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He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead and w
hispered, “Goodnight, baby.” Then he sat beside me at the head of my bed, his back to my headboard, and he softly stroked my hair as I drifted into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.
My last thoughts before I wearily surrendered to my sleep were: what have I done?
CHAPTER 9: DYLAN
When I pulled into the hospital parking lot, I parked my truck on the curb at the emergency room entrance, not caring the slightest bit at the moment that it was a no-parking zone. I ran around to the passenger side, extracting Zia from the seat belt, and carried her into the emergency room lobby.
A male nurse stood at the desk and saw me as I entered, observing the limp, unconscious girl in my arms. I expected I would have to cause a scene to get the hospital staff to react, but he immediately sprang to action, coming to me as he put two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse.
“I think she’s been drugged. She’s still breathing, but she’s been unconscious for the past seven, maybe ten minutes now,” I explained urgently. “I got her here as soon as I could. Please, help her,” I pled with the staff, as another female nurse had approached us now.
They took her from me and placed her on a stretcher that someone had wheeled out from somewhere I didn’t notice.
“Sir, we’ll take it from here. Please wait here in the lobby, and someone will be with you shortly,” the female nurse told me as they wheeled her quickly away through a set of double doors that closed behind them.
I noticed my pulse racing and I had no idea what to do next. I stood there for a moment, letting the panic settle, trying to calm down and convince myself that she was going to be okay. She had to be okay.
I decided to go out and park my truck legally. Afterwards, I went back inside to sit and wait. I checked in with the receptionist from time to time asking for updates, any news, and when I could see Zia.
The time was dragging by, which was killing me. I felt unproductive. I wanted to do something, but I was helpless to do anything at all. Finally, after a couple of hours had passed, a nurse came out and told me that Zia was stable and had been taken to a room.
Thank God.
Once I followed the nurse up to the third floor and maneuvered our way to her room, I entered cautiously. She was still asleep, and the tubes and wires connected to her had my heart in my throat.
“Is she okay?” I asked the nurse, a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair.
“She will be fine. Her blood tests showed trace amounts of a drug called Rohypnol. It’s a good thing you brought her in when you did. This drug metabolizes quickly and is hard to prove once it’s out of the system. You’ll have a good case if you decide to file a police report,” the nurse explained. “We have her on some fluids to help flush out the toxins, but she may have a headache or possibly some nausea when she wakes up.”
The nurse asked if I had any other questions, then checked the monitors one last time before leaving the room. Then it was quiet.
I pulled up a chair beside the hospital bed and sat next to her as I took her hand in mine. She looked so peaceful and beautiful lying there, asleep.
I felt guilty for leaving her alone with that dirt bag and for giving him the opportunity to do this to her. If I had only followed my gut instincts and just told her how I had felt instead of trying to wait until the end of the night when I was supposed to drive her home, none of this would have happened.
I must have dozed off while sitting there beside her. I roused a couple hours later when I felt Zia stirring. My hand was still holding hers when I came to.
“Dylan? What happened?” she asked groggily, a confused expression on her face as she looked around to see where she was.
“You’re awake. How do you feel?” I had never felt such relief to see someone awake in my life.
“I have a slight headache, but other than that I feel okay,” she answered.
I reached for the remote attached to the bed and pressed the button to call for the nurse.
“You scared the hell out of me, actually. I walked back to the table last night and you were gone. I looked around everywhere but couldn’t find you, so I thought maybe you had gone to the bathroom, until I saw you being dragged out by Cason. I knew something was wrong, and when I got to you I saw exactly what was happening… He had drugged you, Zia.”
She said nothing as that sunk in for a few moments, and then a tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. It broke my heart.
“No, no, don’t cry, Zia. You’re okay now. You’re safe.” I wiped the tear away gently with my thumb.
At that, a nurse came in, a little too cheerful for what I knew Zia and I were both feeling at that moment. She began removing the I.V. and heart rate monitor wires as she explained to Zia that there were no more traces of drug in her system, that the Rohypnol had metabolized out within a few hours, and that as soon as she was able to get up and get around, she was free to go.
Once the nurse left the room, Zia asked about her clothes, so I handed them to her and helped her out of the hospital bed. She was able to walk into the restroom on her own, where she changed back into the clothes she had worn the night before.
When she came out, I couldn’t help but notice her eyes were red, and I wondered if she had been crying, though she wasn’t any longer if she had been. We left and I drove her home.
