“I remember thinking when I saw what was happening at Steph’s place that I’d take Emmy home to be with us. In my mind . . . and my heart . . . I knew that home meant being with you.”
“Then be with me.”
“Then take me and Emmy home.”
Jon held her for a moment. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you again.”
She nuzzled his neck. “It’s not your fault. And when my head is clearer and it doesn’t hurt to see, we’ll talk about what happens next with Steph and us.”
He held her at arm’s length. “Sit on the bed. Let me find your clothes, and we’ll go home so you can get some actual sleep. I just hope you don’t come to your senses and decide you don’t want to be with me, or forget altogether that you said you love me.”
She reached up with her somewhat good hand and pressed it to his jaw. “I didn’t just say it. I mean it. I feel it. I am so in it.”
He leaned into her palm and held her gaze. “When I was driving to get to you and I heard what was happening on the phone and Emmy screamed she was killing you . . .” Tears filled his eyes. “I really, really thought I lost you.”
“Never.”
The kiss they shared sealed that promise.
He made her head spin.
Or maybe that was the concussion. Either way she saw stars.
Jon gripped her waist a bit tighter and broke the kiss. “You need to sit down.”
He eased her back and onto the edge of the bed, untied the bows at the back of her hospital gown, and drew it down her arms, then sucked in a surprised gasp when he saw the colorful array of bruises covering the left side of her torso.
“Holy hell, Trinity.”
She glanced down at her naked chest and abdomen, but quickly looked away. She couldn’t look at the marks and remember what happened. “My clothes are in that bag.”
Jon reached out to touch a particularly bad spot at her ribs, but she quickly leaned back. “Don’t. It hurts.”
“It’s got to be excruciating. How the hell did you not scream when Emmy climbed in your lap?”
“It wasn’t easy, but I could see in her face how much she needed me.”
He closed his eyes and sighed before looking at her again. “The doctor thinks she should see a child psychologist to help her process what happened.”
“I can’t imagine how she felt watching what happened.”
“I know how she felt. Desperate. Angry. Useless. Frightened beyond belief.”
“Those are big feelings for adults. She’s four.” Feeling exposed, she wrapped her arms around her chest and middle.
Jon grabbed the bag off the end of the bed, unzipped it, and pulled out the soft lightweight black sweater Liz packed for her.
“Thank God I don’t need to put on a bra.”
“With those cracked ribs, no way,” he agreed. He gathered the material at the neckline and slipped it over her head, then pulled the sweater over her shoulders and gently picked up each of her hands and helped her put them in the sleeves. She winced. “How bad does it hurt?”
“It’s hard to describe. Everything comes in waves, radiating out from whatever body part I disturb. They held back on the pain meds because of the bleeding in my brain.”
“Why would that matter?”
“In case they needed to do surgery to relieve the pressure.”
Jon swore under his breath. “The cops left me a message I haven’t returned yet, but I’m hoping it’s to tell me Steph pleaded guilty to all the charges and I’ll never have to see her again.”
She took his hand. “You know you’re going to have to see and talk to her.”
“If I see her, I’ll kill her.”
“I’ll bail you out and we’ll run away with Emmy,” she teased.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve to be loved. She never gave you that. I will.”
Jon held her black leggings between his hands with his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to say to that, Trinity. It feels like so much more than I imagined I’d have in my life. More than I feel like I deserve right now.”
“Just accept it. And help me put on my pants, because I’m not leaving with my ass hanging out.”
Finally, he smiled. “I’m much better at taking your clothes off, but let’s see if we can do this in reverse.” He slipped the pants up to her knee on one leg then the other, moving her slowly to mitigate the pain in her ribs. She stood and he pulled the leggings up and over her hips. His hands stayed at her waist as he held her close.
She held his gaze and took in the fatigue and worry in his. “We’ve had a hell of a night.”
“I feel like I’ve been dragged through hell. I can’t imagine how you feel.”
She clamped her jaw tight, wrapped her arms around his middle, and hugged him. “Better now.” Though holding her arms up like that killed her ribs, she bit back the pain and focused on Jon holding her and the feel of his strong body pressed to hers.
The doctor walked in and spotted them. “I see you’re dressed and ready to go.”
She eased out of Jon’s embrace. “I just want to curl up in bed at home and shut off my brain.”
“You’re going to need to do that a lot over the next week, but it will ease up over time. Keep screen time to an hour or less a day. You’ll be light sensitive for a while, so sunglasses if you have to go outside, keep the lights down inside. Your short-term memory will be spotty. You may have trouble finding the right word or lose your thoughts before you can express them.”
Jon slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her close to his side. “I’ve seen some of that already.”
“Don’t be alarmed. It should clear up as her brain heals, but it could be weeks to months before it’s completely gone.” The doctor focused on her. “Be very careful getting up. Dizziness and blurred vision are very common. A fall with another blow to the head could make things significantly worse.”
“I see things floating in my vision. Stars in my eyes.”
He nodded. “Very common. You’ll probably want to shower and wash your hair. You’ve got stitches, so try to keep them as dry as possible, but I understand you’ll want to clean the blood from your hair.” He looked at Jon. “You should stand by while she showers for the first few days just to be safe.”
“I will.”
The doctor turned even more serious. “I understand your daughter is having some emotional issues. Trinity, do you remember our talk last night about reengaging with your therapist to help you cope with your PTSD and anxiety?”
“Vaguely. My brother Drake encouraged it this morning.”
“You’ve been through two very traumatic experiences. Last night, you had trouble knowing the difference between the past and present. Don’t be surprised if you have more episodes like that. Talking to someone, opening up about how you’re feeling and working through the trauma and learning to live—”
“Doc, I’ve done this before. I know what I need to do now.”
The doctor stared at her hand trembling at her side. “Please follow through. And if any of your symptoms worsen, contact me immediately.”