Chapter 32
32
Juliette
“ I ’m okay,” I said again. Well, I mumbled the words as best as possible without moving my lips.
“Shh, don’t talk,” Dylan pleaded. “I can’t stand to see you in any more pain.”
I tried to give him a reassuring look, but I don’t think I succeeded because he continued to look tortured. I was okay. Mostly. The cuts on my neck and chest were mostly superficial, and while they hurt, there was no major damage done. The doctor closed most of them with glue and bandages, except for a few stitches on my sternum. They’d x-rayed my ankle, and it wasn’t broken, just sprained. It was elevated and wrapped, and they’d said I’d get a boot before going home. Dylan had been a stickler for icing it, but he caved last time when I said the ice hurt.
My mouth was the worst. The cut required internal stitches for the muscle as well as external stitches. It was swollen and it hurt. The drugs helped dull my pain, but not my fear. My mouth barely worked before. What if my speech was even worse after this?
My parents, Audrey, Jenna, and Nicky had taken turns visiting, and they’d told me that the waiting room was filled with the guys from Dylan’s fire house, the guys and girls from Station 7, and some police officers until the nurses had kicked everyone out. They’d attempted to kick Dylan out too but quickly gave up when he fiercely refused. Thank God. I’d slept a little on and off, and I’d already had a nightmare.
Without releasing my hand, Dylan pulled his chair closer to the bed, reclined, and propped his feet up at the foot of the bed. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. Go to sleep. If you need me, just squeeze my hand.”
Now that Dylan and I were finally alone, I had so many thoughts and emotions running through my mind, and I hated that I couldn’t tell him any of it. One of my favorite things about us was that it was always so easy to talk to him, and now I couldn’t say anything at all. I wanted to tell him everything that went through my mind when I was being held at knifepoint. I wanted to tell him that I was scared, but I tried to be brave. That I tried my best to talk to her and to avoid the knife, and even though I know my dyspraxia made me less effective, I never stopped trying. I wanted to tell him that I was thinking that, if I didn’t make it, I hoped he knew how much I loved him. I wanted to tell him that it still hurt, and I was still scared. But the doctor said to talk as little as possible to avoid opening or aggravating the stitches. The emotions trapped inside my mind leaked from my eyes instead.
“Juls, baby. Are you in pain? Should I call for the nurse?”
I shook my head slightly and the pull and sting in my neck made me immediately regret it. I couldn’t communicate at all without hurting myself more. It made me want to scream. Or sob. But I couldn’t do either.
“Love…you. Want…talk.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you are in pain, I’m sorry you were scared, I’m sorry you can’t talk now. I’m so, so sorry that it’s all because of me and my fucking psychotic ex-wife.”
“Not you.”
Dylan grunted his disagreement. “You’re going to be okay, baby. The plastic surgeon who stitched you up is the best in the city. He said it should all heal well with minimal scarring. Kayla is going to jail. She’ll never be able to hurt you again. You’ll be okay soon, baby.”
“S…” I couldn’t even come close to saying the word speech. “Talk.”
“You’re worried about talking? About your speech?”
I nodded and cried harder.
Dylan leaned over and gently wiped my tears. “You’re killing me, baby. And you’re moving your neck and mouth too much. The doctor said your mouth should heal fine with no lasting impact. I asked about that for you. It’s going to be okay. Can I please get the nurse to bring you meds? You need to sleep so you can heal.”
I gave a gentle nod, grateful that I did when I saw the relief in Dylan’s eyes.
Within minutes of the nurse administering the meds through my IV, my eyes closed and my body relaxed into the bed with a calm heaviness. I was still awake, though, so I heard everything as Dylan cried and begged for my forgiveness and prayed for me to make a full recovery.
I made a mental vow to do everything possible to help my healing, physically and mentally. For both myself and for Dylan.
I slept surprisingly well, barely even waking when the nurses checked me throughout the night. I didn’t wake up until I heard my mom and dad and Audrey whispering loudly. I opened my eyes and found Dylan exactly where he was when I fell asleep last night. He didn’t look like he had any intentions of moving, even though my mom was trying to squeeze in front of him.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Dylan said, brushing a kiss over my knuckles. “Are you okay?”
“Of course she’s not okay. Look at her. My poor baby, I can’t believe you were attacked,” my mom cried.
“She’s okay. Our girl’s a fighter, right sweetheart?” my dad said.
I nodded slightly at him, but I couldn’t hold back my tears at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes. My dad was the rock of the family. I was used to my mom’s emotions, but I couldn’t handle his.
My mom swiped dramatically at the tears on her cheeks. I slowly turned to face the other side of the bed.
“Hi,” I whispered carefully to Audrey.
She gave me a reassuring smile and squeezed my free hand, but she couldn’t hide the puffy eyes that meant she’d been crying too. I squeezed her hand back, wishing I could say something to make them feel better. I hated being so helpless.
“You’re doing great,” Audrey said. “Be patient with yourself, give yourself time to heal, and you’ll be good as new soon. You’re stronger than anything that bitch could do to you.”
I choked back a cry when my sister’s words almost forced an involuntary and very painful smile.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to make you smile. I’ll be annoying from now on so you don’t smile again.”
“Audrey,” Dylan warned.
“Sorry, I can’t help it!”
Dylan would soon learn that Audrey couldn’t help but be sweet, charming, and funny. It was just who she was, and I was as grateful as ever for it, even if it hurt. I didn’t want him to be upset with Audrey. The two of them were my best friends.
I turned back towards Dylan to reassure him, and laughed inside when I saw my mom standing half in front of him, clearly expecting him to move out of her way. Warmth filled me at the sight of him awkwardly reaching around her to keep his hold on my hand. There was nothing that would make him leave my side.
“Oh, look at your hair!” My mom cried out with even more despair than when she first saw me all carved up. “She hacked it all off. I couldn’t see how bad it was with the way you were laying yesterday. I’ll get you an appointment to fix it. Maybe with a shorter style, you’ll finally straighten it.”
“Nah, you’ll look great with short curls. It’ll be so bouncy and full,” Audrey said.
Dylan flashed her a look of gratitude, then looked at my mom, trying and failing to hide his anger. “Mrs. Smythe, Juliette needs to eat soft foods for the next few days. Soup, ice cream, pudding, purees. Would you mind going food shopping now and dropping it off at her apartment, so she has what she needs when we go home?”
“What if she needs me? No one can take care of her like her mom. You go and I’ll stay with her.”
Thank goodness my dad stepped in. “Honey, she needs your help with the food,” he said, then he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead and headed for the door.
“But I can clean her up, help her feel refreshed, like a human again,” my mom said like I wasn’t even there.
“Let’s go. You can pick out all her favorite foods, and you know what will be best for her to eat.”
She brightened and finally quit trying to claim the space in front of Dylan. “Of course! I’ll take care of everything you need. That’s what mothers are for!”
When they finally left after a long, teary goodbye, my dad winking at me as he guided my mom out, Dylan breathed out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“Told you,” I mumbled.
“You did tell me. I thought you had to be exaggerating, but you weren’t.” His smile faded into a frown. “I’m sorry if she upset you. I don’t give a fuck how your hair looks. I’m glad she cut it, because that was a moment when she wasn’t cutting somewhere worse.”
I nodded. I didn’t care about my hair either. It would grow back.
“I hate this. I want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. I love you so much, baby. I’m so proud of how strong you are. You’re doing amazing.”
I squeezed his hand in response, letting him know I felt the same way about him.
Jenna and Nicky visited next, and the afternoon passed by surprisingly quickly until I was released. Dylan was by my side the entire time, taking perfect care of me.
He drove me to my apartment where my mom, dad, and Audrey were in my kitchen, cooking and pureeing enough food to feed me for weeks. Dylan led me to the couch, propped my foot on a pillow, covered me with a blanket, and brought me a mug of warm chicken broth. He let them stay for a while, then tactfully hinted that I needed to rest.
Dylan was the perfect nurse and protector. He changed my bandages, held me through nightmares, and never let me feel bored or uncomfortable for depending on him.
“Dylan, please. I want to go out with you and our friends.” We were two days away from our plans to go out to the Sloppy Cow with his friends from Station 7, and I was still hopeful that we could go. Dylan was still a perfect nurse, except I didn’t need a nurse all the time anymore.
“What if someone bumps into you and hurts you?”
I wrapped my arms around him. “It’s been over a week and I’m fine. Besides, you won’t let anyone get close enough to bump into me.”
“Damn right.”
He feathered a kiss on the good corner of my mouth. I leaned into him, pressed my lips harder against his, chasing more, but he pulled away.
“Not yet, baby.”
“I’m okay. Please, I need you.” I’d missed his touch and kisses so much.
Indecision played across his face. I rubbed my body against his to try to persuade him. His hand on my hip tightened, and I felt him harden between us. I ran my hand over the ridge in his pants.
“Uh-uh. If we do anything, you’re going to just lay there while I do all the work.”
Yes! He was going to say yes.
“You have to keep the boot on. And you can’t scream. Or bite your lip.”
“Okay. I’ll be careful.”
“Two things first.” His eyes glimmered as he ran his hands up and down my sides. I saw lust there, as well as the satisfaction that he was about to get exactly what he wanted.
“What?” I was practically panting. I’d agree to almost anything he wanted.
“One, we put off going to the Sloppy Cow until you have more time to heal. Please, Juls?”
“Fine,” I agreed, my mood plummeting. “Two more weeks, then we go.” I knew he was just trying to take care of me, and I knew he wasn’t wrong. It hurt if I talked too much or stood for too long, and the boot threw me off balance more than usual. But I didn’t want to admit that. I didn’t even want to think about it.
Most of my cuts were getting better, but my ankle wasn’t, and now it was driving me crazy that one of my biggest injuries wasn’t directly from Kayla, but from my own clumsiness. And that reminded me too much of the day I’d cut my thumb and Dylan had gotten upset. He’d hit the nail on the head, bringing up deep-seated doubts, and I hated that it had come true.
I can’t deal with always worrying about you getting hurt… What if something happened to you? How could you protect yourself? How would you get away?
Dylan was too kind to say it, but what if he was thinking it too? So, besides the fact that I truly did want to see everyone, I also needed to go to the Sloppy Cow because I needed the normalcy. I needed to prove to myself and Dylan that I still could.
“Thank you. Ready for the second thing?” he asked, seemingly oblivious to the dark turn my thoughts had taken.
I nodded, forcing a small smile.
Dylan hugged me tight and kissed the tip of my nose. “Thank you,” he said again, his voice deep and soft, filled with sincerity. “You’ll like this one, baby.” He released me and walked into the kitchen. Maybe I underestimated him. He wasn’t oblivious to my feelings or my fake smile at all, was he?
He returned seconds later with something in his hand and so much joy on his face that I couldn’t resist my own excitement.
“What’s that?”
He opened his hand and my heart pounded, warmth radiating through my chest. “Is that… How?”
It was the stained-glass necklace he’d bought for me on the Riverwalk the day he told me he was falling in love with me. The day I’d known for sure that I was completely, irrevocably in love with him.
“The police found it under your car and Chief and Sophie took it back to the artist for a minor repair and a new chain.”
“Oh my God. I didn’t think I’d ever see this again. I’ve been so sad about it.”
“Hold your hair.” Dylan put it on gently while I held my hair out of the way. “I would have bought you a new necklace, but I’m happy to see this on you again.”
“Nothing could replace this.”
“Not even diamonds?”
I shook my head. “These memories are better than any diamonds or jewels.”
“I love you, Juliette.”
“I love you too, Dylan.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest. His lips grazed my neck before he whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry, Juls. Did I ruin the moment?”
I shook my head and pulled away just enough to see his face. Maybe he did a little, but it was back. I knew he was just trying to take care of me. And now, the way his eyes were shimmering with so much emotion, his fingers gently tracing my necklace and teasing my chest, the other hand possessively around my waist... There was no doubt that he loved me just as much as I loved him. Wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
I pushed away the last remnants of doubt. What he’d said about my clumsiness was true and fair, and I’d actually proven it to be accurate, so how could I fault him for saying it? It wasn’t his fault that I didn’t like it.
“So, those were the two things… and now we could…?”
“You promise you’ll lay there and do nothing?”
“I promise,” I said eagerly, the excitement building back up inside me.
“Liar,” he said with a smile as he gently picked me up and carried me to the bedroom.