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“My baby!”Ma cries from the door. She’s followed by Mama Mallory, Juniper, and Daddy. They’re all teary-eyed and look utterly exhausted.
I must look surprised when all I feel is guilty for bringing this situation to them because Daddy says, “Trace told us you woke up. We were on our way back from the cafeteria.” That’s when I notice the white styrofoam containers in their hands. Daddy hands one to Benny, who accepts it gratefully.
Something about that makes the moment become so real and I lose it. My face is hurting, but I can’t contain the tears that rush from my eyes or the sobs that erupt from my chest. Benny deposits his food in the chair he was sitting in and nearly hops to my side. Ma drops all of her bags directly on the floor and meets my other side. She brushes the hair back from my bruised and swollen face while Benny squeezes my hand.
“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay. Are you in pain? Can I get you anything at all?” my mom asks. I whimper, trying to get words out but they’re just a blubbering mess. I can’t even make out what I’m trying to say, but at this moment, I’m terrified. Just terrified of everything. Finally, that’s all I can articulate. At least it’s something. “Oh, sweet girl. You’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to you, not here, and we are going to do everything to keep you safe when we get you out of here.” Dad grunts.
I give Ma what I hope is a smile that tells her how thankful I am for them while also hoping to hide that I don’t feel safe in the slightest.
CHAPTERTEN
LENNOX
The doctor has just walkedout along with Benny, who assures me that my family is on their way to see me. He had to leave for class after I insisted he go. I’m fine here in the hospital. Well, it doesn’t feel like that, but I’m forcing myself to believe that I am fine and nothing is going to happen to me while I’m here. In fact, I feel the safest I think I will when here. When I slip out of those sliding doors downstairs, I’m opening myself up for anything to happen. The thought has my muscles tightening in fear.
“I know, but Mr. Ford insisted I see you to your destination, then make my way back to my car. Please let me know when you are ready to leave and I will escort you back to the car,” Thompson, the man with two last names, insists. His name is Thompson Williams and we always tease him. He has a surname as his first name. He loves the teasing, says it makes him feel like family. As he should. The burly bear of a man has been my daddy’s driver and inherent security guard for as long as I’ve been alive.
The thought of someone going out of their way to watch over me—to follow me around—doesn’t sit well with me.
“Okay, okay,” Mama Mallory soothes. “Okay, we get it. Thank you, Thompson, for all that you’re doing for us.” It’s a placating statement, I can tell by her tone. She’s trying to keep everyone calm because my entire family is no doubt on edge, especially my dad. He’s been off since the attack, only saying necessary things to ask if I’m okay and to make sure I know he loves me. Other than that, he’s been incredibly distant and I hate it.
I’ll admit, there have been times in my life when I’ve dealt with hecklers that I’ve wanted my parents to feel guilty for their relationship, but the wish is fleeting because why on earth would I wish that upon them? Should we punish them for falling in love? You can’t help what the heart wants. Despite Daddy being a little absent in my life because of his career, my parents have always been the best parents a girl could ask for. Sure, it isn’t easy, but they don’t deserve to feel guilty, especially when I’m the pig-headed one who refuses to use a driver or a guard.
Moments later, my moms swoop in, clucking like mother hens.
“Lenny,” Ma coos as she makes her way across the room to my bedside. She bends over me and kisses my forehead. A second later, Mama Mallory is shoving her out of the way and replacing her lips with her own. I sigh, content, but a ball of emotion gets stuck in my throat. I didn’t realize how much I needed my moms right now. Ma notices and wraps me in her arms, careful of my ribs.
“We’re busting you out of here, sweetheart,” she murmurs, voice muffled from our hug.
“I think I’d like that,” I lie. In reality, I don’t want to leave this place. It’s a fortress, and having Thompson waiting for us is a reminder that I’m not safe. Mama Mallory curls a lock of her honey colored hair behind her ear as she smiles down at me with sympathy.
“How are you feeling?” she asks as Juniper shuffles into the room with a sour look on her face and a small designer duffle made of black leather slung over her shoulder.
“The nursing staff is way too attractive here,” Junie gripes, earning a laugh from the three of us.
“Attractive people are a good thing,” I say.
“Not in hospitals! Not when they’re going to see all my goodies, washing me and watching me go to the bathroom and shit. Cleaning wounds or holding a pan while I vomit. Not to mention the days of possibly not showering,” she explains, then she adds, “Pooping in a bedpan!”
“Where did you come up with all that?” Mama Mallory chuckles at her ridiculous daughter.
“Mama, those are things that happen in a hospital! It’s just one of those places and you can’t tell me you haven’t placed yourself in scenarios. What if I got something stuck in an absurd place and the hunk of man meat out there with the tattoos and blue eyes was the one who had to assist the doctor in getting it out? I’d much rather have a crotchety old lady helping him than die of mortification—” Mama Mallory holds up her hand to stop my sister’s story.
“Okay, okay, Juniper, we get the picture.”
“Well, I mean you asked.” Junie allows the bag to slide off her shoulder and land in the chair that rests beside her.
“I have to agree with Junie. It is sort of mortifying when someone as handsome as him has to come in and help me to the bathroom, or empty the bedpan when it’s too difficult for me to get out of the bed. Although he is very respectful and often has a female nurse come in when I need help to get to the bathroom.”
“Point made. Wouldn’t it be easier if it were some uggo rather than all these pretty people?”
“Juniper!” Ma scoffs, sending us into laughter.
“Anyway, how are you doing?” Mama Mallory asks again. Ma walks around the room, tidying up and placing all my belongings in another bag she’s brought. I guess I really am getting out of here.
“I’m good.” It’s not a total lie. I’m better now that they’re here, but I’m not sure I’m ready to leave this place. However, I won’t worry them with that.
The nurse comes in one last time to go over my discharge papers and to load me into a wheelchair. Not long after that, an orderly, and Thompson, escorts us down to the car. They help me in, tucking me into the corner of the seat. I hug a pillow tightly to my front, wishing I could lie back down. The pain in my ribs is strong despite the meds they’ve given me and all this movement isn’t helping.
