Jon looked to Drake, hoping he had some answers.
“It’s the head injury mixed with the trauma. Her brain is trying to sort things out but she can’t make sense of it, so her brain sort of shuts off. It should clear up as the swelling goes down.”
“How long will that take?”
“They’ll CT her again and see if the brain bleed is subsiding or getting worse.”
“You’re talking about me like I’m not here again.” Trinity listened to them, but the confusion in her eyes worried him.
“I’m so sorry, Trinity. I never thought something like this would happen.”
“Clint is dead now. Everything is going to be okay.” She touched the scar on her temple. “I’ll be fine.”
Drake shook his head. “She’s got sixteen stitches in the back of her head. We’ll know more in the morning.”
Tate burst into the room. “Emmy’s awake and screaming her head off for you.”
Jon gave Trinity a quick kiss and ran out of the room and down the hall to get to his little girl, but he left part of himself in the room with Trinity.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Trinity had been up most of the night. Everything ached. Her hands. Her head. Her chest. Her heart. Even her hair.
She wanted to shut off her mind, but it kept jumping around from past to present, nightmare to nightmare, and all the while her mind kept going back to Jon and Emmy.
She loved her family for staying with her all through the night, and the way Tate went back and forth between rooms to update Jon on her condition and to update her on Emmy’s.
But she hated the separation, the vague answers, and her own mind not being able to hold on to a thought so that she could be sure what they told her was true and not her mind playing tricks on her.
Drake took Adria home to rest. Declan and Skye went to pick up breakfast. Tate sent Liz home so she could get some sleep, but he stayed with her.
“Once they get the results of your latest scan, they’ll let us know if you can go home.” Tate kept his patience with her all through the night when she asked him the same questions over and over again.
It scared her that her mind didn’t work right. The pounding headache turned to a dull throb that wouldn’t quit. The flashing lights in her eyes came and went but now she had strange floaters that danced across her vision.
Tate pushed her wheelchair down the hallway. The overhead lights were far too bright for her sensitive eyes, sitting hurt her ribs, her fingers were killing her, but she wanted to see Emmy.
Tate stopped at Emmy’s door, knocked, then opened it, and pushed Trinity into the brightly lit room. She winced at the light coming in from the windows. Tate handed her the sunglasses Liz luckily had in her purse and left for her to use before she went home.
Trinity waited to put them on because she wanted Emmy to see her whole face and know that she was okay.
Emmy sat on the bed, her legs crossed, holding Jon’s hand as he sat in front of her in the chair, leaning in close to her.
“Why can’t I see her?”
Jon smiled, though it didn’t reach his sad eyes. “Turn around, Emmy. She’s here.”
Emmy turned, dropped her dad’s hand, and scrambled off the bed and ran to her. She threw her arms around Trinity and hugged her tight.
Trinity bit back the yelp of pain moving caused her ribs and hugged the little girl back.
Emmy climbed into her lap, curled up into her, and let loose a sorrowful cry that brought tears to Trinity’s eyes.
She wrapped Emmy up close, the pain in her body blanked out by the overwhelming ache in her heart. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Here I am.”
“I . . . I thought she killed you.”
Trinity pressed her cheek to Emmy’s head. “No, sweetheart. I’m just a little sore.” She lied for Emmy’s benefit, when in reality she could barely stand the agony. It hurt so bad, she had to close her eyes to block out the light and Jon’s earnest and compassionate gaze.
His hand pressed to her face. “We’re so happy to see you. Emmy wanted to go to your room, but I wasn’t sure you were up for visitors yet.”
“And yet I have a vague sense you’ve been frequently coming to check on me.” She opened her eyes just a slit to confirm the agreement in his eyes.
“Emmy’s grandpa was here most of the night, so I could go back and forth,” Jon confirmed.
Tate went to the window and closed the blinds.
She sighed with relief and opened her eyes. “Emmy needed you.”
“You needed me and I wasn’t there.” Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped, and he looked so damn disappointed and angry with himself.
Tate tried to look out for her. “I’m going to find the doctor and see if he has your latest scan results. Getting you home where you can rest should help lower your anxiety.”
“I’m fine,” she automatically said.
Tate rolled his eyes and left them alone.
Jon took her hand and held it up, showing her that it trembled. He clasped it gently in both of his. “You are going to be okay. You’ll need some time to adjust again. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to be the one to take care of you.”
“I’m okay. Sore. Foggy. But . . .”
“You can’t be left alone for a while, Trinity. Not with that head injury. Drake and Declan are talking about taking you home to one of their places, but I want you to come home with us.”
Emmy looked up at her. “I get to stay with Daddy. The judge said so.”
Jon gave her a wary smile. “My lawyer got an emergency custody order. Emmy stays with me.”
“Right where she belongs.”
Emmy tugged her hair. “You have to come, too. Please.”
Trinity’s eyes glassed over. Both of them looked at her with imploring eyes.
“Please, Trinity,” Jon begged. “Give me a chance to make this up to you.”
“Make what up to me?” She didn’t understand. He hadn’t done anything to her.
“We’ll talk about it later.” Jon held his hands out to Emmy. “Come here, sweetheart. Trinity loves to hold you, but she needs to rest.” Jon plucked Emmy off her lap, and she was able to breathe a little easier without her ribs screaming at her. “I don’t know how you’re holding it together so well.”
She looked up at him, concerned that maybe she wasn’t comprehending everything that was going on right now. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be better when I have you home and I know you’re really going to be okay.”
That sounded good to her. She really wanted to get some sleep. “Okay. Can we go soon? I’m really tired.”
“Emmy should be released any time now, but I’m not sure if the doctor will let you go home yet.”
“Why did Emmy have to stay here?” It finally dawned on her that Emmy stayed in the hospital last night for some reason.
Jon set Emmy on the bed and handed her his phone. “Play your game while I talk to Trinity.” He came back to her and pushed her chair back toward the door, then squatted next to her. “Emmy was very scared last night,” he whispered.
“I tried to get to her, but . . .” She tried to make the images in her mind clear. “I couldn’t seem to reach her.”