Not a tame lion #3
Benson raised their hands in supplication. “No, no, nothing like that. I wanted to say something at the event, but it was too crowded. When I heard you’d been abducted, I was afraid I might never get another chance to apologize. So, here I am, apologizing.”
“They seem pretty sincere,” I prodded, “and without Matilda, we might not have found you. You wanted to be on good terms with more exes, right?”
“Who the fuck is Matilda?”
I pointed at the dog.
Rafael rested his head against his arm. He finally nodded, exhaling through his nose, and extended his hand for Matilda to sniff. “I am from the city of cats, but I appreciate your help, madam.”
She whuffed and licked him. Rafael winced, wiping the saliva on his pants. Definitely a cat person.
He looked at Benson. “I…was not kind to you either. Fine, I accept your truce, so long as whatever this is,” he waggled a finger from Benson to Deandra, “does not have negative consequences for Elaine.”
“Now we just busted you out.” Deandra scowled at him. “Can’t you go a single second without calling my shit out?”
Detective Corey coughed to get our attention. “Mr. Nazim, we need your statement.”
He glared at the battered security force.
More than one man flinched. “Molly Lively and her weaselly little chicken dick are the main ones I will be pressing charges against.” He gave her a detailed account of how he’d been held and transported against his will and turned over his phone for more presumed proof.
Each member of the search party came over to give a statement as well. I took my time, trying to remember as much as possible. Probably more than they’d ever need.
After much prodding and protests from the crowd, the police finally cuffed Molly and Tech Bro, whose name really was Chad—Chad Kingsley, because of course it was.
One of the more experienced hikers in the group showed us an easier route to get back to the car. The medics warily offered to haul Rafael out on a litter, to which he laughed in their faces. He did, however, walk much slower than usual, and leaned on me a good bit.
I squeezed his arm. “Look how many people care about you.”
“Look how many people want to gossip about me,” he grumbled.
Mandeep sighed loudly. “Speaking of people who refuse to learn. We’re here because we want to help, you stubborn old queen. I thought for sure you’d gotten yourself killed.” He blinked rapidly, tears shining in his dark eyes. “You’d better let Kathy know you’re ok.”
I would have hugged Mandeep, but I didn’t want to let go of my man for even an instant.
Rafael groaned. “At least let me fucking sleep first.”
Mandeep blocked his path. “Rafa, she was crying when she called me. Kathy doesn’t cry.”
That sobered him. I pressed my phone into his hand, and Rafael called Kathy. As soon as she heard his voice, she was yelling—no speakerphone needed. He held the phone away from his ear until she quieted.
“Yes, I am alive. Yes, Molly has been arrested. I will tell you the whole story later. If you talk to Richard, tell him to keep the fucking press off my back.” He hung up on her mid-bellow and paused to rest.
Deandra tapped his arm. “Hospital. Now. I’m sure you’ve had at least a concussion. You could have internal bleeding or fractures.”
“Oh, my ribs are fucked and at least two fingers on my right hand are broken, but I can breathe just fine.” Rafael took hold of his nose and wrenched it with a sickening crack! I cringed and looked away as he cleared the blood clots. “I just need sleep.”
“Not with a concussion,” Dee planted herself in his path. “Laney, tell him.”
I summoned the sad puppy eyes again. His poor hand!
Rafael groaned. “Fine, but I am not taking an ambulance.” He raised a palm to Mandeep, who was already fishing his keys out of his carryall. “Manny, absolutely not. Enough fussing. Thank you. Go home.”
“I’ll drive,” Deandra volunteered.
Rafael surrendered. I cursed the Escalade’s ample legroom for making it hard to keep my hands on him from the back seat.
Dee started the car, watching Rafael in the rearview. “What was Bitch Barbie talking about? You hit her?”
Rafael drew a hand over his face. “While we were dating, Molly sexually assaulted me. I was triggered, and threw her off me a little too hard. She hit the wall and landed badly, ending up in the hospital. She has had it out for me ever since.”
“Fuck, dude. I’m sorry.”
He stared out the window for the rest of the ride.
It turned out being rich had its perks in healthcare too. Rafael had some concierge service that meant he got a private room and quick imaging. He looked out of place in that sterile environment. The fluorescent lighting drew black pools under his eyes and carved out the hollows of his narrow face.
Each time a doctor or nurse touched him, he stiffened and stared them down. Even the more seasoned nurses treaded lightly, though they kicked Dee and me out while they inspected him. I heard him denying most of their symptom checklist questions.
No concussion, by some miracle, but Rafael was right about his ribs being fucked.
Along with some severe contusions, he had hairline fractures in his left cheekbone, clavicle, and forearm, and multiple fractures in his right hand where someone had stomped it.
My lip quivered at that news, but he remained detached.
Urine screens were clear, and there was no overt sign of internal bleeding. Blood test results were still pending.
Dee looked at his films again. “I’m shocked you don’t have more damage.”
“I am strong,” Rafael said simply. “I also fight dirty.” His lips peeled back in a grimace. “Bit one guy’s nose off. The smart ones kept their distance.”
The doctor talked him into a heavy dose of anti-inflammatories, some prophylactic antibiotics, and splinted his fingers.
He turned down heavier painkillers, much to the collective surprise of the healthcare professionals, and left.
Benson waited in the reception area. They volunteered to give Dee a ride back to her car. I gave her a fierce hug and let her go.
I’d meant to ask Rafael if I should drive, but the moment he started the engine, I burst into tears.
Huge, wracking sobs I didn’t realize I was holding in.
I couldn’t catch my breath, and his driving didn’t help.
My breathing sped along with the car until hyperventilation took over, and I was gasping.
Rafael opened the center console and pulled out, of all things, a paper bag.
“Calm down. Breathe into that.”
The trapped CO2 slowed my panicked, grasping lungs. Slowly, I calmed.
“I hit her! What have I done?” I whispered weakly.
“You defended me, canim. In a way no one ever has.” Rafael reached over and stroked my hair as he drove. “It will be ok. You have eyewitnesses and video evidence to back you up, and I have very good lawyers.”
“I’m sorry.” I rocked myself, fingernails digging into my arms.
“Do not be sorry. I love you so much my chest may crack open and flood you with the vast ocean of music you give me.”
He sang in Turkish. Not a melody I recognized, but it had the cadence of a lullaby. The weight of his hand on the back of my head and the buzz of his velvety bass brought me back down to earth.
1 “The Remedy” — Puscifer