Chapter 5

 

I expected the waiting room at the ER to be packed, but we were the only ones in there. I thought that might have been a good omen and we would see a doctor quickly, but no such luck.

We sat alone, in a small room with a bed, a bunch of machines and one really uncomfortable chair for what seemed like forever.

Betsy didn't say a word to me, she just kept her hand on mine, squeezing it every so often.

By the time we were through episode number two of Law and Order, a woman came through the curtain. I thought it would be a nurse, or a doctor, coming to stitch her up, but instead it was an older lady in plain clothes and large glasses. She had a hospital badge on with the words 'case worker' printed below her Polish name that I couldn't even begin to pronounce.

She smiled at me, but it was forced. "Excuse me, sir, but do you mind if I talk to Betsy alone for a few minutes?"

I stared at the woman long and hard before I looked back at Betsy. She only nodded at me and squeezed my hand.

I cleared my throat and stood up. "Yeah. I'll go in the hall and text John."

"Thank you." The woman nodded. "It'll only be a few minutes, and then the doctor will be in to stitch her up."

I stepped outside of the room, but stayed within earshot. The lady didn't seem to be paying too close attention, so she couldn't have been that worried about me.

"Now, Betsy, if there is any reason that you don't feel safe right now, please let me know. I'm here to help," the woman said in a pseudo-soothing voice.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't the one the woman should have been worried about.

I didn't think Betsy would actually dignify her with an answer. Hell, the girl hadn't spoke to me all night, so I was definitely surprised when I heard her speak.

"No. Shor—I mean—Leonel would never hurt me. I feel completely safe with him."

I gulped when I heard her say my real name. I didn't even think she knew it. Nobody but my mother and abuela ever called me by that. People back home just referred to me as "Leo" and never the full name. And the house, I don't even think half the guys knew I had a name other than Short Stack. Well, except when Cali gave me shit at Chapter and yells "Garcia-Shapiro." Stupid hyphened names. But when Betsy said my name, I suddenly didn't want to be called anything else.

"Okay, Betsy. Can you tell me how this happened then? Leonel filled out the paperwork, but it just says that you fell. Is there more to the story?" The woman's voice was almost accusatory.

"No. That's what happened. I fell off a friend's loft and hit my lip on the metal bar. I was drinking and laughing and should have watched for the edge. It was my own fault."

I didn't even notice my hands were clenched into fists, until I felt a surge of pain rush up my arm and I had to let go. I knew that wasn't the whole story. I knew that fucker, Rico, probably pushed her for some stupid reason and obviously the lady did too because she kept asking her questions even when the doctor went in and stitched her up. I was out in the hallway for another hour before the woman finally opened the curtain.

She smiled at me, but it was forced, like the kind people give you when they really want to punch you in the face. "You can go in now. She's resting."

"Thanks." I nodded and breezed past the woman.

I swallowed hard and tried not to look like I was staring at Betsy's face. The towel and blood had been covering most of it, but now seeing it swollen and bruised with the stitches going from her upper lip to her nose, had me seeing red. Along with that she had a long, red gash on her jaw line that was fitted with butterfly bandages.

What the hell did he do to her?

Slowly, I approached the bed and put my hands on the sidebars. "Hey, how are you holding up?"

She nodded slowly. "Okay. I guess. They gave me some stuff to numb it so sorry if I sound like The Godfather." Her lips barely moved as she talked.

"You don't have to talk. Just rest, okay? Hopefully, they'll let us out soon."

She nodded before her eyes drifted shut and left me alone with my thoughts.

 

***

 

It was another three hours before we got to leave the hospital and I was exhausted. I stayed up, waiting for someone to tell us that we could go, but a bad car wreck came in and it was like they forgot about us.

I thought about getting a coffee on the way back to the house, but I didn't know what was open at that time. With Betsy's head on my lap while she slept soundly, there was no way I wanted to move her to get out of the car.

I could have dropped her off at her apartment. I should have. But instead, I found myself pulling into the back parking lot of the house.

She stirred awake once the bright back lights came into view. Slowly she sat up and pushed her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. She didn't say anything, so I got out of the car and opened the door.

We still hadn't spoken a word to each other. As if there was something we were communicating without needing to open our mouths.

She took my hand and just nodded. I took that as my cue to close the car door and lead her into the house.

The party had ended some time ago, but the scent of stale beer and some god awful, rank body odor was still in the air. I led Betsy past all that, up the stairs and to my bedroom.

This wasn't about sex. This wasn't about the fact that I had the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen holding my hand. This was about keeping her safe. This was about knowing where she woke up.

And when she crawled in next to me, on my tiny twin bed and put her head on my chest, it just fit. We fit together.

"Goodnight, Short Stack," she whispered, her lips vibrating on my chest.

"Goodnight, Betsy."

With that, I turned off the light beside my bed and drifted off to sleep.