Chapter 22
My body was being jostled around, and I opened my eyes to find Cal staring down at me. I glanced around. There was an IV in my arm, something securing me around my middle, and a clip thing on my fi
nger. A faint beep, beep, beep sounded, matching the pulse in my neck.
“Ambulance?” I asked.
Cal nodded. He stroked my hair and looked on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He didn’t have his heavy fire jacket or helmet, but his red suspenders came up over his blue T-shirt, and he still had on his fire pants and boots. Flecks of ash lined his handsome face.
“Brock!” I said, and tried to sit up, but found it difficult because my neck was in some kind of wrap.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Kitten. The police came and took him into custody.”
“He was looking for something. Said I was taking things from him.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cal said softly, and ran his fingers along my hairline. “I don’t want you to worry about that. I want you to rest.” He looked at Rhett, who sat across from me. “What are you running?”
“Standard drip for hydration. Her BP is a little low, vitals are good, though.”
They were talking over me like I wasn’t there. Cal looked so stern, tense, I wondered if this is how all people felt riding in an ambulance. Being my first time, I didn’t know what to expect, other than it seemed like overkill for a dizzy spell.
“I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine, I just collapsed.” I tried adjusting my shoulders, but it was no use. I was strapped down pretty well. The smell of rubbing alcohol tied with the sound of sloshing liquids as we hit a rough patch of road surrounded me.
“We’re already en-route, and you’re going to get checked out,” he said sternly. “Can you tell me what happened? How he got in your home and where were you were hit?” He stared at me, and it looked like he was about ready to cry. “Besides the face,” he said softly.
Yeah, I figured I must have a good welt on my cheek because it was throbbing like hell.
“He just pushed me some, the only big hit was to my cheek. I’m really okay.”
Cal scoffed, and ran his thumb along my non-bruised cheekbone. “I’m sorry, Lana, I should have protected you better.”
“You did. You have. I went home, I opened the door to him. I just wanted to know what he was looking for, because it was him. The man that night was Brock.”
“How do you know?”
“Erica, my old advisor, she drives a silver 4x4, and I talked with her today.”
“She helped him?”
“I don’t think she knew what he was planning. But she left him. I told her the truth and she believed me and left him today. He blames me, and that’s why I think he was angry, but…”
There was more. Something was going on, and I didn’t know enough to understand it. He said I was stupid, like things were going on in front of my face that were bigger than I could imagine.
My head just pounded.
“Don’t stress about that, love,” Cal said. “You’re safe, and it sounds like Erica is away from Brock, and he’s in jail for at least the night.”
We pulled up to the hospital and the doors opened to take me out on the bed. Cal was right beside me.
“I fought him off.”
Something proud and terrified and sad and happy marred his perfect features. “Yeah, you did, love. I’m so proud of you.”
~
“No concussion,” the doctor said, as I sat in the hospital bed and he looked over my chart. I had been there a couple hours, they ran all the tests that Cal insisted on. “Aside from a few bumps and bruises, you look to be in good shape.”
Bea was sitting next to me and squeezed my hand. Her quilted vest was over a long-sleeved sweater, and she smelled like sugar cookies. I knew it was her and not just her home. I wanted to snuggle against her and melt away from the sterile world of the hospital.