Skidding to a stop at the intake desk, he leaned over it and got in the ward clerk’s face. “Jennie Nielson. Where is she?”
“Calm down, Whitman.” Brandon stood beside him, hands on the counter.
“Where is she?” His face heated and pulse skyrocketed.
“Detective. Take a breath.” The clerk glared at him.
He squinted and caught a glimpse of the woman’s nametag. “Look, Sheila. I need you to answer my question. Where is Jennie Nielson?”
The slide of a curtain and a deep voice captured David’s attention.
“Whitman, would you relax. Ms. Nielson is going to be fine.” Dr. Bennett’s words almost took David to his knees.
“She’s alive? She’s okay?”
“Yes, but okay is a relative term. She’s going to be sore and hoarse for a while. And I’m sorry to say she pulled her stitches out, so we had to fix that, but all in all, she’s fine.”
David swallowed past the lump in his throat and took a few steps toward the doctor. “May I see her?”
“Of course. But David…”
He stopped and stared at Bennett.
“Get it together before you go in there. She doesn’t need you wigging out.” The man clutched his bicep. “The bruises on her throat are not a pretty sight. So, hold it together. Don’t react. She’s a strong lady, but she needs your strength right now.”
David nodded and slid the curtain aside.
Jennie lay on the bed. Her face pale against the purple and red marks on her neck. If the doctor hadn’t told him otherwise, he’d have thought she was dead.
He entwined his fingers with hers. “Jennie? Honey, can you wake up for me?”
Her eyelids fluttered open. “David,” she croaked.
“Don’t talk. I just needed to see those pretty blue eyes.” He brushed the hair from her forehead.
She smiled, then grimaced.
“What can I do for you?”
The look of pain tore a hole in his heart. He should have been here and kept her safe.
“You can stop blaming yourself,” she whispered.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest. He’d only known her a short time and she had him pegged.
She reached for her water cup.
“Here, let me.” He held the cup and straw for her while she took a sip.
Her eyes filled with tears.
He set the water back on the roller table and wiped her tears away with his thumb. “I know it hurts, and I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
“I don’t want to make you talk, but are you up to telling me what happened?” He had to get her statement.
She laid her fingers across her neck and nodded. “As long as I can whisper.”
