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“I know, it feels like forever since I’ve been here. Working two jobs and kids doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to take pictures.” I say and she gives me a sad smile.
“You’re so talented. I wish you could invest more time into taking photos.”
She’s been saying that to me for years, that I could make a living out of taking pictures, which is something I would love but it’s just not realistic right now.
“Maybe once I get Genevieve off to college, I’ll have more time, but I did take a lot of photos over the holidays that I’m excited to see.” I hand over my three memory cards and she promises to have them done by the middle of the week. Exiting the shop, I check my to do list on my phone. I need to go get groceries. Cutting across the street, I duck down the alleyway between Brew You and the flower shop, Blooms. I round the back of the flower shop and collide with a body.
“Oof,” I grunt and begin to apologize to whoever I ran into, but when I look up, I’m staring into the eyes of Hank Weller. His hand shoots out and wraps around my throat, slamming me back against the wall. My head cracks against the brick and I cry out, seeing stars.
“You fucking bitch,” he sneers, stepping into my space and getting right in my face, his fist still squeezing my throat. I’m trying to get air, but I can’t, the force of his hand crushing my air way. “Call off your fucking cop buddies.” He releases my throat and rears his hand back, punching me in the face. The force has my head bouncing off the brick wall again and my lip splits open.
“Help!” I scream as his fist connects with my face again, this punch so intense that I drop to the ground on my hands and knees. He reaches down and grabs a fist full of my hair before his boot collides with my stomach.
“That’s your one warning, bitch. Next time, it will be one of your kids.” He spits on me and I hear his footfalls as he walks away. I’m not sure how long I lay there unable to move from the assault, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“Oh my god,” I faintly hear in the distance. “Indigo, call 911! Pixie, wake up.”
“Guuh,” I groan as Leaf rolls me over and he gasps when he sees my face.
“Oh my god, Avery.” I hear rustling and then, “Jaxson, it’s Leaf. I don’t know what happened, but Avery is behind the shop. It looks like she was jumped. Indigo called 911, I can hear the sirens now. Yeah. Okay.” He hangs up what has to be my cell phone and runs his hand over my forehead. “Hang on for me, Pixie. Hang on.”
That’s the last thing I hear before everything goes dark.
****
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The steady sound of beeping off in the distance is the first thing I hear as I start to regain consciousness. Hushed voices way off in the distance have me straining to hear who is talking. Blinking my eyes open, my surroundings start to come into focus. White walls, bright lights, beeping. It looks like I’m in a hospital. I roll my head and look to the left, seeing all the wires I’m hooked up to and the IV running into my arm.
“Oh my god,” I rasp out and there’s a commotion from the other end of the room.
“Ace, fuck baby,” Jaxson’s face comes into view and he presses the call button on the wall.
I try to recall the last thing I remember. I dropped Blake off with Lex and went to the print shop. Walking down the alley beside Brew You. Shit, my stomach rolls and the urge to vomit overwhelms me just as a nurse comes into the room, gently shoving Jax out of the way and handing me a barf bag. Once I’ve emptied my stomach, she takes the bag and checks my vitals as Jaxson holds my hand.
“How is our girl feeling?” The nurse asks cheerily.
“Awful,” I say, my throat still raspy and dry. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. What happened?” Jax furrows his brow at my question.
“You don’t remember?”
“Like I told you yesterday, hubby, she took two really good blows to the back of her head. She has a concussion. Concussions can cause memory loss.”
“Hubby?” I ask and the nurse gives me a cheery smile.
“Yes dear, your husband. He’s been here for days worried sick about you.”
“Days?” I whisper and Jax pats my hand.
“Two days, Ace. Sunday was two days ago.” My god, I can’t believe I’ve been out of it for this long.
“The kids,” I proclaim as I try to sit up, but nausea hits me again.
“Ah, ah, ah. Moving quickly like that is just going to make things worse. Relax.” The nurse says as she injects something into my IV. “This will help with the nausea,” she says, “and this will help with the pain.” My arm tingles where the IV line is, and Jaxson pulls my attention towards him.
“The kids are fine, Ace. They’re with my mom.” Jaxson’s voice sounds muffled as the medicine starts to take over. All that matters is that my kids are safe, is the last thought I have before I drift back off to sleep.
Jaxson
