsburgh. He’d done it primarily to placate Dylan, who’d been pushed to the brink of a nervous breakdown because of Ben’s shit.
He hadn’t enjoyed it, but he’d felt too guilty to refuse. After he and Dylan had gotten into the swing of living together and he’d gotten past the worst of his medication’s initial side effects, he’d stopped going.
“Nothing, but I think it’s a good idea.”
“The only person who can do me any good by talking now is a lawyer. And even that might not mean anything.”
“Stop talking like it’s hopeless – it’s not. I don’t give a shit how much it costs; we’re getting you the best lawyer we can find. Don’t get desperate on me.”
Desperate. He wasn’t, yet. But it’d be hard not to be if he was convicted.
* * * * *
Hannah swung her apartment door wide open before Ben could even knock. What had she been doing – watching for him through the peephole?
She nodded toward the window, where the drapes were pulled all the way back despite the fact that it was three in the morning.
“I saw you pull into the parking lot. Oh my God.” She rushed forward and threw her arms around his waist – well, one of her arms. The other was in some sort of brace. “I’m so sorry!”
He stepped awkwardly inside, and she unwrapped herself from around him long enough to pull the door shut.
What the hell did she think she had to be sorry about?
“How’s your shoulder?”
“Fine. They popped it back into place.”
“It doesn’t look fine.” Her gorgeous tiger tattoo sleeve was hidden by the black brace that crossed her chest, wrapping her upper right arm and leaving the other free.
“I’ll live. It was really painful before they fixed it, but it’s bearable now.”
He reached out and touched her good arm, not daring to lay hands on the other one. “How long do you have to wear that thing?”
“A few weeks. The doctor said it’d do more good than a sling – apparently those don’t hold the arm at the best angle.”
“You’re going to miss a lot of work.” The heavy feeling in his gut got worse. He’d thought seeing Hannah would bring some relief, but it didn’t. She might not be in as much pain as she had been last time he’d seen her, but she had to be in some, no matter what she said. And she was fucked work-wise.
She loved her job and was just getting established at Hot Ink. This was the last thing she needed.
“I’ll miss some,” she said. “There’s no telling quite how much yet. But the good news is that I’m left-handed. This could’ve been worse.”
“It could’ve been worse, but it’s pretty damn bad.”
“Right.” She looked at him, then down. “I’m blabbing about my arm, and you just got out of jail. I—”
“I mean that what happened to you was bad – I wasn’t talking about me. I think the charges are bullshit, but I deserve some sort of punishment for letting that happen to you.”
“That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t deserve any of this.” She shook her head, and her voice was softer when she spoke. “What are the charges?”
“Aggravated assault. That’s a felony.”
“What? But the other guy is only being charged with simple assault and public drunkenness.”
Ben grimaced. “I know.”
“They sent an officer to the hospital to ask me questions and whether I wanted to press charges,” she said. “I said yes, of course. I can’t believe they’re charging you with something more serious. That’s bullshit! I’m calling the police station.”
“Don’t stress yourself out,” Ben said after a while. “You need sleep. It’s almost morning.”
“I can’t sleep when I’m this mad.”
That made two of them.
“You were only stopping him from hurting me worse,” she said. “It was completely justified.”
There was no question that he was in trouble, but hearing her say that lessened the weight of the invisible burden on his shoulders. He’d feared that she’d be mad – think he’d gone too far, or too hard.
He knew he hadn’t, but apparently the police had their doubts.
“Jenna took photos of my injury before and after they reset my shoulder at the hospital. They look terrible. So we have photographic evidence of what he did, not to mention the medical records and a doctor who can speak on my behalf if needed.”
“Thanks,” he said, surprised that she and Jenna had thought of that, that they’d taken measures to help him. “The police saw your injury at the scene, though. It’s not like it’ll be news to them.”
“Maybe not, but it can be hard to get a story straight in a crowded bar. People were running around trying to be the ones to tell the story. Who knows what crazy stuff those officers heard. I don’t think many people in the bar saw that man assault me – people didn’t really start paying attention until punches were being thrown. The truth will come out in court, and the truth favors you.”
“They think I went too far. I probably would’ve been charged with simple assault if I hadn’t smashed his face into the bar. That’s definitely what broke his jaw and knocked a couple teeth out. I don’t know about the concussion. They’re saying I could’ve killed him if I hadn’t been stopped.”
“That’s ridiculous. He didn’t get any less than he deserved, and he’s not dead. I would’ve done the same thing to him myself if I’d been able!”
Her eyes were bright with anger, her beautiful face lightly lined between her eyes and dark, plunging brows. She was gorgeous, and her words killed worries that’d taken root in Ben’s mind during the drive to her apartment. Worries that she’d hate him for what he’d done, that she’d think he’d been in the wrong.
At least he didn’t have to worry about that. The magnitude of the shitty situation was still crushing, but for now, he could breathe.
“I’ll go to jail if I’m convicted. There’s a two year minimum sentence.”
Hannah stood with her mouth open, her eyes still flashing. But she didn’t say anything, not for a long time.
When she finally spoke, her angry expression was gone. Instead, she looked crestfallen.
“I’m sorry,” she eventually said, her voice choked. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault!”
“Stop it. You know it’s not.”
“No, it is. You don’t realize…”
“There’s nothing about this I don’t realize.”
She looked him in the eye, and he could see that hers were too shiny, almost glassy. She was holding back tears.
“I only went to the restroom to cool down. I was upset by the waitress flirting with you, and I wanted to clear my head. I left the table so I could have a few moments alone, and on the way back I bought a drink I didn’t even want just to procrastinate. God, it was so stupid…
“I was acting like a spoiled little girl, and that’s how I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. If I’d been an adult about things, none of this ever would’ve happened.”
Hannah had been jealous? It seemed so absurd. She had nothing to be jealous over. But then, maybe it hadn’t been true jealousy so much as the hurtful memories the waitress may have stirred up.
“I didn’t realize you were upset. You should’ve said something.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t. And now look a
t the clusterfuck we’re in the middle of. God, if you’re convicted… I don’t know how I’ll live with the guilt. I can’t stand the thought.”
“Don’t torture yourself with a game like that. We could both retrace our steps and point out things we could’ve done differently to avoid the situation. If I hadn’t asked you to come with me to that stupid fucking bar in the first place—”
“I was having a good time. And I know you did it for me. You don’t even drink.”
“Still. It was a bad idea, and it was my idea.”
“Ben…” She grabbed one of his hands with her good one and squeezed. “This will all work out in court. It has to – nothing else would make any sense.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I have to be. He hurt me, and you stopped him from doing something worse. That’s a fact, and you hadn’t even been drinking. He was shitfaced and obnoxious. You were in the right, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a prior record of some sort. Unlike you, who—”
“I’ve got a prior record.”
She froze. “You do?”
“Nothing major. Just a disorderly conduct charge. But … it’s something.”
He’d known that charge would come back to haunt him. He’d fucking known it.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have just assumed. But like you said, that’s nothing major… What happened?”
She looked up at him from under dark lashes, like she was afraid he’d berate her.
And he knew the time to tell her had come. A hell of a lot sooner than he’d anticipated, but here it was. Easing into the relationship and choosing the right moment wasn’t an option now that he’d beaten someone bloody and senseless on her behalf.
CHAPTER 15
“I’m bipolar,” he said. “Type two. But I didn’t know it until last year. I was unmedicated and in a bad way when I went out drinking one night. Got so out of control that the police picked me up. I don’t really remember what I did, but I didn’t hurt anyone.”
