Donuts and Handcuffs

She nodded, staring at me oddly. “Your eyes aren’t just light brown. They have – it’s like a little ring of orange around the pupil.”

“They call it a sunburst,” I said, glad that she was distracted by my weird irises. Her eyes went unfocused for a moment, lowering slightly. “Bailey, look at me. Only at me.”

“I’m looking,” she said, then she half giggled. “You’re gorgeous. Damn, where were you hiding that chest? It’s like... Wow. It’s everywhere.”

I flashed her a grin, trying to keep her talking. “I’m sorry you fell, but you’re going to be fine. The paramedics are coming to help us, okay? They’ll be here any second.”

Her lips quivered, near tears. “I’m not allowed to fall. Daddy said if you get hurt, you can’t run fast. The most important thing is to be able to run away fast.”

“Shh,” I murmured, “It’s okay. I think everyone gets hurt once in a while. You’ll be patched up soon.” Then I heard the bell tinkle over the front door. “Back here,” I yelled, and was relieved to see Christine and Gary, our two best medics come around the corner.

“Bailey slipped and gashed her arm with a knife,” I said quickly, “And she’s needle-phobic.”

“Hi there, Bailey,” Gary said gently, whipping out a tiny flashlight to check her pupils while Christine checked her pulse. “Did you hit your head, do you think?”

She turned it side to side slowly. “I don’t think so. I think I sort of crumpled instead of–” Her head turned to see me handing her blood-soaked arm to Christine, and the scream that rang through the air almost made me want to openly sob for the first time since the second grade when Marcy stabbed my hand with a pencil.

Bailey grabbed frantically for me with her right hand, her eyes wild until I squeezed it tight. I didn’t let go of her hand in the ambulance, whispering to her about donut flavors to calm her during the ride. For the first time in my life I used my police status slightly unfairly to make sure she was seen at the hospital as quickly as humanly possible.

She hovered in and out of consciousness. Everyone assured me that she’d be fine, and that it was panic more than the blood loss that was making her weak.

But she was chilly, and knowing that she’d be getting stitches against her will made my jaw clench so hard I was grinding my teeth while pacing in the hallway. I didn’t like leaving her with strangers, which was illogical, but they were likely putting her in a gown and scrubbing her up.

Doctor Clements stuck his head out into the hallway, looking for me. “Since you’re hanging around, we might need you to help restrain her.” I rushed in to see her slumped in a green gown in a wheelchair, looking so weak I wanted to punch something. My unfocused anger was unnerving, but I was upset that this sweet girl was in pain.

“No needles,” Bailey announced, sitting up, clear for just a moment.

The doctor looked from her to me. “We’re jammed tonight, and if we need to clear a room to knock her out, it will take a lot longer. Can you hold her?” He leaned in to whisper to me, “The needles to numb her arm are tiny.”

“Yes,” I said, trying to figure out what to do. They began to transfer her from a wheelchair to a cot, but I got up on the bed first, leaning my back against the wall. “Put her in my arms and I’ll hold her still,” I said. She seemed to relax, resting her back against my chest.

As they stretched out her left arm on a padded wheeled table, I pinned it firmly, and turned Bailey’s face to the right, tipping her chin up. “Look at me,” I said gently. “They’re just going to clean you up, okay? You can totally ignore them. Just talk to me.”

“You wrecked your uniform shirt to tie up my arm,” she said, on the verge of either laughing or passing out. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes,” I said. “But that shirt was getting old, so that’s okay.” Watching the doctor prep the needle, a nurse gently held down her wrist. “Hey, there are mosquitoes in here,” I whispered into her ear. “I just got stung.”

Her wide blue eyes were so trusting that lying to her, even a stupid lie for a good cause, almost made me queasy. “Really?” She tried to look around, but I curled my right hand around her head, holding her so that she couldn’t accidentally glance to the left. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I got stung too.”

“It will likely only be a few times,” I said gently.

It seemed that the first needle was all it took for the rest of the numbing needles to go unnoticed. But it was soon time for the stitches. “Bailey, I’m going to hum you to sleep now, okay?”

She nodded, cuddling against me in a way that made me want to stay here with my arms around her forever. Her skin smelled like her sweetness was too intense for her body to contain it. Her cheek on my bare chest made me realize I wasn’t even embarrassed to be shirtless in a professional setting. The way I was holding her certainly wasn’t normal, but nobody seemed to care as long as they could do their jobs.

Realizing that the staff likely assumed I was her boyfriend made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t being inappropriate, just very familiar. It didn’t quite sit right, but keeping her calm and still was the most important thing right now.

Bailey genuinely seemed comforted by the close contact. But there was something else. The way she instinctively curled into me made me wonder if she’d been craving someone’s touch. If she’d been alone for a long time. There was something in the way she clung to me almost desperately that tugged at my heart.

Placing my hand over her ear, I began humming gently so that she couldn’t hear them stitching her up, or talk about waiting until they were done to put in an IV. Her breathing became soft and regular, and the thought of perhaps waking up beside her someday made me feel a surge of longing I didn’t even know I possessed.

She stayed out while they finished up, then the doctor whispered to me, “Did you see how much blood she lost?”

“Maybe a pint, I think,” I mouthed. The nurse pointed to the IV bag. When she gestured to indicate a pint, I nodded, trying to visualize how much blood was on the floor, while my stomach clenched at the mental picture. They checked her blood pressure again while she moaned in my arms from the tension of the arm cuff.

“Okay, she’s a lot better now that she’s calm. She doesn’t need a transfusion for this sort of blood loss, especially since she has no medical records. She’s a healthy young thing,” the doctor said quietly. The nurse put in the IV and Bailey barely move

d.