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My Kind of Beautiful (Finding Love 2)

Page 61

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“We need to call the police. He could be the one who did that to her.”

“No,” I argue. “He said someone hurt her. My guess is he saved her. No police until she tells us what happened.”

“If he didn’t do anything wrong, he has nothing to worry about.”

“No,” I repeat. “She’s protective of him and if he’s arrested and didn’t do anything wrong, she’ll be upset.”

We get to the hospital and head straight for the Emergency Room since that’s where they’ll bring her through. Since I’m also an EMT, I have a card that lets me through. Chase offers to stay back and wait for our families.

They wheel her into a room, and my heart sinks when her eyes are still closed. Her not waking up can’t be good. I stay out of the way while the EMTs explain their findings to the doctor, who immediately orders tests and asks that I wait in the waiting room.

The next few hours are long. We all sit together, waiting for information. It’s late and everyone is exhausted. Our nerves are frayed. Nobody bothers to say a word or make fake conversation. The nurse comes out once to let us know the doctor is still running tests, and once he has answers, he’ll let us know.

“Family of Alexandria Scott,” the doctor says.

We all jump to our feet.

“Yes,” Tristan says. “I’m her father.”

“Alexandria was brought in with a head injury. After running tests, we’ve found that she has a traumatic brain injury. There doesn’t appear to be any permanent damage to the brain itself, but from speaking with Miss Scott—”

“She’s awake?” I blurt out.

“Yes, she woke up a little while ago. We asked her a few questions, and it’s clear she’s disoriented. She knows who she is and where she is, but she can’t recall the last several hours leading up to the incident, which is very common amongst brain injury patients. She suffered a severe concussion, but luckily the swelling has gone down. We’ll need to monitor her for the next forty-eight hours and run another MRI to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Can we see her?” I ask, trying like hell to be patient, but freaking the fuck out. She has a concussion, swelling in her head… She can’t remember the last few hours. This could’ve been worse, way worse, but it’s still bad. And whoever the fuck did this to her is going to pay.

“Yes,” the doctor says. “Let’s start with one at a time, and once she’s moved to her private room, she can have more visitors.”

Lexi

My head is pounding—a mixture of the hit I took to the head and the obsessive need to know how I hit my head. The constant thump, thump, thump feels like my skull is being drop-kicked over and over again like in the MMA fights the guys my dad trains participate in. I’m down, tapping the hell out, only the ref isn’t stopping the fight. The harder I try to remember what happened, the worse the thumping gets.

With my eyes closed, I try to rest and calm down. The doctor said he was going to let my family know how I’m doing and allow them to come back. Hopefully someone will have some answers for me. Did I hit my head while surfing? And if so, who saved me? All the doctor could tell me was that I took a hit to my head, which caused me to get a bad concussion. It’s the reason I feel nauseous and lightheaded. Apparently there was even swelling to my brain, which thankfully went down. And now they’re just monitoring me to make sure I’m in the clear.

The door opens and in walks Alec. His face is pale and he has purplish-black bags under his eyes. He looks like he’s aged several years. The second he lays his eyes on me, they well up with tears. He rushes over and gently cups my face in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he kisses my forehead.

“Seeing your beautiful blue eyes open is the best fucking thing,” he murmurs, his lips lingering on my skin.

“Why wouldn’t you see them?” I ask, confused.

Releasing my face, he pulls back and snags a chair, quickly dragging it over so he can sit close to me. He takes the hand closest to him and threads our fingers together, bringing it up to his lips to kiss. He closes his eyes again and inhales, like he’s taking in my scent.

“Alec, what happened?”

He opens his eyes. “What do you remember?”

“Nothing…Well, nothing that would lead to me being here. The last thing I remember is going to the beach.” I try to conjure up a single memory past that, but all that happens is the thumping worsens, making me flinch in pain.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes widening in fear.


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