“You haven’t even been awake 5 minutes and already causing trouble.” My mom, her voice like a balm to my pain, bitches.
“Do you want water? Do you need anything?” Garrett asks.
“Water is good, then you can tell me if they caught the bastards who did this.” I move my other hand to Elead’s back, holding him tight as I shift in bed.
“Let me, sweetheart, I’m going to raise the bed.” The noise of the bed causes El to snarfle like a dog and resettle himself against me. My face lights up at the joy of it. I’m here, I’m alive, I’m with my family. Old and new, by blood and by choice of my heart.
I scan the room once I’m sitting up, seeing my mom and Daddio, tears streaming down their faces, as they approach my bed. Daddio gives me a kiss on the forehead, resting his large hand against my cheek.
“My Principessa.”
I push his hand to my cheek, “I’m right here, daddio. Those bastards underestimated how hard it would be to get rid of me.”
My mom’s choked sob draws my attention to her. She pushes daddio away from my side, taking his place, ignoring his spluttering protests. “You are grounded.” She presses soft kisses all over my face, finally taking my hand that was holding daddio and pressing it to her own face.
“Ok. Same rules as before?”
“Yes. No tv, no phone, and no talking to Aunt Merith.”
“Priscilla, do you remember what happened? Can you tell us?”
I nod my head, gingerly, wincing a bit at the pain. “I can. I don’t want to do it more than once, if I don’t have to though, is there anyone you need to call?”
Garrett nods, pulling out his phone and sending a couple of text messages. “They are on their way.”
“Before they get here, what are my injuries?”
The three of them share a grim look, and I brace myself. Garrett speaks in a detached clinical tone, “Your liver was severely lacerated, you were bleeding internally, however, they were able to fix that during surgery. You have a concussion, broken arm, knife wounds all over your torso and legs that range from shallow to deep, that required stitches. Your face…um,” He has tears now welling in his eyes, I reach out my good hand to him, he grabs it like a lifeline. “Both cheekbones were broken, as well as your nose, some of your hair was torn out, and you are basically a giant bruise. Good news is, you’re like a living, breathing Jackson Pollack painting.”
“That is good news.” I deadpan. I close my eyes for a moment, taking it all in. I can’t believe I survived, I thought for sure my life was ending on the side of the road, in the dark, alone. But to wake up to my family, to my little guy snuggling into my chest. God is merciful, if not twisted in his lessons.
Rough hands wipe at the tears falling from my eyes. Garrett rests his forehead against mine, “You are here, b’shert, with me, with El. You are whole, I mean except for that bit of liver they had to remove, but I heard it will probably grow back, and your parents are wonderful people who told me so many embarrassing stories about you.”
I laugh, it feels good to laugh. They didn’t win, I win. I win so hard. “Jokes on you, I don’t get embarrassed.”
“Not even when your uterine lining is showing on the seat of your pants?” His warm breath drifts over my face as he chuckles.
“Those fucking ovaries, they did that shit on purpose.” I grump. “Nah, not embarrassed, at least not anymore, if you can’t handle it you aren’t the right man for me.”
“I can handle it, sweetheart, don’t worry. A little blood, a lot of bruising, watching you struggle and fight to survive, I can handle anything you throw my way, if it means I get to keep you.”
“I love you, Garrett.” I whisper out, barely able to speak.
“I love you, too.” He presses his lips to mine, a tender kiss to remind me I’m alive.
Garrett 27.
Judah and Bryan come into Priscilla’s hospital room. The nurse has just left, everything looks good, the doctor will be by later to evaluate.
“Priscilla, you remember Judah, this is Bryan, he is a friend of ours on the police force.” Priss scowls at that, her eyes narrowing into slits. Damn, she looks hot all riled up.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable speaking to him.” She spits out.
“Priscilla, I have a feeling of what you are going to tell us. I have been doing my own investigation. It will be brought directly to my supervisors, as well as, Internal Affairs. What happened to you, what happened to Jason, is not condoned or sanctioned by 99% of police officers on the force. Believe me when I tell you, I want the bastards to pay as much as you do.”
“Ok.” She still glares at him, but her shoulders relax. Eve places Elead back in Priscilla’s arms, I think to keep her calm. I nod at Eve, thankful she thought of that. “Is Jason…did he really die?”
Bryan nods his head solemnly.
“Fuck.” Priss moans out, cuddling Elead closer to her, kissing his head. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath then begins. She starts with Jason being brought to the PICU, retelling the conversation she had with me about her concerns regarding the father, mentions the unnecessary visits from the pediatrician, Dr. Stanton, calling the police and CPS, her conversation with her charge nurse, being pulled over and her attack. She identifies one of the attackers at Detective Steve Wells. After a photo array of officers is shown to her, she picks out Detective Don Smythe as his accomplice.
“Thank you, Priscilla. Your account will be especially useful. Smythe was running interference in the investigation of the abuse charges,
