Chapter Seventeen: Lynette
I nodded in agreement, pulling the jacket closer around me. He tugged on my arm and I started walking with him. The light of the emergency room entrance sign was a beacon in the darkness.
We walked inside hand in hand. The ER was almost empty and cold. We sat in the waiting room for what seemed like forever with me pressing an icepack to my bruised face. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and let me lean into him. His fingers stroked my hair.
They called me back after a while. My hand stung like a bitch and my face ached. The nurse looked at my condition and then turned quickly to Gabriel.
“I'm sorry sir, but you can't come back with her.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“I want him with me,” I pleaded, my voice small.
“I'm sorry ma'am, but its family only. Are you her husband?” The nurse said solemnly with another curt look toward Gabriel.
Gabriel shook his head.
I grabbed his shirt sleeve and held on for dear life.
“Either you let him come with me or I’m leaving.”
Gabriel leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“Go on in,” he whispered. “I'll be right here. I won’t leave, I promise.”
I shook my head.
“No. You made me come here. You’re coming back with me. That’s final.”
The nurse rolled her eyes, sighed and motioned us back. I clung to Gabriel letting him shoulder my weight. The nurse pointed me to the bed.
“Put this on,” she said, handing me a gown.
Then the nurse left, closing the curtain behind her.
“I can't get my shirt off,” I said after struggling with it for a minute.
Gabriel stepped over quickly and helped me pull it off, moving it gently over my towel-wrapped hand. The white cloth was dark with blood. Once free of the t-shirt, he helped me pull the gown on.
He sucked in his breath when he moved to tie it. His fingers brushed the bruises beginning to form on my neck. Climbing behind me on the hospital bed, he wrapped both of his muscular arms around me and pulled me into his warmth.
“You shouldn't...” I whispered.
“Don't start worrying about that now. You need me.”
I smiled a sad smile and curled into his body, cradling my injured hand. He stroked my face, my hair. My hand was throbbing. He kissed my forehead to comfort me. Our silence was broken by the doctor rushing into the room.
“Let's see that hand, young lady,” he said in a soft voice.
The doctor was a short round man with a kind face. I immediately felt comforted by his calm, assured manner.
I held out my hand without breaking away from Gabriel's embrace. The doctor unwrapped the towel from my hand, revealing the wound.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
“I fell on some glass,” I replied.
“You fell, huh? Funny how those things happen. What about your eye?”
The doctor flicked his eyes over to Gabriel.
“I hit the side of the bar when I fell. I own the Speakeasy bar over on 9th street.”
“I'll get a nurse to stitch you up then. Sir, would you mind stepping out while I examine her?”
“No,” I said, gripping onto Gabriel’s arm.
“It’s hospital policy,” the doctor said firmly. “I can’t let you leave without an examination. I’ll be back in a minute.”
. The nurse came in moments later and cleaned my hand. The woman didn't speak, only looked at Gabriel with angry, accusing eyes. She stitched my hand quickly.
Gabriel kissed the top of my head and whispered, “My god, Lynette. They think I did this to you.”
I nodded and clutched my uninjured hand in his shirt.
“I would never do this to you.” His voice was choked. “And it's killing me that you would rather everyone believed that I hurt you than for you to just tell the truth about what happened.”
“Not right now. Please. You don’t understand.”
I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears. They spilled out anyway from under my lids.
He brushed them away with his thumb. I lifted my face to look at him, the tears flowing down my face now. He kissed me, gently.
I moved my injured hand to touch his face, wincing when I tried to stretch my fingers. He grabbed my wrist and kissed my knuckles gently.
The doctor returned and after checking the stitches turned to Gabriel, “Step outside the curtain please while I examine her. In fact, there is a snack machine right down the hallway. Getting a little food in her might help.”
Gabriel didn’t argue. Instead he slid off the hospital bed and left the room without a word.
When he was out of hearing range, the doctor pulled down the collar of my hospital gown slightly to check the red splotches on my throat.
“Has he done this to you before?” he asked quietly.
“It wasn’t him,” I replied. “I know it must look that way. It was a drunken customer at the bar. The guy drank too much and didn’t understand why I wouldn’t go home with him. Trust me, he won’t be back. He was only driving through town so I don’t even know his name. If he ever shows up again, I’ll call the police.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows at me, clearly not believing me.
“We see this kind of thing all the time,” he said. “If he hits you once, he’ll do it again. Before you know it will become a habit. Soon he’ll make you believe you deserve it.”
I didn’t reply as his words sunk in.
Would Dad hit me again?
I never would’ve thought it would happen the first time and now it has.
I nodded back at the doctor.
“Thank you,” I said. “I won’t let it happen again. But it wasn’t Gabriel. He saved me.”
“Just remember what I said. It never gets better, only worse. Trust me on this.”
He handed me a cup with two white pills in it.
“I've prescribed some antibiotics to ward off infection. That's your first round. You can take Tylenol for the pain. I’ll have the nurse tell your friend you’re free to go now. Follow the exit signs to get to discharge. Five days on the antibiotics, twice a day. You'll have to see your family physician in a week to get the stitches out.”
He ducked behind the curtain and moments later Gabriel was back beside me with a pack of crackers and a soft drink from the machines.
“I’m ready to blow this joint,” I said, trying to tease. “If you can help me get dressed.”
He gently untied the gown and pulled it from me, then helped me into the jacket from the car when we realized my bandaged hand couldn’t go back into my shirt. The jacket was too big for me and he folded up the sleeves.
Gabriel helped me slide off the bed and I let him lead me down the hall. His fingers found mine, slipping between them. At discharge I signed all the paperwork. Gabriel paid the bill using his credit card. I hated to think what it must’ve cost him.
He helped me into the car then climbed in on his side.
Before he could start the car, my eyes were already closing.
“I'm so tired and need to close my eyes for a minute. Can you get back to the bar without my directions?”
“I'm not taking you back there,” he said.
“I have to go back. The window is smashed in and there's a mess to clean up. I left my phone. I have to go back.”
He shook his head.
“I'm not taking you back there tonight.”
“Gabriel, I'm fine. You're making this out to be more than it needs to be,” I said.
I swallowed, my throat dry.
He picked up my hand, locking his eyes on mine.
“Don’t go back there tonight. Tomorrow you can try talking me into it. But right now, tonight, I’m taking you back to my room and putting you to bed. We’ll figure all this out in the morning.”
I nodded and squeezed his fingers.
“Close your eyes and rest. I'll wake you up when we get there. I’m going to pick up some real food on the way for you too. I only bought the crackers so the doctor wouldn’t fuss at me.”