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Thanks to the heavy medication I am on, I sleep more than my eyes are open, but I’ve been awake for at least an hour now. I’m doing nothing besides lying here and looking at the ceiling. Surprisingly, I’m not bored. I’m not scared or worried. Right now, I’m nothing. I’m simply… here. I’m not sure if it’s the medicine the doctor gave me or if I’m so overwhelmed that I’m numb.
My body aches but not badly. As long as I stay still, I feel no pain. Only when I move does it feel like I’m very sore, especially in my lower stomach.
I don’t know how I’m feeling mentally about everything Quinton told me. Even when I think about it, there is no emotion attached to it. Not yet anyway. I’m sure that will change when I start remembering… if I remember.
Some memories have popped back up, but none from the attack. The drug they gave me must be blocking them. I remember Lucas dropping me off at my house and no one being there. I even recall thinking about calling Quinton, but I decided against it because I had the idiotic idea of being able to protect myself. How naïve and stupid I was.
The sound of approaching footsteps breaks the silence of the night, making me fist the soft sheets beneath my fingers. My heart races, and I suck in a deep breath, holding it until the door opens enough to let me see who it is.
When Quinton’s dark, messy hair comes into view, I puff out the air in my lungs and relax my hands. Closing the door behind him quietly, he walks into the room until he’s standing right next to the bed, so close I can touch him.
“You’re awake,” he whispers.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Do you need some more pain meds? Are you hungry?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. I’ll be right back.” Quinton disappears into the attached bathroom but doesn’t close the door all the way. I listen to the shower being turned on, letting the sound of the falling water almost lull me back to sleep.
The moment the water turns off and the space is drowning in silence once more, my eyes fly open. It’s not until this moment that I realize why I can’t sleep. It’s too quiet in here.
Quinton is naked when he re-enters the room, with only a towel wrapped around his hips. I watch him go to one of the large drawers, pulling a pair of boxers from it before dropping the towel on the ground and trading it for underwear.
By the time he comes closer again, the sun has almost set, but the room is bright enough to let me notice how swollen and bruised Quinton’s knuckles are.
“What happened to your hands?” I ask as Quinton carefully climbs onto the bed. He settles onto the other side of the large mattress, leaving a good foot between us. I’m sure it’s because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt me, but truthfully, I’d rather have him closer than this.
“We went to Matteo’s family’s place tonight.” The name alone has my stomach churning. “But he wasn’t there. We’ll find him, though. Don’t worry about him; we’ll find him soon,” Quinton promises, and I have no doubt he’ll make good on it.
“If he wasn’t there, who did you beat up?” I ask, thinking about his knuckles.
“Matteo’s brother was there, Rico…”
“Get the door, Rico. We’re going to teach this bitch a fucking lesson. I was gonna fuck you alone, Aspen, but since you are being a cunt, I’m going to let my brother and uncle fuck you too.”
The memory hits me like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of me.
“Hey, you okay?” Quinton reaches out for my hand. His fingers engulf mine, and I let the warmth of his touch calm me.
“I-I think Rico was there when…” My throat clogs up, not letting me finish the sentence.
“I know he was,” Quinton confirms.
“Matteo’s uncle was there too.” “Rico is already dead, and his uncle will be soon as well.”
“You killed Rico?”
“Yes.”
Never in my life did I think I would be happy to hear of someone’s death, and maybe even now, happy is the wrong word. Relief might be more fitting. I’m relieved that he will never be able to touch me again or hurt anyone else.
“How long have I been here, and how did you find me? My memory is so fuzzy.”
“You left Corium four days ago. Lucas dropped you off at your place Friday morning, and Matteo sent me an address Friday night, saying you would be there. I went there right away and brought you here. You were pretty out of it the first forty-eight hours.”
“I still feel out of it, like I’m not myself.”
“You are still on a high dose of pain meds. It will get better.”
