“Vitals?” a man asked. The woman rattled off some numbers and Abby got distracted as she tried to place the familiar smell she sensed. She knew it. What was it?
A pounding sound got louder as it neared, stopping right next to her.
“Oh, Jesus, Abby!”
“Chris,” she mumbled, forcing her eyes to open and find him.
“Abby,” he said, bending down over her. “I’m here. Don’t be scared, baby. I’m here.”
“Where are we?” she tried to say. She was woozy, and she couldn’t tell if the words came out or not.
“Abby,” Chris said again, laying his hand on her arm, “You’re at the hospital. You were beaten in the woods by the club. We’re going to give you some medicine now, to help you sleep. Just relax and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
She wanted to keep looking at him, to talk to him, but the urge to let her eyes close was too strong.
Chapter 12
The rhythmic beeping sound was getting louder and louder. It must be the alarm clock. Abby groaned, eager to turn it off. She squinted as bright light flooded her eyes when they opened.
She wrinkled her face in confusion as she saw Chris slouched in a recliner next to her, snoring lightly. His hand was up on the bed next to her arm.
She tried to say his name, but nothing came out. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. She reached a hand toward his, pulling along the lines that snaked out of her arm. As soon as she touched his hand, he jolted awake.
“Abby?” His eyes met hers and she was reassured by the sight of his messy golden waves. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but he made her feel safe.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Want some water?”
She wanted to nod, but her head was too heavy. A small croak was all she could manage.
“Justin,” Chris called. “She’s awake.”
“Abby!” Justin stumbled out of the bed next to hers, and she was alarmed by the look of concern on his face. “How do you feel?”
“She probably can’t talk much right now,” Chris said, reaching for the small pitcher next to the bed and pushing the call button.
“You might not be able to talk, but there’s something I need to say to you,” Justin said, approaching her bed. “You can’t work there anymore, Abby. You can’t go back there. I’ll quit school if you do. We’ll manage without that job.”
Abby’s heart broke for Justin as his voice cracked. He was a man, but to her, he would always be a boy. Her little brother. Seeing the tears in his eyes reminded her of everything they had survived together. His sandy brown hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled, and she hated that she had caused him such worry.
She looked to Chris, unsure she could speak well enough to explain.
“She already quit the club, Justin,” he said. “This was her last weekend.”
Justin nodded, looking numb as he sat down on the other bed.
“Yes, Dr. Reneau?” a nurse said as she entered the room.
“Can you fill this with cold water, please? And page Vetrovski.”
“Nice to see you’re awake, Abby,” the nurse said, taking the pitcher.
As she left, Chris approached the bed, looking down at her.
“You were attacked in the woods outside the club. Do you remember that?” he asked. She managed a slight nod.
“That’s good. You have internal injuries and a lot of bruising and swelling on your face. Right now you’re on pain medication and it’s probably making everything kind of hazy. We think you’ll make a complete recovery, but you’ll need a lot of rest. The girls are with Marla, so don’t worry about them.”
The nurse returned with the water, pouring some into a plastic cup with a straw in it. She approached Abby, but Chris reached for the cup before she made it.
“I can do this, Lori,” he said. She handed over the cup and he gingerly placed the straw between Abby’s lips. As she sipped, the cold water seemed to bring her some clarity.
“Thanks,” she said, leaning her head back against the pillow before jumping forward again with a start. “Amber! Where’s Amber?”
Chris sighed and reached for her hand.
“Amber’s here, too. But she’s in really bad shape. It’s too soon to tell how badly she was injured.”
“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what you know, Chris.”
He sighed as he met her eyes.
“She was sexually assaulted. It was brutal. Then she was beaten. She probably has brain damage, but we don’t know yet.”
“Oh, God, Chris,” she said, a sick feeling rising from her stomach to her throat. “Was I raped?”