30. Judd
CHAPTER THIRTY
judd
Amelia hasn’t uttered a word, other than giving the lady at the registration desk her information, since leaving the clinic. She’s been fidgeting in her seat, bouncing her leg up and down for the past ten minutes. “You doing okay, Shortcake?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ll be fine. It’s fine,” she says, sounding like she’s trying to convince herself.
I open my mouth to ask her if she wants anything to drink when a nurse comes through the door and calls her back. Her body freezes and her hand tightens around mine.
“Do you want me to go back with you?”
Amelia nods her head jerkily. I stand, gently tugging on her to follow me. The nurse leads us back to an empty area with a bed and medical equipment. It’s not really a room, just a space with two walls on either side and a curtain that can close to give the resemblance of some privacy.
“Go ahead and take a seat on the bed, honey. We’ll get your vitals and then have you change into a gown so we can see the extent of your injuries.”
Amelia climbs onto the bed, laying back. Her dark bruises look worse against the stark white sheet. I move to the opposite side from where the nurse is working, squeezing between the bed and equipment to be at Amelia’s side. She immediately takes my hand, gripping it tightly.
“150/94,” the nurse says, taking the blood pressure cuff off. “That’s pretty high. But from what I can see of your injuries so far, understandable.” The nurse’s eyes flick to me. “Sir, can you step outside for a few minutes? I have to ask her some questions and then she can change into a gown.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” I loosen my grip on Amelia’s hand while hers tightens.
“No, he, he can stay.”
“Are you sure, honey? It’ll only be for a few minutes.”
“He didn’t do this, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was attacked in the parking garage of my apartment complex.” Her raspy voice cracks. “My dog was st-stabbed. I was choked. Judd would never do that. He’d never do anything to hurt me.” She ends on a sob.
Her words wash over me, relief flooding my system that she knows I’d never do anything intentional to hurt her.
I run my free hand over her hair gently, bending over to look her in the eyes. “Shhh, Baby,” I croon. “It’s okay, I’m here now. You’re safe.”
Once Amelia’s sobs have subsided to a few shuddering breaths, the nurse hands her a gown and a plastic bag. She tells her to change into the gown and place her clothes in the bag and that the doctor should be in shortly.
After the nurse closes the curtain behind her, Amelia slowly maneuvers to the side of the bed, dangling her feet over. “Do you want me to step out?” I ask, because even though I’ve seen her naked several times, I’m not sure where I stand with her.
“No, please stay,” she whispers, reaching for the hem of her long-sleeved sweater, pulling it up halfway, before she winces in pain, muttering a “Fuck” under her breath.
“Here, let me help,” I tell her, reaching forward and helping her get her sweater off the rest of the way as gently as I possibly can. When she’s finally free, my blood boils at what was hidden by the piece of clothing.
“Jesus Christ, Amelia,” I whisper.
Tiny scrapes and cuts litter the front of her body and there’s a bruise on her shoulder that’s already turning a deep blue and black.
“It looks worse than it feels?”
“It looks like you were laid out by a linebacker on cement with no padding,” I deadpan.
“I’ve never experienced that, but it’s probably an accurate description,” she mutters, trying to pull down her thick, black leggings.
“Here, let me help.” Crouching down, I pull them past her hips. “Sit down and I’ll pull them off the rest of the way.”
Amelia eases herself down on the edge of the bed, letting me pull her leggings down. I try to be as careful as possible with her knees, but they’re pretty beat up and there are still little shards of glass in her skin. Her hisses of breath tell me they’re more painful than she was letting on.
I’m finally able to get the leggings off, leaving Amelia in just her bra and underwear.
“Why are hospitals always so cold?” she asks, rubbing her hands over her arms to get rid of the goosebumps that have appeared before slipping on the hospital gown that swallows her body.
“I read somewhere that bacteria thrive in warmer environments so they keep it on the colder side to slow down the growth and spread of it.”
The first smile I’ve seen cross her beautiful face appears, making my breath hitch. I could have lost her tonight. I could have lost her, and she never would have known how I feel about her. I’ve hinted and suggested, but never flat out told her I love her in fear she would run. That changes tonight. Not here, obviously. But when we get home. I’m laying everything out on the table.
I just hope she feels the same.