I know what they’re thinking. My knuckles are a bloody mess. My shirt isn’t much better. One look at me and I’d likely have made the same assumption.
“I’ll carry her. You lead the way,” I try, but they’re not about to let me back there. I’m a visible threat in their minds, and they’re only doing their jobs.
“Put her down. You can wait in the lobby. Once the doctor assesses her, he’ll come out and talk to you.” The nurse’s face is stern, her frown one that would probably work on the average Joe.
They think it’s my fault, and I kinda see their point, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m leaving her side. “Not happening.”
The doors behind me open as my men drag Wilson inside. He looks bad, and I’d smile if I weren’t so worried about the woman in my arms.
Turning to the nurse waiting for me to put Ingrid on the gurney, I confess. “He looks like that because he did this. I was defending her. Now get the hell out of my way and tell me what room you want her in.”
Ingrid’s fists tighten around my shirt as she whimpers and says, “He stays. I want him with me.”
The nurse isn’t happy, but nods and motions for me to follow her. She leads us to a curtained area and steps aside so I can place Ingrid on the bed.
Her grip on my shirt is desperate, unrelenting. It takes patience to ease her hold. “Hey,” I lean closer, letting her hear the vow in my voice. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sadness floods her eyes as she stares up at me. “Promise?”
“You have my word.” I sketch an X over my heart with one finger.
Only then does she release me, her hand slackening so I can step aside. I let go of her hand only long enough for the nurse to check her vitals and write a few notes on her chart.
When she’s done, she yanks the curtain wide and steps into the hall. “The doctor will be in soon. This stays open until then. Understand?”
“Yes.” I drag a chair next to Ingrid’s bed and sit silently with her while we wait.
Five minutes later, the doctor walks in. He doesn’t speak to me. Only Ingrid.
“How did this happen?”
Ingrid closes her eyes, recounting every detail.
Each word sets me off; my blood boils hotter. It takes everything in me not to storm out of this room and finish what I started with Wilson. He didn’t deserve mercy.
“We’ll need to run some tests. Until then, you need to rest.” Finally turning to me, he says, “It would be best if you could wait in the waiting room. She needs rest, and I’m not sure your being here is allowing her to relax.”
“I’m not leaving.” When she trembles at the idea of my leaving, I squeeze her hand. “I did not do this to her. I was protecting her from him. Get that through your head.”
“He stays,” Ingrid whispers as closes her eyes. “He stays.”
It’s the longest fucking two hours of my life. I’m on edge and ready to explode. Patience isn’t a virtue I possess. Especially when it comes to the woman seated next to me in pain.
Ingrid’s final diagnosis is a concussion, which is moderate, not severe. Her cheekbone has a hairline fracture, which will eventually mend. The dark purple and blossoming yellow bruises on her face will worsen and become more painful in the next couple of days. If she has any trouble with her vision or becomes dizzy, she’s to return immediately.
The doctor’s instructions are explicit: complete rest for three days, no electronics, and under no circumstances should she be left alone.
“Not a problem. She’ll be staying with me,” I inform the doctor.
The weight of his judgment hangs heavy in the air. “I can call someone else, Miss Lennox. Just say the word.” He’s obviously skeptical of our story.
Tossing her head back, Ingrid repeats it one more time. “He didn’t do this to me. The other man who was admitted at the same time as me did.”
Standing, he shrugs and walks out, still giving off the vibe that he’s heard it all before.
Shortly after, a man walks in, a badge visible on his hip. “Hello. I’m Detective Jones. I’m investigating the assault on Mr. Culberson.” Looking directly at me, he hits me in a way I didn’t see coming. “He’s claiming you jumped him, Mr. Falcon, when he and Miss Lennox were enjoying a kiss behind the building. Says you pulled him off of her, did that to her face, and then turned your anger on him when he tried to stop you. Is that what happened?”
“Not even close.” Reaching into my back pocket, the familiar feel of the soft leather in my hand. I flip my wallet open and pull out what I need and pass it to him. “First of all, in full disclosure, even if it were, you can’t touch me.”
