Rushed(92)

I shook my head, stopping when a pounding pain started to bounce from temple to temple. I guess I did have a concussion after all. "And Luisa?"

"She's getting checked out for some minor bruising, but she’s fine," Dad said. "You, on the other hand, have a broken ankle and a dislocated shoulder. The shoulder wasn't much—the doctors said that they popped it back in soon after getting here, but the ankle . . . they're not sure, but you might need surgery."

I looked down at the lumpy air cast at the foot of my bed and realized that my ankle did look a little wonky. Something about the angle, or perhaps the way it turned or something. "I don't feel any pain. What does our favorite grumpy family doctor have to say about it?" I asked, and Dom was the one to laugh.

"We'll check. We've been a little busy running the other loose ends down."

At the mention of loose ends, my smile disappeared, and I looked down. "Guess I screwed up, didn't I? I'm sorry."

Dad glanced at Dominic, who nodded and left the room. Alone, just the two of us, I was surprised when he patted me on my good shoulder. “You did good. You did our family proud today."

I straightened up, smiling, and he continued. “You rest. I'll keep these vultures in the press taken care of. Most of them owe me favors anyway. Dominic can take care of the law. They'll want a statement, of course, but we can delay that a few days. The cops don't care too much—they have Frakes, and they’ve got plenty on him. And Luisa apologized for not telling you she was going shopping, and that her stress was too much for her to deal with."

I nodded, reminding myself to talk to her about that later.

He patted me on the shoulder again, then looked out at the hallway. "Okay. I'll let you rest, and go handle things. I should give Luisa's father a call. He'll be happy to know that the person responsible was caught.”

Dad left, and I looked out the window of my room for a little bit. I was sleepy, and I let my eyes droop shut for a while, only to be woken up when a nurse came in. "Mr. Bertoli? Try not to fall asleep—doctor's orders. At least, not for another four or five hours."

"Well, you could have given me something less sleep-inducing than whatever the hell it is you pumped into me," I grumped, exhausted. My body was already all screwed up because of the swings in sleep and work, and now I had trauma and drugs pumping through my body. I wasn't suffering from concussion issues—I was f*cking tired. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Four thirty," the nurse said. "And if you need, I can turn on some television. It's not much, but it might help keep you awake. Dinner comes around in a half-hour, but you're on a liquid-only diet today. Hospital concussion protocol."

There was a polite knock at the door, and I turned to see Luisa, a bandage on her cheek and her wrist wrapped in an ACE bandage, but still looking better than anything else I'd seen so far. "May I come in?"

The nurse gave her an approving nod and left, closing the door behind her. Luisa walked closer and stood next to my bed. We looked at each other for a minute, trying to find the words to break through everything we both wanted to say. I cleared my throat, and she scratched underneath her bandage, then finally, she looked at the blanket over my lower body.

"How's the leg?" she asked, looking down. She reached out hesitantly before laying her uninjured hand on my thigh, above the bulge of my splint.

I cleared my throat again and put my hand over hers. "I might need surgery, they said. If anything, I'll be wearing a cast for a while. I don't feel much yet, at least. How's your wrist? They didn’t tell me about that.”

She raised her arm up and showed it to me. “It’s nothing—just sprained. I’m supposed to wear this for a few days, but I think it’s just for show.”

"That’s good," I said. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt."

Luisa smiled, then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "You were very noble today. Stupid, brave, wonderful, and crazy too. But noble for sure."

She took my right hand and stroked it with her thumb, looking at me as she thought about what to say next. I knew what I had to say first, though. "Luisa, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she replied softly. "I shouldn’t have blown up at you today."

I shook my head, pleased that my headache didn't return. "You had every reason to. I treated you like shit last night. After we . . . well, you know."

"I do," Luisa said. “And since you said it, yes, I did have every reason to,” she said as she winked at me. “But I've been a pretty big bitch for most of the time I've been in Seattle."

"I haven't made it easy for you," I said. "I should’ve been more understanding. Just . . . there's a reason I haven’t been in a serious relationship for a while now.”

"What was her name?" Luisa said with a sad smile, reading my mind. "Someone broke your heart, didn't they?"

I nodded. "Her name was Samantha, although everyone called her Sam. We were in the same freshman math class in college, one of those classes that everyone has to take based on your high school records. She was smart and pretty, and while I was pretty idealistic at the time, trying to turn over a new leaf and all, I could tell she liked me too. One night, after a long study session, one thing led to another and, well . . .”