Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(125)

“It’s okay, baby doll,” I assured her, picking her up and simply carrying her to the ambulance, despite the protest of the emergency workers.

Again, they didn’t want me in the ambulance with them, something about policies and liabilities, but Julianna’s dad once more talked them into letting me stay.

We finally got her to sit, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand all the way to the hospital, and I had to say, I didn’t mind. It was nice to feel her alive under my fingers. I didn’t want to be apart from her, no matter how hard it was to witness her agony and only imagine what she’d gone through these past few days.

At the hospital, she was still resistant to being rolled in on her back. She wanted to walk, except she was like a new colt, her steps stuttering and uncertain. So we got her to compromise with a wheelchair.

I think we broke a ton of hospital rules. She didn’t want anyone cutting her clothes off her, she begged for a shower, she refused to take a rape kit, saying there was no need (thank God), and she wanted no one but me to assist her through all this. Considering what she’d been through, they pretty much let her have her way.

So after I helped her strip down and turned on the shower water for her, she took one look at the tiny cubicle and turned away, burrowing into me as a fresh sob wracked her body.

“Shh… it’s okay,” I murmured into her hair. “You don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

If I were her, I doubt I’d ever want to step foot into a small space again either.

But she shook her head. “No, I want…” Her voice broke, going hoarse. She looked up, her eyes begging. “Come with me?” she whispered, pleadingly.

I nodded immediately. “Of course.”

The nurse standing by, waiting to assist, said, “I’ll find you something to change into, sir. You have blood all over your clothes, anyway.”

As she took off, I stripped down as well and took Julianna’s hand before helping her into the shower. She grabbed my wrist when I went to close the curtain, but when I looked at her, she eased her grip and nodded.

My heart broke. She was scared but still trying to be brave. My brave fighter.

I helped her rinse off and soap up and rinse again. Once the water was off, I found a towel to wrap around my waist before scrubbing her dry with another. She just stood there, shivering. The nurse and I dressed her in warm socks and a hospital gown as quickly as possible before leading her to the bed, where they had to redress her wounds that had gotten wet. Her fever had spiked to a hundred and six, so they set her up with an IV full of medicine and fluids.

She had scrapes and abrasions and bruises all over, but the knife slashes on her stomach were the worst of it. I was grateful for that, and yet still worried out of my mind, because I knew her true injuries were ones that couldn’t be bandaged.

While the nurse fussed over her, getting her more water, I stepped back into the bathroom to pull on the scrubs they’d found for me to wear. After I was clothed again, I paused a moment to look at my face in the mirror.

It felt strange to look at my reflection and see the same face I’d always seen. Everything felt different now. I should’ve looked into the mirror and seen a stranger. But it was still me, which was so freaking bizarre.

When my hands began to shake because the reality of what had just happened to her started to set in, I quickly left the bathroom, unable to deal with that just yet.

Julianna’s father had arrived while I’d been changing. He and I shared a brief glance and respectful nod before I turned my attention to my girl.

“You look like a doctor,” she said, blinking at me. Her voice was getting stronger, less rough. I swear she’d been drinking water by the gallon since we’d found her, so maybe that was helping.

I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively as I approached to sit in the chair across the bed from where her father stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

“A sexy doctor?” I asked, taking her fingers when she held out her hand to me. The ends of them were bandaged in white gauze.

The corners of her lips tipped up in a smile, the first hint of a smile I’d seen from her in three days. “Of course,” she answered, her bruised eyes sparkling with mischief right before she added, “almost as sexy as Dr. Hamilton.”

Gasping as if hurt, I pressed my hand to my chest. “Oh, baby doll, you wound me.” But honestly, I was grateful she was able to tease.

Closing her eyes, she kept smiling as she gripped my fingers. “As if.”

I kissed her scraped knuckles and blew out a shuddered yet relieved breath just as a tap came to the door.

“Sorry for the intrusion.” The two detectives—Wilson and Hall—stepped into the room, nodding respectfully to Julianna. “But we were wondering if Miss Radcliffe was able to make a statement now.”

Julianna’s father and I immediately protested, but Juli waved her hand. “I want to get it over with.” But she tightened her grip on my fingers, letting me know she wanted me to stay.

So I sat there and listened to her entire account.

And while the officers began their questions, I fought the urge to tell them to f*ck off every time she had to pause because her voice went too hoarse. She winced while she swallowed and had to take another drink, continuing. They didn’t have many questions because she was pretty detailed and chronological about the series of events, a fact that made me increasingly sick to my stomach and equal parts awed.