Chapter 5 #2
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I told Cash. I was feeling nauseous.
He stepped out of my way and held out his hand to help steady me while I grunted and hissed my way out of the hospital bed and over to the door of the restroom. I hustled inside, not bothering to close the door.
I barely made it to the sink before I began heaving. A sharp cry echoed in the small room as my abdominal muscles tightened around my rib cage. Gripping the sink, trying not to faint, I sucked in air while a sweat broke out all over me. Within just moments, I was damp all over.
A knock behind me alerted me just before a nurse put his hand on my shoulder. “Easy, easy,” he said gently. I heaved again, repeating the same sharp cry. The pain was acute; it felt like being stabbed.
My head hung low over the sink, and for several terrible seconds, I simply panted for air, trying desperately to push past the pain so that I could find a place of calm.
“You’re okay,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”
I began to tremble. Got you. I’d heard that before. I’d heard that before when I’d been terrified and in excruciating pain.
There were no more details other than a certainty that someone had held me captive. That I’d been tortured. That I’d been violated. Again and again.
I began to sink down to the floor, with the nurse easing me there. I curled up over my knees, laying my forehead down on the cool ceramic floor.
“Should I get the doctor?” Cash asked from somewhere nearby.
I took a shuddering breath, then another, shivering and sweating at the same time. This was a panic attack. I knew how my body was reacting but not why it was reacting.
“Not yet. I think she’s breathing better,” the nurse said. “Are you going to be sick again?” he asked me.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the will. I just remained there, folded over myself, waiting for my racing heart to calm down and my breathing to normalize.
It took a while, but finally, I stopped sweating, although I continued shivering, but I felt my breathing coming more evenly, and my heart rate chilled out.
The nurse left my side, departing the bathroom, and then someone else knelt next to me. “He’s getting you a blanket,” Cash said.
I managed a weak nod. My teeth were chattering, and I felt so cold.
“I’m sorry, Maddy,” he said. “I didn’t know I was going to get you so upset.”
“Me either.”
He put a hand on my back. “You’re safe here,” he said. “I promise. No one’s gonna get to you on my watch.”
Movement at the door told me that the nurse was back. Cash got up, and a moment later, a heated blanket was placed over my back, the warmth seeping into me almost immediately.
“How we doing, Jane?” the nurse asked.
“Maddy,” I replied weakly.
“Hmm?”
“She wants to be called Maddy,” Cash said.
The nurse laid an arm across my shoulders. “Sorry, my bad. You feel ready to stand?”
I nodded.
With his help, I stood, only to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The person staring back at me was a complete stranger. Long, scraggly brown hair, hollow cheeks, a raised bumpy scar running at the side of my left temple, chapped lips, haunted blue eyes, and skin so pale, I looked ghostly.
Nothing about my reflection seemed like it belonged to me. I turned away quickly. I didn’t want to look at that stranger in the mirror even one second longer.
The nurse took one side of me and Cash took the other, and together they got me back into bed with only a modicum of pain.
“Thanks,” I told them, hugging the blanket and continuing to shiver despite its warmth.
The nurse, a short-statured man with apple cheeks, dark hair, a widow’s peak, and kind eyes, said, “I’m gonna have Dr. Phelps prescribe you some Xanax. It’ll help you feel calm.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. I don’t need anything to make me feel calm. And I don’t want any more painkillers either.”
The nurse and the sheriff exchanged a doubtful look.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Really. I just…I didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one hurt.” I lifted my gaze to Cash, and he nodded solemnly.
“I gotta let you know some hard truths, Maddy. It’s the only way I can investigate what happened to you.”
“Sure. Yeah. I know. I just…it…caught me off guard.”
“I’ll give you fair warning next time, okay? Maybe preempt what I need to tell you with a ‘This might upset you.’”
I shook my head. “No. You don’t need to. It’s…I heard what doctors said about my condition when I was brought in, and that really shook me up. I hadn’t realize how bad off I’d been.”
The nurse, whose name tag I could now read, said, “I was there when you were wheeled in. None of us thought you were going to make it, but you pulled through. You’re a fighter, Jane—I mean, Maddy.”
“Thanks, Dixon. And thank you for getting me off that bathroom floor.”
He smiled, and I noticed that he was really quite handsome when he smiled. “They frown on us leaving patients on the floor, so we gotta do some heavy lifting every once in a while. Not that you’re heavy. I could probably lift you with one hand.”
I returned his smile and looked down at my bony arms. “Best part about being underweight are the burger and fries awaiting my gaping maw, eh?”
Dixon and Cash both laughed. Then Dixon said, “If you don’t want a Xanax, how about something to help you sleep? You’re due to be discharged today, but we can wait until later this afternoon or early evening to do it.”
“Nah. Thanks, though. I don’t want to sleep. Or to stay here any longer than I have to. You guys take great care of your patients, but your pillows are lousy.”
He grinned. “I’ll pass along the feedback. How’s your stomach? Need anything for nausea?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I just need to warm up a bit.”
He nodded before heading out the door and calling over his shoulder, “Push the call button if you need me. I’m just down the hall.”
Once he’d left, I eyed Cash, who was looking quite guilty. “Sorry again, Maddy.”
“It’s really okay, Cash. You were gonna tell me eventually.”
“Anything about what I told you jar a memory?”
“No. But . . .”
“But what?”
“When I was on the floor in the bathroom, Dixon said, ‘I got you,’ and I felt like someone had told me that before, but not in a good way.”
“Then, what kind of way?”
“Like, an evil ‘Got you!’ kind of way.”
Cash nodded, but then he changed the subject, probably out of fear I’d have another panic attack. “I talked to Wanda yesterday—”
“Wanda?” He’d said that like I should know who that was.
“Sorry, Wanda Bigelow. She owns Wanda’s Diner here in town.”
“Ahh, yeah, I remember. Wanda who’s married to Poor Hank.”
Cash pointed a finger gun and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “She’s got an apartment above the diner. She used to live there, but now that she’s married to Hank, it’s sitting empty.
“There’s not much to it, but it’s got a bed, a sofa, and a bathroom with a shower.”
“Sounds delightful,” I said, being careful to remove any hint of sarcasm from my voice.
“She says you can stay there rent-free as long as you’re willing to put in some time at the diner. The waitress who’s been working there for the past six years just quit, and Wanda could sure use the help. She can’t put you on the payroll because you don’t have a Social Security number,
but she said you could keep whatever tips you earn.”
“I’ll take it,” I said quickly. A free place to stay and a job? Sign me up!
Cash grinned. I could tell he was happy to have played broker in the deal.
I looked down at myself and asked, “Did anyone wash my clothes? I don’t want to put them on if they’re caked in blood.”