Scarred: A New Adult Romance (The Anderson Brothers Series Book 1) (18 page)

“Where’s
William?”

“Napping.”
I harden my gaze, hoping he won’t ask any more about William.

His
brow furrows, but thankfully, he takes the hint and steps aside. “Okay. Take it
easy, man.”

Kevin
is still in his same spot, holding a conversation with a different group of
girls. “Kevin!” I yell firmly, letting him know that this shit is serious.

Kevin
glances up from the girls, then tells them all goodbye. The girls leave,
disappointed. Kevin looks me and Denise over and scowls. “Did you do it?”

I
nod. “I did.”

“Good
job, li’l bro.” Kevin opens the driver-side back door. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s
drugged, man. Bad.” I set her in the backseat and climb in next to her.

“Damn,
I’ll get to the hospital as fast as I can.”

I
look at her face and run my hand along her cheek. Her eyes are shut, but she’s
still warm. I wrap my arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body, the
softness of her skin. I inhale her pear scent, which I can still smell beneath
the alcohol and William’s stink. I feel her heart beating. It’s weak, but
there.

Mine,
however, beats fast.
Way
too fast.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

The ride to the hospital seems to take forever. Denise still hasn’t woken up, but she’s still conscious and warm. I trace my
hand down her arm to her hand and gently interlock my fingers with hers. The
passing streetlights outside reveal her pale face, and I frown.

“Hang
in there,” I murmur. But I’m not sure she can hear me.

I
glance at the rearview mirror, and Kevin’s eyes meet mine. Then he looks back
to the road.

We
arrive at the emergency entrance of the university hospital, and I hop out of
the car with Denise. She can barely stand, so I carry her inside. Kevin goes to
find a place to park. I hate hospitals. The smells, the dreariness, the cold
feeling of death and sickness everywhere. It reminds me of the first time I
came here as a kid. I swore I’d never return to a hospital again.

Well,
here I am, but this time, I’m not the unfortunate patient.

I
stand at the receptionist’s desk, Denise in my arms as I try to sign her in.
Her body is limp, and her head is tilted to the side like she’s sleeping.

As
I explain Denise’s condition, and what happened to her, the receptionist’s eyes
settle on her, and the woman’s face pales. She buzzes a nurse, and moments
later, the double doors that lead further into the emergency room swing open. A
nurse wearing blue scrubs wheels out a stretcher. She’s young, wears glasses,
and her dirty blonde hair is tied in a ponytail.

“Sir,
we need to get her to immediate treatment. Please lay her down here,” the nurse
says, patting the sheet-covered padded cushion of the stretcher.

I
do so carefully. Denise’s head leans to the side, and her eyes are still
closed. She looks peaceful in that state. “Where are we going?” I ask the
nurse.

She
sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to be with her at
this time. I will take it from here.”

“What?
But, Denise—”

“We
will take good care of her, sir. For now, though, you must wait out here until
a nurse or doctor gives the okay.”

“How
long will that be?”

“I’m
not sure. Perhaps several hours, at the very least. Now, please … ” She steps
in front of the stretcher and pushes it through the double doors.

Denise …

I
stand at the closed double doors, staring helplessly. Finally, I slump my
shoulders and make my way to the waiting room. It isn’t too crowded in here,
and I settle in a vacant chair in the back.

The
pain and numbness in my right arm returns as my adrenaline high subsides. Now
that I know it’s not broken, I’ll just ice it up when I get home.

My
phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I pull it out.
Chris.
I frown and reluctantly answer it. “What’s up?”

“Dom?
Did you leave already?”

“Yeah.
I’m at the hospital right now.”

“What?
What the hell’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,
Chris, I’m fine. Look, I gotta go. I’ll be home later and we can talk.”

“Dom!
Wait, why haven’t you—”

I
end the call and stuff the phone back in my pocket. I look up in time to see
Kevin come into the waiting room. He sits in an empty chair beside me.

“How’s
she doing?” He asks with concerned eyes.

“The
nurse just took her in,” I say. “Denise was conscious, but I don’t know what
kind of damage William may have done to her.” I crack my knuckles. I swear, if
William infected her with an STD or worse, I
will
make him pay.

Kevin
rubs his hand over his hair, looking distraught. “Damn. I never thought this
would happen again. That we’d be in a hospital again, y’know?”

I
purse my lips. I know what he’s getting at, and it sucks that we’re both
thinking about it. I remember that day at the children’s hospital, where I had
to go through so many tests I felt like some science experiment.

“Pops
didn’t win this round, by the way,” Kevin says, breaking me from my thoughts.
“So don’t you start thinking he did.”

I
grit my teeth. I’m sure Pops is happy that I’m feeling miserable right now.
This whole night has been emotionally exhausting. How could he have
not
won? Someone valuable to me has been
hurt, and I can’t do a damn thing about it right now.

 

* * *

 

I wake up to the sound of Kevin’s voice. “We need to
go to the cops about this, man.” Yawning, I check the clock and realize I slept
in the same position in a waiting room chair for six hours. I stretch and turn
to my brother, who still looks whipped.

Cops. Oh yeah.
That
shit happened.
And still no one has given us any updates on
Denise’s condition. “Yeah, we definitely need to. Whether or not the cops do
anything about it is a different story.”

“I’m
sure they will. They’ve been taking rape cases seriously, especially this time
of year near the end of the spring semester with all the parties.”

“Yeah,
but won’t Denise have to say something to the cops, too? What if she doesn’t remember
anything?”

“It’s
worth taking the chance that she will, li’l bro. Now come on.”

Before
leaving, I give the receptionist my number, telling her to call me as soon as
there is news on Denise’s condition.

 

* * *

 

We’re at the police station for what seems like hours
reporting the incident and filling out tons of paperwork. It’s almost noon
Saturday, and while we’re getting a bite to eat, I get a call from the hospital
about us being allowed to see Denise. We haul ass back to the hospital. I
make a quick stop at the gift shop to buy some roses and a teddy bear.

The
receptionist allows us through the emergency room’s double doors. Inside, we
pass by the nurse’s station and one of them looks up at us cheerily. “Good
afternoon, sirs, may I help you?”

“Hi,
I’m looking for Denise Ramsey,” I say.

She
gets up from her chair and comes out from behind the desk. “This way.”

We
head down a long hallway of curtained-off rooms. The lights are dim, and my
skin still tingles from all the sickness and despair everywhere. The muted
sounds of coughing, talking, and groaning fill my ears.

The
nurse leads us to Denise’s room and peeks through the curtain. “Miss Ramsey,
you have some visitors.”

“Okay,
thanks.”

I
smile, noting the life that’s returned to Denise’s beautiful voice.

The
nurse steps out of the way. “Go right in.”

“Thank
you,” I whisper.

“No
problem. If you need anything, let me know. My name is Paulette.” She leaves.

For
a moment, Kevin and I stand before the closed curtain. My heart pounds.

Kevin
nudges me with his elbow. “You go first,” he whispers.

I
nod, open the curtain, and slowly head inside. The room is big enough for a
bed, a small table, and a chair. Denise is there in bed, wide awake. Her face
is no longer pale, and her eyes are bright and cheery.

She
looks great.

My
throat tightens. “Denise.”

She
smiles. God, I missed that beautiful smile. “Dominick!” She moves to get up
from the bed, but I sweep in beside her, presenting her the flowers and stuffed
animal.

“No,
don’t get up,” I say, setting the vase atop her bedside table. “You need to get
as much rest as you can.”

She
eyes the flowers and cuddles the bear. “Those are beautiful. Thank you.”

Kevin
pokes his head from behind the curtain. “Hey.” He waves and approaches the foot
of the bed.

Her
face softens. “Hi, Kevin. Or do you prefer ‘Kevitron’?”

“Ah,
‘Kevin’ when I’m not on stage.”

I
gently run my hand over her arm, my mind going over last night’s events. “How
are you doing?”

She
looks down at her lap. “I’m okay.”

The
curtain opens again, and a woman enters the room, clipboard in hand. She wears
a stethoscope around her neck. A plastic nametag hangs from the front pocket of
her white overcoat—Dr. Cindy Bannerman. She adjusts her tortoiseshell glasses
as she looks over the three of us cheerily. Her gaze settles on Denise. “Hello,
young lady. How are you doing?”

“Great,
Cindy. Thank you. Will I finally be leaving now?”

“You
definitely will. And it looks like you have two handsome princes here to take
you home.” She nods to Kevin and me.

Denise
chuckles, and Kevin and I grin. I like this doc. Reminds me a lot of my nurse
when I was in the hospital, Shevonne Holsen. She always made her young patients
laugh and gave them a lollipop before they left.

“All
right,” Cindy says. She scribbles something down on her clipboard, then clicks
the pen and sticks it in her front pocket. “What I recommend for you is lots of
rest and to make an appointment to speak with a counselor.” She pulls out a
sheet of paper from her clipboard and hands it to Denise. “Here’s a list of
counselors in the area. If you’re looking for someone close to the campus, this
one has an office only a few blocks away.”

I
glance at the name she points to and recognize it as the same counselor Kevin
and I had. On her right hand, Cindy wears a silver ring with a teddy bear
symbol on the inset. I recognize that symbol as one some of the doctors and
nurses at the children’s hospital used to wear on lapel pins or on their name
tags. I look up at Kevin, and we lock gazes for a moment. He must’ve seen the
ring, too. Perhaps he’s thinking the same thing I am about the doc.

“And
these,”—Cindy pulls out two business cards from one of her coat pockets—“are
numbers to the rape and sexual assault hotline and the crisis center that’s not
far from here. Please don’t be afraid to call them. I know it’s never easy to
talk about this kind of thing, but please remember that help is only a phone
call away.”

“Thank
you.” Denise takes the cards.

Cindy
smiles warmly. “You are very welcome, Miss Ramsey. Now, then. I will get your discharge
papers ready, and you will be all set to go.” She turns to leave.

“Ah,
Cindy?” I call.

She
looks over her shoulder. “Yes?”

I
lick my dry lips. I’m so curious about her now. “Did you use to work at the
children’s hospital?”

She
nods. “Yes, a long time ago. That’s where I started. I still go there from time
to time to see old friends and colleagues.”

“You
wouldn’t happen to know a nurse named Shevonne Holsen?”

Cindy’s
eyebrows raise. “Shevonne? I know her very well. She still works at the
children’s hospital. We used to work very close together. A very sweet lady,
she is.”

“Yeah.”
I feel a little choked up. “If you ever see her again, can you tell her
‘Dom-Dom’ said hi?” Even now, I still haven’t forgotten the ridiculous nickname
she’d given me, like she had done for all her patients.

“‘Dom-Dom’?”
Cindy chuckles. “That definitely sounds like her doing. All right, I will be
sure to let her know if I see her again.” Cindy leaves, closing the curtain
behind her.

Denise
gives me an amused look, and I shake my head. “It’s a long story.”

“A
long, but cute story, considering the circumstances,” Kevin says. “Man, I
swear, that woman knew how to turn any bad situation good.”

“I’d
love to hear it sometime,” Denise says.

I
smile. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

Kevin
turns to leave. “All right. I guess I should give you two some privacy. I’m
gonna go wait in the car.”

I
nod and watch him leave. The curtain closes, and I return my attention to
Denise. Sadness begins to fill her eyes. Just seeing this makes my eyes start
to burn, too.

There’s
so much I want to ask her. I don’t know where to begin.

“Please
say it was all just a dream,” she whispers, hugging the bear to her chest.

I
purse my lips to stave off tears.
So she
remembers?
“I wish it were. Then we could move on with our lives. But
unfortunately, that’s not the case.” I take one of her hands, interlocking my
fingers with hers. “Do you remember anything?”

She
nods slowly. “He was so forceful. He looked so dangerous. So scary. Like a
changed man. I’ve never seen him like that before.” A tear rolls down her
cheek. “I don’t remember anything after that.”

There
is one question still floating in my mind. An important one, because it would
mean an even greater trauma for her—and for me—if I was too late to stop it.
But I’m not sure how to ask her. “Denise, did
he, that is … I … um … ”

She
squeezes my hand. “No, he didn’t get that far, thank goodness. The doctors who
checked me out said they saw no signs of intercourse.” She stares deep into my
eyes. “Dominick, I owe you my life for saving me. You’re like … a guardian
angel. I can’t believe you were there. I looked for you at the party but didn’t
see you. How did you even know where I was?”

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