Page 41 of Queen of the Pole

Two hours later, and I still didn’t know who did this shit to her. They’d done plenty of scans, just to check and see if anything was broken or fractured, but it wasn’t. She was punched in both eyes, so they were both black. With the medication that they’d given her, the swelling did manage to go down just a little bit. That shit looked fuckin horrible, and it enraged me to the point that I wanted to go after and kill whoever the fuck had done this shit to her.

She had bruising all over her face, a busted lip, with scratches all over her neck, and arms. She was in so much pain, and gone off the medication that they’d given her, so she hasn’t fully been awake ever since we arrived at the hospital. I just needed her to wake up for one minute, so that I could find out who was responsible for this.

“How you doing, man? I’m detective Wright and this is my partner, Jones. We got a call about a domestic situation, so we just wanted to come out, and ask you a few questions,” one of the detectives said to me.

I was sitting down in one of the chairs on the side of Deja’s bed. I sucked my teeth at what he just said to me because we didn’t even know what the fuck happened to her, and they were already trying to label it a domestic situation. Already trying to put this shit on me.

“Ay man, leave a card or something, and when she wakes up, I’ll let her know that ya’ll stopped by. She got enough shit going on tonight already. They got her under heavy medication, and she’s in pain. Whatever questions ya’ll have her for, she can’t answer them for you right now. I wasn’t there when this shit happened, so I can’t answer anything for you either. Deja, and whoever did this to her are the only people that can explain to you what happened,” I was firm in my response, hoping that they would get the hint, and get the fuck on.

“You brought her to the emergency room but can’t explain to us what happened?” the detective asked me.

“I don’t know what the fuck you getting at, but don’t. You can run my name, nigga. Warren Bennett. My face is good. If you need some help with this case, pull up the cameras on Biscayne, and 37th ave. You’ll see exactly what the fuck I did, and how she ended up in the car with me in the first place. I saw her car pulled over on the side of the road, busted her passenger window out because she wouldn’t unlock the door, and I brought her here. My brother picked her car up, and he took it to my house. Like I told you, leave a card or something, and if she wants to talk to you once she’s up, she’ll do that,” I snapped. They nodded their heads at what I said.

“Our apologies Mr. Bennett. We were just trying to establish some kind of timeline and figure out what took place tonight. I’ll leave my card here. Once she’s up, can you have her reach out to us? We want to make sure that she gets the justice she deserves,” he told me.

He handed me the card, in which I took from him, and I sat it down on the table. They gave one final look towards Deja and then walked out of the room.

About five minutes later, the nurse came back. She was a white, young nurse, and she’s been taking care of Deja ever since she was brought to the back. She walked over to me, and when she cleared her throat, I was prepared for whatever it was that she was getting ready to say.

“Mr. Bennett, I don’t want you to think that myself or any of the other staff members are accusing you of hurting her. With the condition that she was brought in, there are just certain protocols that we must follow. We had to contact law enforcement,” she let me know, and I nodded my head towards that.

“I understand. I know you’re just doing your job,” I responded. She nodded and then went over to Deja.

She stood there, staring at her for a few seconds, and out of nowhere, we both noticed when Deja began to groan, and her eyes slowly fluttered open. With the swelling, her eyes weren’t opened all the way, but it was enough for me to see most of her pupils.

From where I was sitting, I took notice of the way she frantically looked around. I’m sure she was confused. It was confirmed through her vitals that she’d passed out behind the wheel, so she probably was wondering how she got to the hospital.

“Hi, Deja. I’m your nurse. My name is Monica. How are you feeling?” the nurse asked Deja.

She took a while to answer her question. That’s because she glanced over at me, and I’m sure she was wondering if she was seeing things. She attempted to pick up her left hand, so that she could rub her eye, but once she felt the swelling, she winced from the pain and lowered her hand down. Because of the swelling, her vision wasn’t the best, so I watched her as she squinted her eyes, trying to make sure that it was me for real. Once she was sure that it was me, I saw the way her body relaxed a little bit.

“My head hurts. Everything on my face hurts too,” she announced.

“We gave you something for the pain. Are you confused? Do you know where you are right now?” the nurse asked the same thing that I wanted to know.

The bruises that she had all over her face, you could tell she took multiple jabs to the head, so I was even wondering how her memory was.

“I’m at the hospital, but I don’t remember how I got here,” she announced, and nurse Monica nodded.

“Mr. Bennett over there brought you to the hospital. That’s how you got here,” nurse Monica said.

Deja didn’t say anything else in response to that. She just continued to lay there in bed, and she told the nurse again that her head was hurting. Nurse Monica let Deja know that she would come back with more medication, and after that, she left the room, leaving just the two of us inside.

Now that it was just us two, I stood up from the chair and went for Deja’s right side of the bed. Seeing her pretty face battered and bruised up like this made me so fuckin angry. I knew that these weren’t bruises that a bitch left on her. I felt like a nigga did this shit to her. I wasn’t going to be in the dark much longer because I cleared my throat, getting ready to ask her what happened.

“Who did this shit to you?” I wanted to know.

“How did you get me here to the hospital? The last thing I remember is driving home. I pulled over because my vision was blurry and my head started killing me. How did you get me here? What? You put a tracker under my car? How the fuck did you get me here to the hospital?” her voice rose a little bit.

She looked so angry, hurt, and confused as she looked up at me. Through her black eyes that were swollen, big tear drops started falling down her face.

“Why the fuck would I put a tracker under your car? And stop fuckin yelling because two detectives already walked in this bitch, and I felt like they were trying to pin this shit on me. I’m not your fuckin enemy, love. I’m the nigga that got you here safely, and I haven’t fuckin left your side since you got here!” I said back to her in a harsh whisper.

It was that same look in her eyes that I’ve seen before. The one where you could tell she wanted to believe me. She wanted to take my word but was having a hard time doing so.

“How though? You just magically appeared? You just knew where the hell I was? How?” she asked.

“I saw a car that looked like yours pulled over on the side of the road. I’m coming from dinner. I took a chance and pulled my car over behind you. I was knocking on the window, but you wouldn’t open the door. I had to break your passenger side window. Once I saw it was you, I brought you here. That’s what happened,” I explained to her.