by S. Cook
“He hit you,” I choked out in a strained voice.
The rage filled me up again.
“Baby, please don't. I'm fine. I want... I need you to not get upset. Just sit down.”
My fingertips searched her face, tracing the line of the bruise.
“I'm calling 911 and reporting this to the police. Then we’re taking you to the emergency room.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I can't afford it.”
I glanced at her and frowned again. The blood had already soaked through the dish towel and I shook my head.
“Then I'll pay for it, but you have to go.”
“Gabriel, I told you. Please don’t force me. I feel bad enough as it is. Let’s see if we can stop the bleeding.”
“Just stop, okay,” I shouted at her, and it startled her, but I didn't care. “You are hurt bad and I need to get you to someone that can help you. You need stitches and I’m not a doctor.”
“Don't yell at me,” she shouted back and I immediately regretted it.
Her expression softened, and mine did as well. My anger wasn't directed towards her. I just wanted her to get taken care of. Her hand was in bad shape, and I needed her to know that.
“I'm so sorry,” she whispered.
“Come on. I don't care how mad you get at me or if you never speak to me again. I’m not budging on this. You are going to the hospital, I’m paying for it, and I don’t want to hear even the slightest bit of resistance from you right now. Got it?”
Her bottom lip trembled and I ran my finger over it.
“Okay?” I asked.
She nodded reluctantly.
“Okay,” I said and grabbed her arm. “Now can you walk?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Let’s go to the car.”
I half-dragged her out of the bar and was grateful she could still muster up the energy to walk, because I couldn't carry her. The knowledge was like a punch to my gut. I pulled out my car keys, unlocked the doors and settled her into the passenger seat.
The Kia I’d rented this time was much smaller than the Audi, but it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that I rush her to the hospital as fast as I could.
“What happened to the fancy car?” she asked in a daze as I slid stiffly into the driver’s seat.
“You’re worried about the Audi?” I asked, exasperated.
“I was just wondering,” she whispered.
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window.
“Don’t go to sleep,” I said. “You need to tell me where to go. Where’s the hospital?”
“It's cold in here,” she said, shivering.
I grabbed my jacket from the backseat and draped it over her.
“You’re going into shock. It’s at least ninety-six degrees in here. Where’s the closest emergency room?” I asked again.
She looked at me blankly.
“Shit!”
I pulled out my phone and searched for the nearest hospital.
“Wait...”
“What?”
“I can’t afford it.”
“Not that again. I told you I’ll pay for it.”
My gaze lingered on the blood-soaked towel and my jaw clenched. I touched the screen on the phone and placed it on the dashboard.
“Either you tell me how to get there or the phone will.”
She looked at me in defeat and motioned behind me.
“It's that way. The closer one. It's like ten miles away. You have to get on the highway.”
“Thank you.”
I kept talking to her, asking questions, forcing her responses, as we were taught in the Army. It was a natural response for me, which was tragic in the sense that I had done it so many times before. I drove on the verge of speeding, although panic crept into every move I made.
I could sense it and I pushed it down.
I wanted to soothe her, so I reached out and touched her leg, reminding her of my steady presence.
When we arrived, I helped her out of the car, allowing her to lean on me as we walked to the entrance.
“Wait,” she said softly.
“Seriously, Lynette? We’re already here,” I said impatiently.
Damn, she was being unbelievably stubborn.
“When we get inside and they ask what happened, don't tell them the truth. Tell them I fell and cut my hand on the bottle. Don't tell them about Dad.”
“What about your face?” I reminded her. “Did you fall and bruise your eye at the same time? They’re going to think I did this to you.”
“If you tell them, they'll arrest him. Please. Don't say anything. Please,” she begged.
I let my fingers trail down her arm and captured her hand.
“I promise you, I will let you do the talking, But you need to come with me, right now. No more stalling from you. Enough already.”
Chapter Seventeen: Lynette
I nodded in agreement, pulling the jacket closer around me. He tugged on my arm and I started walking with him. The light of the emergency room entrance sign was a beacon in the darkness.
We walked inside hand in hand. The ER was almost empty and cold. We sat in the waiting room for what seemed like forever with me pressing an icepack to my bruised face. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and let me lean into him. His fingers stroked my hair.
They called me back after a while. My hand stung like a bitch and my face ached. The nurse looked at my condition and then turned quickly to Gabriel.
“I'm sorry sir, but you can't come back with her.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“I want him with me,” I pleaded, my voice small.
“I'm sorry ma'am, but its family only. Are you her husband?” The nurse said solemnly with another curt look toward Gabriel.
Gabriel shook his head.
I grabbed his shirt sleeve and held on for dear life.
“Either you let him come with me or I’m leaving.”
Gabriel leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“Go on in,” he whispered. “I'll be right here. I won’t leave, I promise.”
I shook my head.
“No. You made me come here. You’re coming back with me. That’s final.”
The nurse rolled her eyes, sighed and motioned us back. I clung to Gabriel letting him shoulder my weight. The nurse pointed me to the bed.
“Put this on,” she said, handing me a gown.
Then the nurse left, closing the curtain behind her.
“I can't get my shirt off,” I said after struggling with it for a minute.
Gabriel stepped over quickly and helped me pull it off, moving it gently over my towel-wrapped hand. The white cloth was dark with blood. Once free of the t-shirt, he helped me pull the gown on.
He sucked in his breath when he moved to tie it. His fingers brushed the bruises beginning to form on my neck. Climbing behind me on the hospital bed, he wrapped both of his muscular arms around me and pulled me into his warmth.
“You shouldn't...” I whispered.
“Don't start worrying about that now. You need me.”
I smiled a sad smile and curled into his body, cradling my injured hand. He stroked my face, my hair. My hand was throbbing. He kissed my forehead to comfort me. Our silence was broken by the doctor rushing into the room.
“Let's see that hand, young lady,” he said in a soft voice.
The doctor was a short round man with a kind face. I immediately felt comforted by his calm, assured manner.
I held out my hand without breaking away from Gabriel's embrace. The doctor unwrapped the towel from my hand, revealing the wound.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
“I fell on some glass,” I replied.
“You fell, huh? Funny how those things happen. What about your eye?”
The doctor flicked his eyes over to Gabriel.
“I hit the side of the bar when I fell. I own the Speakeasy bar over
on 9th street.”
“I'll get a nurse to stitch you up then. Sir, would you mind stepping out while I examine her?”
“No,” I said, gripping onto Gabriel’s arm.
“It’s hospital policy,” the doctor said firmly. “I can’t let you leave without an examination. I’ll be back in a minute.”
. The nurse came in moments later and cleaned my hand. The woman didn't speak, only looked at Gabriel with angry, accusing eyes. She stitched my hand quickly.
Gabriel kissed the top of my head and whispered, “My god, Lynette. They think I did this to you.”
I nodded and clutched my uninjured hand in his shirt.
“I would never do this to you.” His voice was choked. “And it's killing me that you would rather everyone believed that I hurt you than for you to just tell the truth about what happened.”
“Not right now. Please. You don’t understand.”
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears. They spilled out anyway from under my lids.
He brushed them away with his thumb. I lifted my face to look at him, the tears flowing down my face now. He kissed me, gently.
I moved my injured hand to touch his face, wincing when I tried to stretch my fingers. He grabbed my wrist and kissed my knuckles gently.
The doctor returned and after checking the stitches turned to Gabriel, “Step outside the curtain please while I examine her. In fact, there is a snack machine right down the hallway. Getting a little food in her might help.”
Gabriel didn’t argue. Instead he slid off the hospital bed and left the room without a word.
When he was out of hearing range, the doctor pulled down the collar of my hospital gown slightly to check the red splotches on my throat.
“Has he done this to you before?” he asked quietly.
“It wasn’t him,” I replied. “I know it must look that way. It was a drunken customer at the bar. The guy drank too much and didn’t understand why I wouldn’t go home with him. Trust me, he won’t be back. He was only driving through town so I don’t even know his name. If he ever shows up again, I’ll call the police.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows at me, clearly not believing me.
“We see this kind of thing all the time,” he said. “If he hits you once, he’ll do it again. Before you know it will become a habit. Soon he’ll make you believe you deserve it.”
I didn’t reply as his words sunk in.
Would Dad hit me again?
I never would’ve thought it would happen the first time and now it has.
I nodded back at the doctor.
“Thank you,” I said. “I won’t let it happen again. But it wasn’t Gabriel. He saved me.”
“Just remember what I said. It never gets better, only worse. Trust me on this.”
He handed me a cup with two white pills in it.
“I've prescribed some antibiotics to ward off infection. That's your first round. You can take Tylenol for the pain. I’ll have the nurse tell your friend you’re free to go now. Follow the exit signs to get to discharge. Five days on the antibiotics, twice a day. You'll have to see your family physician in a week to get the stitches out.”
He ducked behind the curtain and moments later Gabriel was back beside me with a pack of crackers and a soft drink from the machines.
“I’m ready to blow this joint,” I said, trying to tease. “If you can help me get dressed.”
He gently untied the gown and pulled it from me, then helped me into the jacket from the car when we realized my bandaged hand couldn’t go back into my shirt. The jacket was too big for me and he folded up the sleeves.
Gabriel helped me slide off the bed and I let him lead me down the hall. His fingers found mine, slipping between them. At discharge I signed all the paperwork. Gabriel paid the bill using his credit card. I hated to think what it must’ve cost him.
He helped me into the car then climbed in on his side.
Before he could start the car, my eyes were already closing.
“I'm so tired and need to close my eyes for a minute. Can you get back to the bar without my directions?”
“I'm not taking you back there,” he said.
“I have to go back. The window is smashed in and there's a mess to clean up. I left my phone. I have to go back.”
He shook his head.
“I'm not taking you back there tonight.”
“Gabriel, I'm fine. You're making this out to be more than it needs to be,” I said.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
He picked up my hand, locking his eyes on mine.
“Don’t go back there tonight. Tomorrow you can try talking me into it. But right now, tonight, I’m taking you back to my room and putting you to bed. We’ll figure all this out in the morning.”
I nodded and squeezed his fingers.
“Close your eyes and rest. I'll wake you up when we get there. I’m going to pick up some real food on the way for you too. I only bought the crackers so the doctor wouldn’t fuss at me.”
Chapter Eighteen: Gabriel
She didn't want the fast food I offered her at first. Immediately after taking a bite, and my insistence that she had to eat something, she was thankful for the burger.
“Good?”
She nodded, taking another bite.
I rubbed her knee and watched as she ate. I was glad that she did, because I had a feeling this was the first time today.
She cringed every time she moved her hand, or her shoulder, or any part of her body for that matter, and I knew she was in pain. The doctor had given her medication to take, but she could only take them once she had eaten.
Doctor’s orders.
We ate in silence, and even though I didn't have much of an appetite, I hoped that it would encourage her to finish her food. When she was done, I took the empty containers from her and she curled up into a ball, using my jacket as a blanket.
I drove to the hotel, which was much nicer than the other one. As I parked inside the parking garage, I saw her stir beside me.
“Hey,” I said in a soft tone. “Where did you doze off to?”
“I just closed my eyes for a minute,” she mumbled and glanced out the window. “Where are we?”
“My hotel.”
“This isn't the hotel I remember.”
“It’s a new one, a better one.”
“Sick of those hard beds at the Cheapskate Hotel?”
I smiled. Even in pain, she was still her spunky old self.
“I thought you wanted to sleep more comfortably.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You’re staying with me for a few days.”
To my surprise, she nodded, not saying a word. No contention, no defiance. Nothing.
I switched off the car then walked around and opened her door for her.
“I can get out of the car myself, you know.”
“I know,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “But it’ll be easier if I help.”
For once, she allowed me to help her without any attitude.
Pain did things to a person. Physical pain especially. I put my arm around her and under her shoulder, holding her up and we slowly made our way inside.
“Aren’t we a fine pair,” she whispered.
I chuckled.
We were indeed.
“If anyone sees us, they’ll think we’ve had quite a night partying,” I joked.
The hotel was plush and quiet. We took the elevator, avoiding the lobby, which might not have been the best idea since the inside of the elevator walls were lined with mirrors.
Lynette caught sight of her face and she gasped, lightly touching the bruises on her skin.
“Oh shit. It looks like I’ve been mauled by a pit bull.”
“That’s a very specific description. They’re actually quite lovable with the right owners.”
I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.
“Don’t worry. It’ll heal. It always does.”
The elevator stopped and I stepped out, keeping the door open for her with my cane.
“This is a much nicer hotel,” she remarked.
“I hoped you’d think so. The reviews said the Wi-Fi was great and the pillows were soft,” I said as we stopped in front of my door.
I slid the key card through the slot, pushing the door open to let us in.
“Ah…much better,” she said when we stepped inside.
“I’m glad you like it. I stopped by here to check in as soon as I arrived. Now I wish I’d driven straight to the bar. I could’ve prevented what happened tonight if I’d been there.”
She shook her head.
“Nothing could’ve stopped him. Sooner or later it was bound to happen. I’m just glad you came when you did.”
I can’t bear to think what might’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up in time.
She walked into the room and looked around.
“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you into bed.”
“Okay,” she said without arguing for once.
I led her towards the king size bed and helped her sit down on the edge. I handed her one of my t-shirts before helping her out of the jacket. I took off her bra, then her shorts. For a brief moment she sat on the bed only in her panties before I gently pulled the t-shirt over her head and body.
“Thank you,” she whispered, sounding like a small child and I smiled at her.
I stood up, and as I pulled the covers down, she looked at me.
“I ruined your shirt. There’s blood all over it.”
“I can buy a new one. Here, get under the covers,” I said.
I pulled my shirt off and walked to the bathroom. I took a quick shower and when I came out again, she had the covers pulled over her, looking at me.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“If it wasn't for the pain in my head, face, shoulder, back, hand, or legs, then yes.”
I smiled briefly and handed her a bottle of water, then shook two tablets out of one of my pill bottles.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Something stronger than aspirin. They’re mine. It will help with the pain and put you to sleep for tonight.”
“I don't need pain pills. I just need some Tylenol,” she said, trying to hand it back to me.
“Please, just take it. Tylenol isn’t going to do one thing for all the pain you’re in.”
