11. Warren ‘Wolf’ Bennett #2
From where I was sitting, I took notice of the way she frantically looked around. I’m sure she was confused. It was confirmed through her vitals that she’d passed out behind the wheel, so she probably was wondering how she got to the hospital.
“Hi, Deja. I’m your nurse. My name is Monica. How are you feeling?” the nurse asked Deja.
She took a while to answer her question.
That’s because she glanced over at me, and I’m sure she was wondering if she was seeing things.
She attempted to pick up her left hand, so that she could rub her eye, but once she felt the swelling, she winced from the pain and lowered her hand down.
Because of the swelling, her vision wasn’t the best, so I watched her as she squinted her eyes, trying to make sure that it was me for real.
Once she was sure that it was me, I saw the way her body relaxed a little bit.
“My head hurts. Everything on my face hurts too,” she announced.
“We gave you something for the pain. Are you confused? Do you know where you are right now?” the nurse asked the same thing that I wanted to know.
The bruises that she had all over her face, you could tell she took multiple jabs to the head, so I was even wondering how her memory was.
“I’m at the hospital, but I don’t remember how I got here,” she announced, and nurse Monica nodded.
“Mr. Bennett over there brought you to the hospital. That’s how you got here,” nurse Monica said.
Deja didn’t say anything else in response to that. She just continued to lay there in bed, and she told the nurse again that her head was hurting. Nurse Monica let Deja know that she would come back with more medication, and after that, she left the room, leaving just the two of us inside.
Now that it was just us two, I stood up from the chair and went for Deja’s right side of the bed.
Seeing her pretty face battered and bruised up like this made me so fuckin angry.
I knew that these weren’t bruises that a bitch left on her.
I felt like a nigga did this shit to her.
I wasn’t going to be in the dark much longer because I cleared my throat, getting ready to ask her what happened.
“Who did this shit to you?” I wanted to know.
“How did you get me here to the hospital? The last thing I remember is driving home. I pulled over because my vision was blurry and my head started killing me. How did you get me here? What? You put a tracker under my car? How the fuck did you get me here to the hospital?” her voice rose a little bit.
She looked so angry, hurt, and confused as she looked up at me. Through her black eyes that were swollen, big tear drops started falling down her face.
“Why the fuck would I put a tracker under your car? And stop fuckin yelling because two detectives already walked in this bitch, and I felt like they were trying to pin this shit on me. I’m not your fuckin enemy, love.
I’m the nigga that got you here safely, and I haven’t fuckin left your side since you got here!
” I said back to her in a harsh whisper.
It was that same look in her eyes that I’ve seen before. The one where you could tell she wanted to believe me. She wanted to take my word but was having a hard time doing so.
“How though? You just magically appeared? You just knew where the hell I was? How?” she asked.
“I saw a car that looked like yours pulled over on the side of the road. I’m coming from dinner.
I took a chance and pulled my car over behind you.
I was knocking on the window, but you wouldn’t open the door.
I had to break your passenger side window.
Once I saw it was you, I brought you here.
That’s what happened,” I explained to her.
“Where’s my car?” she wanted to know.
“I had my brother come and pick it up. It’s parked in the parking garage where I live. Can you answer the question that I asked you? Who did this shit to you?” I wanted to know.
When she turned her head and looked away from me, I knew that she didn’t trust me, and that she was protecting whoever had done this to her. I was going to go ahead and take a wild guess then.
“Hitta did this to you?” I asked, and she didn’t answer me. Her silence was loud as hell though.
“So, you going to cover, and protect that nigga? He got you laying in this fuckin hospital with black eyes that you can hardly see out of. When I bust your window open and saw you inside, I didn’t even think it was you at first because of the amount of damage done to your face.
I hope you don’t think for a second that he loves you.
If a nigga loved you, they wouldn’t have it in them to even shove you, let alone beat your face in the way that he did you,” I shot.
“I never told you that I thought he fuckin loved me!” she screamed at me.
I nodded my head, leaving it alone after that.
She already had a lot of shit going on, and I didn’t want to piss her off even more.
I never sat down though. I continued to stand next to her, looking down at her, watching her as she was trying to get herself together.
I wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed, but she wouldn’t look at me.
She kept her head down, and by the time she finished crying, nurse Monica came back in the room with the medication.
She had a cup for Deja, that she held up to her lips, after she put the pills in her mouth.
Once she finished swallowing the pills, she laid her head back down on the pillow.
After that, nurse Monica left out again, leaving just the two of us in the room by ourselves again.
I didn’t want to get her overworked again, so I sat down, leaving her alone.
I sat here, watching her intensely for over an hour.
The doctor came back in the room eventually, so that he could talk with Deja.
Her answers that she was giving him were very short, dry, and dull.
You could tell that she didn’t want to be bothered.
You could also tell that the meds were still in her system because she could hardly keep her eyes open.
They didn’t see a reason to keep her here, especially since there wasn’t any major problems with her.
After the doctor wrote up the prescription for her, she was finally discharged.
She asked the nurse if she would help her back into her clothes, and wanting to give her some privacy, I stepped over to the front, where the door was located, so I wouldn’t be able to see her.
Once she was dressed, the nurse came wheeling Deja over.
It was hospital policy for the patients to leave out in the wheelchair, so that’s why they did that.
I led the way over to the elevators, pressed the button, and allowed nurse Monica to wheel Deja in first. I stepped on afterwards, and we took the elevator down in silence.
Once we made it outside, luckily, my car was parked out front, so the nurse was able to wheel Deja over.
I wanted to be the one to assist her with getting in the car, but I stood back, allowing the nurse to do her job.
Once Deja was in, she closed the door and then turned to look at me.
“Take care of her, please,” she assured me.
“I’m on it,” was all I said, and then I thanked her for everything that she did for Deja.
I went ahead, and got in the driver’s seat, started the car up, and pulled off.
“The pharmacy is closed. I’ll grab the prescription in the morning for you. You think you’ll be cool with the medication that they gave you tonight?” I asked her, once I was out of the parking lot, and onto the main road.
She had her body leaned against the door, and you could tell that she was going to fall asleep in the chair.
“I’ll be fine. You going to take me to get my car?” she asked me.
“You not driving your car back home. You doped up on medication right now. The doctor told you that you can’t drive with that shit in your system,” I let her know.
“You said that you busted my passenger window out. Somebody going to take my shit out of my car,” she was good and high from the medication because as she spoke to me, her words were coming out a little slurred.
“It wasn’t shit in your car worth taking. I made sure that I took your purse out. Plus, your car is parked in the parking garage where I live. Nobody going to fuck with your shit over there,” I shot. She didn’t say anything else after that. She ended up falling asleep.
About twenty minutes later, I pulled up to my place of residence.
I stayed out in Brickell. I fucked with the vibes out here.
I’ve been living out here on this side of town for about six years now.
I liked the luxury that came with living out here.
Private resident garages, valet, 24/7 security, just all the things that a nigga that made the kind of money that I did was going to need.
The garage that I pulled into was a private underground resident garage. I used the key fob that was resting in the cupholder, tapping it on the screen, and soon after, the gate lifted. Now that I was granted entry, I drove down to a secured section that was reserved just for the residents.
I lived in a two-story penthouse condo, so I got specialty parking.
My spot was a private parking space, which was closest to the residents elevator.
I backed my car into the parking spot, and you would think that when I shut the car off, that Deja would have awakened from her sleep. She didn’t even stir.