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The drive to the hospital takes about twenty minutes, which is more time than I'm comfortable with. It's not that it's a long drive, but I'm bleeding all over Ryan's nice, clean interior, and he can't afford that kind of damage. We don't say anything, Ryan white-knuckling the steering wheel, and I'm surprised when he actually parks the car.
"You can just drop me off," I start, but he shakes his head.
"Sophia, I'm sorry, but I just watched you almost get mugged. I'm not letting you out of my sight until I know you're okay."
And I should be mad about his demanding stance—I should be frustrated that he's treating me like I can't take care of myself—but if I'm being honest with myself, I kind of like that he's being bossy.
We make our way into the emergency room, and the fluorescent lights immediately make me squint. Ryan takes charge, talking to the receptionist and explaining my situation while I sit down on a plastic chair, still holding my purse and the knife in my lap. I feel ridiculous, like a character out of some bad action movie, but the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, and I can't shake the attack off.
"Miss Parker?" a nurse calls out, and I stand up, feeling my arm throb. Ryan is right by my side, and I catch him staring at me with a worried expression.
"You'll be okay," he says softly, and I nod, trying to believe him. "But... you'll have to give the knife over."
"Oh," I say. "Right. Um...save it for evidence, I guess?"
A cop comes over with the nurse and gingerly takes the knife from me to put the weapon in an evidence bag. "We'll come talk to you after you're stitched up," he says. "Do you want to press charges?"
"I don't even know who did this," I say.
"Got it," the cop replies, nodding.
The nurse motions for me to follow, and I give Ryan a glance before trailing after her. She takes me through triage and over to a cot, where she has me sit down. I peel off my coat, wincing when I see just how nasty the knife wound is.
"Jesus," Ryan mutters. "Do you want me to call anyone?"
"There's no one to call," I say, shaking my head. It's true…I have a lot of friends, but no family, no boyfriend...nothing. "I'm good. You can seriously go..."
"I don't want you to be alone," he interrupts. "Unless you want me to go."
The nurse gives us a weird look. "Well...I'm going to stitch you up now, so you might want a hand to hold."
I gulp and reach out to take Ryan's offered hand, his fingers wrapping around mine. His hand is huge, swallowing mine up, warm and dry.
"I've got you," Ryan says.
I look at him rather than the nurse as she gets to stitching me up, breathing deeply the whole way through. It hurts, but it's over soon enough, and I thank the nurse before she leaves me alone with Ryan.
"How do you feel?" he asks me.
"Okay," I say. "Honestly. I'm not...I mean, I'm not okay, but I'm not hurt. I think I can stand to look at the wound."
"Let me see," Ryan says, taking my hand and looking at the stitches as I avert my eyes. "Oof—it's ugly, but not too bad. You don't have to look."
"It's my arm," I say. "A little bit of blood isn't going to bother me."
"Sophia..."
"It's fine," I say, then I take a glimpse, and my stomach churns. "Okay...maybe that wasn't a good idea."
The nurse returns a moment later with the cop, and they take my report. He asks me if I'm going to press charges, and I really don't know what to say. I want to, but what's the point? I don't know the mugger's name, and I don't have a clear face-to-face description. I'm the one with the knife wound, but it's not like I can do the same to him.
"I don't think pressing charges will do much good," I say. "I just want to be left alone."
"Okay, well, if you change your mind, just let us know," the cop says, scribbling something down in his notebook. "I will take the knife in as evidence, though, just in case. See if anything comes up. You're free to go."
"Thank you," I say to him. I stand up, wincing at the sudden movement and biting my lip. Ryan puts his arm around my waist, and I lean on him, grateful for his support.
"Ryan—"
