by J. Dorothy
I don’t want to alert him to the blood. I plonk down on the only other chair in the room and casually fiddle with my hair, trying to make it look like I’m tidying it, rather than stopping blood trickle down my neck. I’m grateful my hair is brown so the blood doesn’t show. The pain is getting worse, and I hope Cam high tails it out of here real soon, so I can take an aspirin and stop the bleeding. I bought a medical kit, my first day on the job, and know its waiting for me in the top drawer of the filing cabinet.
Cam hasn’t moved, but I glance up and see him still frowning, his arms crossed. I decide I need to make him leave.
“Uh … did you want something? I was just about to finish up for the night.” I continue fiddling with my hair, trying not to wince when I touch the tender spot. Boy there is going to be one solid lump there tomorrow. Great, just what I need a lumpy head to go with a pounding headache. Terrific.
Cam opens his mouth to speak, when I hear a muffled shout over by my desk. Shit, I forgot about Bennett. He must be wondering what the hell is going on. I don’t make a move to retrieve my cell, my legs feel a bit shaky and I don’t want to collapse again. Cam glances over in the same direction as me.
“You want me to get that for you?” he asks.
I bite my lip. “Um, yeah, if that’s okay. I was talking to someone when you walked in, and…”
Cam doesn’t wait for me to finish, he goes over to the desk and bends to pick up my cell. I see him look at the screen for a minute, his mouth tightens and his eyes narrow. Bennett is yelling now, and Cam puts it to his ear.
Crap.
“You can calm down, your girlfriend's fine. I’ll put her on.”
Girlfriend?
Cam doesn’t let Bennett respond, he tosses the cell at me and I take my hand from my head to catch it without thinking, my hand is now covered in blood, I swallow the bile rising up my throat, I really can’t stomach it.
“Bales, who was that? And what the hell happened?” I hear Bennett ask.
I can’t answer him. I know I’m going to be sick. I try to close my eyes and calm my breath, but it isn’t working. The bathroom is only two doors down and I don’t wait to see what Cam’s doing, or not doing. I toss the cell and race out the door, my heart is pounding, and I’m sweating, my legs are shaking but I make it to the bathroom and shove my way inside, just reaching the cubicle in time to lose my lunch. Oh god, I feel awful. After throwing up a few more times, I wipe my mouth with my hand and put my head back against the cold stone wall. The coolness feels good for a moment, then I remember my head is bleeding, and the cold relief is replaced by a pounding ache.
I am such a mess, and I really want to cry. I wish my dad was here. A tear escapes down my cheek. I’m so sick of crying, but I can’t seem to stop it. I know I have to get up and sort myself out, but my legs feel like jelly and I’m shaking all over.
Then I hear Cam call out. “Bailey, are you okay, you need any help in there?”
Once again, with the Bailey. I want to yell back that I’m fine, but I’m really not. I’ll need his help.
“Um … could you bring me the medical kit, it’s in the top drawer of the filing cabinet?”
He doesn’t answer but I hear the door to the bathroom slam close. He appears back again in seconds, standing in the doorway of the cubicle, with the little metal box clutched in his hands.
“Shit,” is all he says. He’s looking at the blood on my hand and the blood that I know is trickling down my neck. He bends and cups my neck, a chill slinks down my spine, despite my predicament. He inches my head forward a fraction and examines the back of my head. My breath hitches, I want his gentle fingers to stay there forever. I’ve missed his touch so much.
“Shit,” he says again. “You’re going to need stitches, Bai.”
Crap, not doctors again. “No. I’m sure I’ll be fine, it’s just a scratch.”
“You’re such a baby. I’m taking you to the hospital, whether you like it or not.”
“I am not a baby.”
“Just do what I say for once, will you.”
Whoa, there’s a lot more meaning to those simple exasperated words and I decide not to argue. Cam takes his fingers from my neck and I miss them already. He opens the first aid box and pulls out a wad of thick bandages and hands them to me.
“Here hold these to the back of your head. I’ll get some water and see if I can clean you up a bit.”
I do as he says, and listen as I hear him go over to the basin and turn on the faucet. He returns with some wet towels and goes about cleaning the blood from my hands and my neck. It feels so nice to have him close. I want to relish the moment, despite the circumstances. I might never get another opportunity to enjoy him like this.
“There, that should make you feel less faint. Now, do you think you can get up?”
I don’t want to. I want to stay here with him. But I give a small nod and bend my leg to try and pry myself off the floor. I only realize then, how foul this is, to be sitting on the floor of a public restroom. Gross. Almost makes me want to throw up all over again. I rise quicker than I should, and the little white cubicle starts to spin. Cam grabs onto my waist and steadies me. I lean on his shoulder and take a deep breath. God, he smells so good. He’s wearing some kind of new cologne that I don’t recognize, but there's also his familiar pine soapy smell. I want to snuggle into his chest and breathe him in, but I force myself to keep a bit of distance.
He moves to the side and I put my arm around his waist, while he puts his arm around my shoulder.
“You okay?” he whispers. And I wonder for a small second if he’s as affected by our close proximity as I am.
“Um, yeah, getting there,” I manage to say, my heart racing.
“Good, we’ll have you to the hospital in no time, and they can look after you.”
They can look after me? Yeah, I guess they can. Because you obviously don’t want to.
All my thoughts about Cam being affected the same as me, leave the building at the same time we leave the bathroom. We get to Cam’s truck and he opens the door for me. I’m still holding the pad to my head and I give him a forced smile. I don’t wait for him to help me. I use all my strength to hoist my aching body into the truck. It’s amazing what a bit of anger can do. Irrational as it may be. I’m peeved right now. I just want to get to the hospital so he can leave me the hell alone.
I spend most of the trip looking out the window. It’s dark, with only a few scattered street lamps to light the deserted streets. I want to curl up and go to sleep and block this night, and a certain someone, out. And I’m hoping the hospital will give me some meds, so I can do just that.
Cam hasn’t spoken to me, but I spy him glance my way a few times. Probably wondering how long he has to stay with me, before he can get into the loving arms of his sweet cheeks. Blah! I clench my hands tighter around the wad of bandages and grit my teeth, thinking of him going to her and her stupid cookies. My eyes start to water and I suck on my lower lip to try and stop the tears. I turn my head to the side and wipe at them as discreetly as I can, I do not, under any circumstances want Cam to know I’m on the verge of tears again.
I send up a prayer of blessing to the god of mercy when the doctor's surgery lights come into view. I’m glad Cam didn’t decide to take me all the way to Forest Hospital in the next town. I can’t stand being in this car with him one minute longer. He pulls up out front, and I yank on the handle ready to get out and admit myself.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Cam asks, surprise in his voice.
“Um … I’m going in there.” I point to the double glass doors.
“Wait, I’ll help you.”
I close my eyes for a small second, I need to be calm about this and not be emotional.
I open them again and turn to look at him. He still looks pissed at me, which makes it easy to say the next few words.
“Thanks, Cam. Really. I appreciate you giving me a lift. But I’ll be okay now, I’ll get Dad to come
and pick me up when the doctor's had a look at me. I’m sure you have better things to do.” Better people to see, is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say it. I don’t want to go there.
I watch as his hands clench the steering wheel tighter. He sighs big and deep. “If that’s what you want. Then fine.”
I don’t look at him again, just reach for the handle and open the car door. As I stand on shaky legs, I hear him mutter, “I really should know better than to try and help you.” Then I shut the car door and walk as tall and stable as I can into the waiting room, my heart ready to explode out of my chest and break into a million pieces. But I suck it up. I’ve sucked up worse than this, and I can do it. I can survive Cam’s hatred of me. I really can.
I take a few steps and reach the counter, the young nurse smiles at me, then I collapse on the floor and once again my world goes black.
I come too and blink at the white blinding light. This feels a little too familiar.
“Hey, there, you okay?” It’s the smiling nurse from behind the counter.
“Um … yeah, I think so. What happened?”
“You fainted. You’ve been out for about five minutes.”
Five minutes. Feels like five hours.
I’m sitting on a bed in a small room with white painted walls, there’s a small desk in the corner and a small cupboard with various doctor instruments sitting all clean and shiny on top.
“The doctor will be in to see you shortly. I take it you bumped your head?” The nice nurse asks me.
“Yeah, fell backwards off a chair and hit my head on a shelf, I think.” I shrug. Sounds like such a lame story.
The nurse feels my pulse and takes my blood pressure, then gives me another warm smile and leaves. I lie on my side looking up at the ceiling, wondering what happened to my night and going home to eat the pasta Dad left me. My head is throbbing and I feel my skull to discover my hair has been clipped up and a few strips of plaster have been placed across the cut. So I mustn’t have needed stitches after all. Now I feel even more pathetic.
The door opens and a young female doctor enters. She gives me a smile.
“Well, hello there. How are you feeling?”
Like shit, I want to say, but don’t. That’s the wrong answer. “Better, thanks.”
“We’ve had a look at your head, and we’ve put some plaster strips on the wound. You were lucky you didn’t need stitches, but you’ve got the makings of a nice lump there, and it’ll probably bruise. Which is actually a good thing.”
I frown. Not sure how that’s good at all.
The doctor chuckles. “Lumps are good, where head injuries are concerned, trust me. Now I’ll write you a prescription for some strong pain killers, but you should only need to take them tonight and tomorrow. I think the swelling and the pain will subside after that.”
I nod, and give her a weak smile. I could do with some numbing of pain right now and some sleep. I yawn in response to my tired thoughts and the doctor gives me another smile.
“Now, the only other advice I can give is to make sure you have someone to keep an eye on you for the next few hours. We have to make sure that you don’t get a concussion. Do you have someone to take care of you?”
I do, but not here. So I lie.
“Yeah, my dad.”
“Great. Well can you give him a call, because you’ll need to be driven home. You can’t be in charge of a vehicle or heavy machinery when you’re on those drugs, and I think you’ll be wanting them sooner rather than later. We have a pharmacist on the premises who can fill your script immediately.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll give my dad a call, thanks.”
I feel a bit bad lying to the nice doctor, but figure she has better things to do than worry about me. I’m sure she has a line of patients waiting to see her. If it was Dr Richards, I wouldn’t get away with my little white lie, but I’m positive she’ll be none the wiser.
“You can stay here as long as you need. I can get the nurse to let your dad in when he arrives. Okay.”
“Yep, thanks Doctor. I am feeling better. I think it was the blood that made me faint, I’m a bit of a coward when it comes to that.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve had plenty of people faint over the years. Some really big guys too. You're definitely not alone there.”
I give her a bigger smile and she gives me a quick wave and leaves the room. I breathe out a sigh of relief. Now I just need to find a way out of here, get the meds and call … Suddenly I realize I have no one I can call. Dad’s away, Gerry’s out of town, Gerry’s sister is working and Cam, well Cam’s not really an option. Shit.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t live in a back water place. There’s no cab service here. Or bus service. We aren’t big enough to warrant it. I rub my aching temples with my finger tips. I’m getting the biggest headache. I take a deep breath, and try to sit up. The world is bit wonky for a few seconds and I see a handful of little white stars, but my vision comes back to normal after a few minutes. I rub at the back of my neck and look down at my shoes. I bought a new pair of tennis shoes after the horse pad incident. I often wear them around the office and have a nice pair of pumps that I change into when I leave to go on errands around town. I click the heels together a couple of times. I wish they were magic and could transport me home to my bed. I fantasize about that for a moment and smile at my stupidity.
I need to get out of here, and fantasizing about it isn’t getting the job done. I inch to the edge of the narrow bed and put my feet on the ground. So far so good. I suck in another breath and stand, propping my hands on the bed for support. A sharp pain runs down the back of my neck and I feel a little sick, but I’m okay and after a few settling seconds I stand without support. I’m just about to take my first step toward the door, when it opens and the smiley nurse comes in.
“Good, you seem to be doing alright. I just need you to sign the paperwork and you can go.” She looks a little older than me, and her face is vaguely familiar. I wonder for a moment if she was a few years above me at school.
Then I register what she’s saying. Go? But I thought?
“Your rides here,” she says as if reading my mind.
My ride? What ride?
I haven’t called anyone, no one knows I’m here, except Cam and he wouldn’t ... unless ... oh I bet he called my dad. Damn it. Dad needs a break from me, not more drama. He must have just set up camp only to be called back. He must have made quick time, though. Oh I hope he didn’t speed. Oh wow, this is just getting worse and worse. I feel awful. I’m such a bad daughter.
“He’s your boyfriend right?” the nurse asks with a twinkle in her eye.
Boyfriend? Oh crap. It must be Cam, she must remember us.
“Ex,” I say without further explanation.
Her smile disappears. “Oh, sorry to hear that. It’s nice when you can stay friends, though.”
I nod, trying not to scowl. “Yeah. Real nice.”
I take the pen from her and sign the papers. She hands over the doctor’s script and explains where I need to go to get the medication, then opens the door for me. As soon as I walk into the waiting room, Cam leaps up. He's still frowning, and looks even more annoyed than before. To be honest if steam could come out his head I think it would. All my irritation disappears and I don’t know what to say to him.
“I’m taking you home Bailey. No arguments,” he commands.
I swallow and nod. Too afraid to tackle him at the moment, and I do need a ride.
I show him the script and say, “I’ll just get this.”
He keeps looking at me with a flicker of suspicion. “No. You stay here and sit down. I’ll get it.”
I can't keep arguing, I'm too tired. “Okay, thanks.”
I take a seat, next to an old lady who seems to find us amusing. She’s smiling at me and glancing over to Cam. “Nice young man, that one. Wouldn’t let him get away.”
“I already did,” I whisper and swallow again. The old lady sto
ps smiling and doesn’t say any more, but I see a slight raise of her eyebrow as she opens an outdated magazine.
Yeah, I get it. I’m a dumb ass.
Cam’s back in record time, with another small white bag, however this time I know it doesn’t contain cookies. Well cookies for me, not for him. I stand up and see the white stars again, I rock a little and Cam takes hold of my arm and leads me outside, and this time I let him. I’m still a little shocked he came back for me, and I’m dying to ask him why. He helps me into his truck and I’m really grateful he’s here.
I lean my head back at an angle that eases the pain. The sting has gone, but the ache is getting worse. I really need to get some drugs into my system and sleep, I need sleep …
I open my eyes and see my house. Whoa, that was a rush. I don’t even remember falling asleep. I look across to see Cam looking at me. Holy shit, I can’t take much of that. He is so glorious and so beautiful. I wish with all my heart I hadn’t been such an idiot. I look away and Cam sighs. “We should get you inside.”
I go to say, that I’ll be fine from here. But I don’t dare. “Yeah. Thanks. I’d appreciate it,” I say instead.
I glance at Cam and I see him raise his eyes, like he’s surprised at my compliance, then he turns to get out of the truck.
Blowing out a big breath, I lift the handle, when my car door springs open and Cam is there waiting, his hand outstretched. Wow, dejavu, my mind spins back to our last date. The very last time we kissed. The very last time we held hands. The very last time we said we loved each other and how a lifetime in each other’s arms would never be long enough.
What a crock of shit, Bailey Ryan, no wonder he hates you.
My sore head and everything else, doesn’t seem enough punishment for all I put Cam through, and here he is, holding out his hand to help me. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve him. Once more I bite back the tears always at the ready these days.
