Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aaron
"Ma!" I did the one thing my years of training in the Marines taught me not to do. I rushed into a situation yelling. "Ma? Panther? Where are you?" I hollered for the man Wes assigned to guard my mother.
"Back here!" a gruff voice yelled back from deeper inside the house. I followed until I found Wes' guy and my mother in the sunroom off the kitchen.
"What the hell happened?" I rushed over to where my mother sat on the outdoor sofa with a rag placed on her right temple.
"The som bitch got the drop on me, that's what happened." I gasped at my mother cussing. Normally she was way too polite for that sort of thing. "Oh, don't look at me like that. A man breaks into my house and knocks me upside the head, you better believe I'm going to cuss about it."
"And you have every right, Ms. Hill," Valerie—who I didn't realize followed me this far into the house—said with conviction.
I looked at Panther expectantly and waited for him to explain.
"Your mother was in the kitchen baking zucchini bread.
I stepped out for a minute to use the bathroom but obviously it was just enough time for someone to break in through the back here.
He ran away when he realized I was here.
I started to go after him until I saw your mother bleeding. "
"I told him I was fine and he should've gone after the guy but he insisted on sitting with me and setting off the bat signal."
I shook my head. "By bat signal you mean the alarm that lets me know something is wrong with you?"
I had Nolen outfit my mother and her house with an alarm similar to a medical alarm, but instead of just calling nine one one, it also alerted me that she was in need. Speaking of . . .
"Willow Creek Police Department, we got a call for an alarm going off?"
One glance at Panther was enough silent communication for him to know what I was asking. "I'll go talk to them."
"Can you have them send the paramedics back when they get here?"
Panther nodded his head before leaving the room.
"Son, I don't need a paramedic."
"This isn't up for negotiation, Ma. You're going to the hospital to get checked out." I pulled the towel away from her face and got my first look at what the intruder did and gasped. "You have a goose egg forming on your temple. What the hell did he hit you with?"
"His fist," she hissed. "The damn coward."
I had so many words I wanted to say but nothing came out. Thankfully Ryan, the paramedic, chose that moment to enter the room.
"Hey, Ms. Hill." Ryan walked over with his usually upbeat attitude. "Ooooh, looks like you got a little bump there. Care to tell me how you got it?"
I listened as my mother described how the intruder hit her with a closed fist and I was forced—for her sake—to keep my emotions in check.
"I really don't think a hospital visit is necessary." My mother's words pulled me out of the downward spiral my thoughts were trying to take me to, but before I could argue that she in fact did need to go to the hospital, Ryan interjected.
"I'm going to have to disagree with you, Ms. Hill, and insist that I take you." He was sweet about it but forceful at the same time. "You're showing signs of a concussion."
"Ma, you need to let them take you and get checked out.
" Worry laced my tone and had me on high alert, so when a hand came down gently on my shoulder, I nearly jumped.
I didn't have to look back to know who the hand belonged to.
The jolt of electricity that shot through me was enough to know it was Valerie.
"Oh, alright," my mother huffed, not the least bit happy that she was being ganged up on. "I'll go but only to prove that I'm fine."
I hovered as they loaded her onto the stretcher and rolled her out to the ambulance.
Since it was his responsibility, Panther insisted he ride with her while I followed behind.
The only reason I didn't argue was because the hospital was only ten minutes outside of town and there wasn't enough traffic for me to lose sight of the ambulance.
"She's going to be okay." It was the only thing Valerie said the entire time during the drive.
When we got to the hospital, we were shown to a private waiting room while they got my mother comfortable in one of the emergency room beds.
Time passed slowly but all the while Valerie stayed by my side offering me comforting words.
She didn't stray from my side except to use the bathroom and even then she understood when I insisted on standing right outside the door.
It was like she knew that I needed to control something in my life, and at the moment, the only thing I could control was her safety.
Just when I was about to lose all sense of patience, a nurse called my name and informed me that I could go back and see Ma.
A huge smile broke out on my mother's face when I walked into the room. "You look worse for wear than I do, son."
I laughed at her attempt to lighten the mood. "Worrying will do that to a person, Ma. What did the doctor say?"
I could see her trying to come up with a lie but the nurse cut her off. "A mild concussion. She needs to take it easy for the next few days and someone needs to monitor her tonight but otherwise she'll be fine."
"See?" Ma gloated. "I'm fine."
I groaned at her lack of disregard for her safety. "She also said you have a mild concussion. I'll be spending tonight at your house."
"Oh, no you certainly won't," Mother argued. "I agreed to letting one of your friends stay with me because you believed there was a threat to my life, but I'll be damned if you think I want you and a bunch of people hovering around the house."
"Pretty sure what happened today proves the threat is real."
My mother didn't back down. If anything, her spine snapped straighter. "And that's why I'm not going to argue about Panther spending the night."
I gasped. "You would rather a complete stranger stay with you over your own son?"
"And what about Valerie?"
"There are plenty of rooms at your house for the both of us."
That was clearly not the right thing to say. "Aaron Matthew Hill," my mother chided me. "You didn't even ask her opinion before answering. I know I raised you better than that."
I sheepishly looked over my shoulder at Valerie. I felt like a kid again rather than the fifty-two-year-old I was. "Do you mind if we spend the night at Ma's house so we can watch her for any symptoms?"
"Sure." She smiled sweetly at my mother. "Whatever you both need."
"No." Mother had the nerve to respond with the one word.
"What do you mean, no?" Was this really the argument we were having right now? How was this my life? Stubborn women everywhere.
"To answer your original question, yes, I would rather Panther stay with me than you. At least he won't hover and drive me to drink."
"You can't drink with a concussion!"
All the more reason for me to spend the one night. It was clear she needed someone to make sure she didn't make an irrational decision. I couldn't be sure that Panther wouldn't be a total pushover.
"It was a figure of speech, son." My mother rolled her eyes at me. "I know I can't drink, but if you're there watching my every step, then there's a good chance that's what I'm going to want to do."
I couldn't believe what she was saying. Actually, I was completely flabbergasted and speechless, if I was being honest.