"What just happened?" I look at Shirley.
"That is him trying to show you that he’s not a horse’s ass,” Shirley says, and I look out the window and watch him look up at the ceiling with his hands on his hips. “You should have seen him three days ago."
Chapter 9
Quinn
I walk out of the room with my heart in my throat. My hands shake, and the anger and rage roar through me. If I would have stayed in the room, I don’t know what I would have done or said. Neither of which would have boded well for anyone. I run my hands through my hair and then hold them behind my head.
Walking down the hall before and seeing her shaking like a leaf while she threw up was as if someone was pushing me to the edge of a cliff.
I tried to reel it in as I rubbed her back. I couldn’t tell her that she was going to be okay; I didn’t trust any words to come out of my mouth, so I kept silent beside her as Shirley made sure she was okay. It was going as well as it could have gone, but then I saw that her whole fucking leg was bruised. Not just one spot, either. Her whole fucking upper leg was bruised a dark purple. It screamed at me that this wasn’t just one punch that created that. I closed my eyes, trying not to see it, but it was the only thing I saw in my mind.
I had to walk out of the room because I thought I was going to be sick in the middle of the hallway. Knowing someone put their hands on her, I felt this rage soar through me, and I had no idea what the fuck was going on inside me. All I wanted to do was push the hair back from her face, just stare into her eyes, and hold her face in my palms. I wanted to take her in my arms and promise her that she would never be hurt again. I wanted to tell her that I would die before I let someone else put their hands on her. Then hearing that she had a broken clavicle and just fought through the pain? Well, that was the push I needed to go over the edge.
I put my hands on the nurses’ desk and look up at the ceiling, trying to calm myself. I make the mistake of looking over my shoulder at her as she looks down at her lap, probably unsure as to what the fuck happened.
"Well, that was smooth," Shirley says. Coming out, she shakes her head and gives me the biggest glare ever. "Idiot." I can’t even say anything to that because she is right. I have no idea what’s come over me, but I’m in uncharted territory, so I have no idea how to act. "I’m going to get her a sling for her arm." She turns and walks down the hall while the doctor comes out with his pecan pie in his hand.
"She’ll be fine,” he says. “It’s a common injury."
"Really? How many adults do you know that come in with a broken clavicle?" I ask, my eyes staring straight at him.
"A lot more than you think,” he says, and I tilt my head to the side, not believing him for even a second. "It could happen riding a bike or playing sports." He tries to sugarcoat things. "Car accidents."
"Or from being almost beaten to death," I add, and he doesn’t correct me. "How long will it take to heal?"
"Usually, it takes six to eight weeks to heal in adults. With her arm in a sling, she won’t be in much pain,” he says. “I’ll check in with her later." He turns to walk away, and I start to take a step into the room when I see Shirley coming back.
"How about you calm down a touch and then come in?" she says. “This might hurt, and she might not show it in front of you."
I nod at her as she walks in, and I hear her talking, the phone in my back pocket buzzing. Looking at it, I see it’s my uncle Jacob. “Hello,” I say, my eyes never leaving from looking into the window at Shirley explaining to Willow what she is going to be doing.
"Quinn,” he says. “I’m with the guys. You are on speakerphone."
"Okay,” I say, confused. I step down the hall, looking into the room where Chelsea was and see it’s empty. The hospital bed sits ready for the next patient. I turn back as I slowly walk back to Willow’s room.
"I hate to do this to you," he says, and I’m already annoyed. I don’t even ask him what guys he has there. Is he with my father, or is he with his men at the station? Either way, I couldn't care less.
"I’m going to be honest," I start to say. “It’s not a good time,” I say instead of saying what I want to say, which is I don’t want to hear it.
"Well, sorry, but we are running out of time at this point,” he says, and I stand straight. "We need to come in and interview her.”
"No," I say right away. “Fuck no." My voice goes low as I hiss it out.
"We’ve given her more time than anyone else,” he says, and I close my eyes. "We haven’t even placed an officer outside of her room."
I ignore that last point. “She literally woke up yesterday,” I say. “Less than twenty-four hours ago. She was in a coma for four days. When would you have asked her questions exactly?"
"And we should have had someone there get a statement." His voice comes in. “But we gave her some time because of you." His voice trails off, and I know that he’s bent many rules because of me being by Willow’s side.
"Well, you aren’t coming today,” I say, my voice a touch louder. “She just got results back, and her clavicle is broken." My voice trails off with that statement.
"What?" he whispers.
"Yeah," I say. “She was fighting through the pain and not saying anything, but I guess the nurse saw it, and she just got the results."
"Okay, fine," he huffs. “We’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. That is the longest I can stretch it. There are lots of loose ends to this investigation, and we hope she can help us."
"Yeah," I say, looking into the room at her, knowing that she holds many answers. "Okay, I’ll text you tomorrow morning to set up a time.” I finally give in.
“Hang in there,” Jacob says. “It’s almost over.”
I disconnect the call. “Or it’s just beginning,” I mumble to myself. Putting the phone back in my back pocket, I rub my face with my hands as I watch Shirley talk to Willow.
I watch as Shirley explains something to her. Willow looks at Shirley and smiles softly at her, and she is breathtakingly beautiful. Shirley bends Willow’s arm, putting it in the bottom part of the sling. Willow winces just a bit when she sits up in the bed so Shirley can slip it around the bottom of her chest. Willow slowly puts her back against the bed and listens to whatever Shirley tells her. She leans her head back against the pillow. Her eyes close just for a second, and then she fights to open them again.
You can see that she is fighting the sleep that will take her soon. I just stand here and watch. Shirley takes the containers off the bed, putting them back into the brown bag, but keeping out the blueberry one. She stays in the room, not leaving her side until she falls asleep.
She walks out of the room, coming to my side in front of the window that looks in. “I guess it was too much excitement for her,” she says, looking at her watch. “It’s the longest she’s been up.” I nod, looking at her chest rising and falling. “She’s out for a couple of hours. I just gave her another dose of pain medication.”