I know she’s right, but that doesn’t mean it makes it any easier to just let her walk out the door, not knowing if she’ll be walking right into danger.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I admit to her softly.
I watch as the anger leaves her face and she closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them and looking at me again. She searches my face and I realize she’s trying to see if I’m telling the truth. I hate that she doesn’t trust me, but it’s my own damn fault.
“I’ll be fine. I have my gun and I’ll go straight to the office and straight back after I meet with Mrs. Anderson,” she promises.
“I’ll go with you.”
She shakes her head at me and sighs. “You need to stay here with Ellie and Emma. Under normal circumstances, Ellie would love to stay here alone with her, but she’s scared out of her mind. She’ll tell you it’s fine, but I know her. She’s not going to want to be alone. I promise I’ll call if I don’t feel comfortable.”
She’s right and there’s nothing I can do but let her go. She’s smart, she’s strong and she’s a survivor. I have to trust her to take care of herself; I won’t be here forever to keep an eye on her.
As I take a step back and pull the door open for her, I watch her leave and pray to God nothing happens or I’ll never be able to forgive myself.
“God dammit! Why the fuck isn’t she answering her phone?” I shout as I weave in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds.
Ellie is in the backseat with my cell phone in her hand, repeatedly trying to call Gwen and Emma is on her lap, crying hysterically.
I glance in the rearview mirror and my heart plummets to my stomach when I get another look at the blood running down the side of Emma’s face.
I was in my room talking on the phone to Cole when I heard a thud from the living room, followed immediately by the sound of Emma crying. I’ve never moved so fast in my fucking life. When I got to the living room, I saw Emma on the floor next to the coffee table holding her hand on her head, blood seeping between her fingers.
Ellie was bent down next to her trying to pry Emma’s hand away from her head to get a look at the wound. “She tripped and smacked her head on the corner of the table. I tried to reach for her, but I wasn’t fast enough.”
With a sick feeling in my stomach, I stalked to the middle of the room, scooped a sobbing Emma up in my arms and packed her and Ellie into the backseat.
As I race to towards the hospital, Emma continues to cry and ask for her Momma. I’m trying not to freak the fuck out that Gwen isn’t answering her phone; I’ve got enough to worry about right now – like making sure Emma doesn’t bleed out in the back of my car before we get to the hospital.
I make it to the hospital in record time and pull up to the emergency room entrance. Putting the car in park, I quickly get out and open the back door, leaning in and pulling a sobbing Emma into my arms.
“It’s okay, pipsqueak, the doctor is going to make it all better, okay?” I tell her as I race through the sliding doors.
I get to the registration desk and it suddenly occurs to me that I don’t even know if Gwen has medical insurance for Emma and I know for a fact they won’t treat her without a parent present.
“Oh no, it looks like you got a boo-boo,” the nurse at the desk says to Emma in a soothing voice as she stands up and leans over the counter to get a closer look.
“She hit her head on the coffee table,” I explain to her. “She won’t let us look at it so I’m not sure how bad it is, but it won’t stop bleeding.”
The nurse smiles at Emma as she pulls a clipboard off of a pile and sets it on the counter. “Head wounds always bleed a lot, even if they aren’t that bad. We’ll get her into an exam room right away and have a doctor look at it. Are you her parents?”
I notice the nurse looking next to me and turn to see Ellie standing there.
Jesus, I forgot she was even in the car. Awesome fucking protector I’m turning out to be.
Ellie wraps her arm around my waist and smiles at the nurse. “Yes, I’m her mother and this is her father.”
I glance nervously down at Emma to see if she’s going to contradict Ellie, but she’s still softly crying with her face pressed into my chest and doesn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, I’m her father,” I tell the nurse quietly as I continue staring down at Emma.
I swallow past the lump in my throat when I say those words and look up as Ellie grabs the clipboard from the counter. “We just moved here for my husband’s job transfer and his insurance hasn’t kicked in yet. Is it okay if we just pay cash for whatever services my daughter needs?”
She speaks so naturally, like she’s been practicing this speech for a week. At least one of us has their head on straight right now.
The nurse tells her that’s perfectly fine and then ushers us to one of the exam rooms. When I start to set Emma down on the exam table, her hands latch onto my shirt, clutching it tightly in her tiny hands and shaking her head back and forth.
“I don’t want to sit there. Can I just stay with you, Austin?” Emma pleads.
I kiss the top of her head and move away from the table, going to one of the chairs against the wall. I sit down with Emma in my lap and keep my arms securely wrapped around her while Ellie fills out the paperwork in the chair next to us and we wait for the doctor to come in.
Forty-five minutes, three stitches, six-hundred dollars and two suckers later, Emma is all patched up and sitting in the back seat of my car next to Ellie, happily looking out the window and chatting about her exciting day.
I pull up to Brady’s apartment and when I don’t see Gwen’s car, I realize we never tried to call her again once we got to the hospital. As Ellie and Emma get out of the backseat, I casually check my phone, not wanting to alert either of them to my panic.
I immediately see a text from Gwen apologizing for taking so long and explaining that Mr. and Mrs. Anderson both showed up to the meeting and all hell broke loose when Gwen showed Mrs. Anderson the photos of her cheating husband. She said she’ll be home in ten minutes and I figure there’s no point in calling her now and freaking her out. I might as well just wait until she gets home to tell her what happened.
Ellie takes Emma into the back bedroom to get her changed into her pajamas and I go into my bedroom and close the door behind me. I walk over to the dresser and stare at myself in the mirror, my eyes traveling down to my chest and the splotch of blood Emma left behind. The stain is right over my heart. I reach up and run my fingers over it, wondering why in the hell I feel like shit. Emma got hurt, but it wasn’t that bad. I got her to the hospital and she’s fine now.
With my hand still over my heart, I remember the way she clung to me in the exam room and the smile she gave me when the doctor told her she could have two suckers for being so brave. I turn away from the mirror and shake my head angrily.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve seen men shot between the eyes and held my hands over bloody stumps when a leg was blown off by an RPG and I never felt like I would lose my mind with worry. This was one little girl with a tiny cut – not really that big of a deal considering the shit I’ve been around in my career.
Reaching for the hem of my shirt, I yank it roughly off of my body and toss it into the trashcan next to the dresser. As I’m reaching in one of the drawers for a clean shirt, I hear the door to the apartment open and close.
I turn and hurry out of the room, wanting to get to Gwen before she goes into the bedroom and sees Emma.