Chapter 11
Isped off down the road, my mind going a mile a minute. My plan was to go back to his place, clean myself up, grab my shit, and stay at the motel for thenight.
I pulled down the gravel road as my phone started blowing up with text after text fromAbel.
Abel: Babe. Go home. I will be theresoon.
Abel: Please call me. We need totalk.
Abel: I am sosorry.
Abel: Crickett, I love you. Please callme.
I threw my phone onto the passenger seat and pulled a U-turn. If Abel was on his way to the house, there was no way I was going to be there when he showedup.
I tried to not think about the blood that was drying on my arms, clothes, legs, and neck, but when I looked down to see my chest covered in that man’s blood, it running down my V-neck all the way to the top of my shorts, I started to go into a panic. I tried taking long, slow breaths, but to noavail.
My body was shaking, my breathing was out of control, and my mind was a jumbledmess.
My phone started blaring and I pulled off to the side of the road to see who itwas.
I was surprised at how disappointed I was to not see Abel’s or Rave’s number coming up. I let the unknown number go to voicemail and leave amessage.
I slid my phone open and the message started playing. “Hi, Crickett. This is Cindy, your mom’s neighbor. She asked me not to call anyone but I think you really need to get to the hospital quickly. She was mugged. I’m not too sure what really happened, but I found her this morning in really rough shape. The doctors won’t give me any information since I am not family and I have to go to work now, but call me if you get an update. She’s at Jackson on Fifth. I don’t know if they put her in a room ornot.”
I went into autopilot. In just over twelve hours I could be at my mother’s bedside. My tank was full, my adrenaline was pumping, and the radio was blasting. I drove for just over three hours before I stopped at a quiet rest stop. Grabbing the hoodie from the back seat and throwing it over my bloodstained body, I rushed into the bathroom without anyone noticing the dark red that was splattered down myleg.
I locked myself in the handicapped stall and scrubbed my skin raw, threw out my white V-neck and soaked bra, and threw back on my hoodie. My black shorts didn’t show the stains too badly, thankfully. It took everything in my power not to picture the wide eyes of the dead man lying at my feet. Even though he’d had no problems with threatening my life, it didn’t change the fact that I felt bad that his had been ended. He was someone’s son, probably someone’s lover or even afather.
After filling up and grabbing a Red Bull, I was back on my mission. After ignoring over twenty calls from Rave and Abel, stopping a few more times for gas, and chugging a handful of energy drinks, I was finally pulling into the parking lot at thehospital.
The security guard was sitting behind the desk. She made a copy of my license, gave me my visitor’s pass, and explained the maze I was going to have to go through to get to my mother’sroom.
Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. I couldn’t believe I was back in my hometown, about to see my mother battered and bruised from another mugging. The guilt of running out on her was overwhelming as I gasped for breath and pushed open the hospital roomdoor.
Right as I was about to take my first step into the room a nurse stopped me. “Ma’am, only family can go in there, and it’s not visiting hours for thisfloor.”
I cleared my throat, turning to the older lady who was standing there with a vial of medication and syringe in hand. “She’s my mother,” Imuttered.
With a kind smile, she nodded. “Have you spoken to the doctoryet?”
I shook my head. “I was out of town. I got the news from a neighbor and drove more than twelve hours straight through to gethere.”
“Let me give your mother her pain meds and then I will page the doctor for you. I am sure he is going to want to talk with you about hercondition.”
I followed the nurse in to see my mother lying helpless in the bed. Her face was so swollen and bruised that I barely recognized her. She was hooked up to monitors and IVs, and her right leg was in a cast from the kneedown.
I gasped for air as I rushed to her bedside. “What the hell happened?” I pleaded, but my words fell on deaf ears. The nurse had already left and my mom was passedout.
It only took a few minutes for the doctor to come into the room, but it had felt likeyears.
“Miss Hayes, may we speak in thehall?”
I followed the doctor out of the room. “Doctor, do you know what happened toher?”
He looked over her chart with a furrowed brow. “Your mother’s neighbor found her like this. Your mother said she was raped and mugged but could not give the name of her attacker. She has a few broken ribs and they almost broke her jaw. Her right leg looked to have been stomped on with a steel toe boot; her tibia and fibula are shattered. She’s lucky to bealive.”
I felt weak. My knees were about to give out. I leaned back on the wall. “I just can’t believe this. Is she going to be allright?”
