Rafi approaches with the prepped gurney and lowers it next to Abby. “Okay, let's get her on and loaded into the bus.”
Clara and Rafi make quick work of their care. They place a brace around her neck and wrap her head. It takes everything in me not to step in and help, but I know I need to let them work. Once she’s in the ambulance, I head toward the back to hop in with her.
“Sir, I’m going to need a statement from you,” Officer Arnold says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I need to go with her,” I say, almost shouting.
“I understand, but the more information I get right now, the sooner we can catch whoever did this.” He stays calm, resting his hands on his vest.
“I’m not leaving her!” I yell, looking back at the ambulance. Clara stands at the back door with a sympathetic expression.
“Okay, sir. Can you give me a name and description of the suspect?” he asks.
“Samuel Johnson. Blue jeans, black shirt, skinny blonde. Can I go now?” I ask frantically.
“Of course. Thank you. I’ll meet you at the hospital so we can discuss this further.”
I run to the ambulance and hop in, sitting next to Abby. She’s looking around, seeming confused about where she is.
“Abby? Hey, I’m here.” I grab her hand and she squeezes mine, hard. She smiles as a tear falls to her ear. She seems to have regained a bit of lucidity.
“Hi.” It’s strained, barely a whisper.
The ride to the hospital feels like it takes forever. Clara asks questions, allowing Abby to answer what she can, and then asks me if Abby can’t. What I realize quickly is that I don’t know Abby as well as I thought I did. Allergies. Medications. Family. I feel almost useless. But what doesn’t waver is the realization that Abby wants me here. She grips my hand the entire way to the hospital and when we arrive, she almost refuses to let go. A different officer meets us at the hospital. Doctors and nurses crowd around us as they roll her into a room. They start pushing me out of the room to work on her.
“I need to stay with her!” I yell, trying to push past the nurse who’s holding me back.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but we need you to wait out here. We will call you in as soon as she’s stable. I promise.”
I see Abby’s eyes go wide as she realizes I’m not with her anymore. “Please, she needs a familiar face. She’s just been beaten half to death. Don’t do this to her,” I beg. I suddenly realize I’m almost crying.
“I need you to wait out here. We will go as quickly as we can,” he says, before shutting the door and locking me out.
I sink into the nearest chair, where all the emotions I’ve been forcing back finally flood over me and I cry. The sadness, anxiety, and anger officially take over. I hold my face in the palms of my hands and run them through my hair down the back of my neck. I force my breathing to regulate, trying to compose myself. My jaw is sore from clenching so tightly. I lower my shoulders and take a deep breath. All of this seems silly as I wait to hear the status of the woman I’ve come to love. God, do I really love this girl? After only three weeks?
My emotions get the best of me. For the first time in a while, I allow myself to feel all of them. Even if all at once. The feeling is visceral. It’s rooted deep within me. My desire and need to take care of this woman is my only goal in life. She deserves the world, but she’s been given nothing but torture for years. She can’t keep living like that. She deserves to be happy. She deserves to feel wanted and loved. It takes a strong person to survive the misery she’s been living.
And who the fuck does Sam think he is getting to dictate how she lives her life? She owes him nothing. She doesn’t owe anyone anything. He’s got a complex. One that I’d love to knock out of him. That dick deserves a beating again, worse than that of Abby’s. I’d willingly do it in a heartbeat.
“Dallas?” a voice says from down the hall. When I look, I see Officer Arnold looking around the room. I stand. He moves to shake my hand and then sits in the chair next to me. “Hi. I apologize for how we left things. You have to understand I have a job to do. I want to take care of Ms. Cooper just as you do.”
“Of course. I’m sorry for freaking out. I was being pulled in two directions and I didn’t know what to do.” I shake my head.
“I understand. I’ve been told they are still caring for her. I’ve started the paperwork for this case, but until I can talk to Abby, I won't be able to do much without more information. Do you know if she wants to press charges?” he asks.
“God, I hope so. That fucker deserves to be behind bars. You guys can press charges without her permission, though, right?”
“We can, and we will. But I need to see the extent of the damage to her. It’ll help us solidify the case.”
I sigh, relief washing over me. What is taking so long? I look at the room they have Abby in and see the door and curtains still pulled shut. The wave of relief is quickly replaced by worry again. My brows scrunch together as I picture the bruising strewn across her body, bruising I wish I could take for myself, or, even better, give to Sam.
The squeal of a door echoes through the bustling halls of the ER. I stand quickly when a nurse leaves Abby’s room.
“Is she okay? Can I see her?”
He smiles at the officer before addressing me. “She’s stable and conscious, but very tired and sore. We gave her an IV of pain meds and antibiotics to help with the pain and open wounds. She has a mild skull fracture. She also sustained a few broken ribs but nothing further. Her lungs are okay. Additionally, she has some bruising from the strangulation, but again, nothing serious.”
“Motherfucker,” I spit. Rage runs through me as I take in the news. It hits differently, hearing the words out loud from a stranger even though I saw the marks. My chest feels tight, and my cheeks are hot. “This should never have happened. I should have been there,” I say, shaking my head. I rake my hands through my hair and pace the floor. “Can I see her?” I look up at the nurse as he starts to leave.
