Absolutely Unforgivable(62)
In frustration the paramedic turned towards Billy and Trista. “She doesn’t seem to have any permanent damage; her vision isn’t blurry; she isn’t dizzy and she’s not vomiting. Just make sure she takes it easy for the next couple of hours. If she notices any bouts of dizziness or she suddenly has a hard time focusing, take her to the emergency room as quickly as possible.”
The man looked over at me hiding behind Vin, still covered in blood and then he looked back towards Billy. “Because of the possibility of blood-borne pathogens, you will want to make sure she pays a visit to her primary care physician for testing. It’s probably not an issue but it really is better to be safe than sorry. With all of that blood, you just never know.”
The man began to pick up his equipment and as he walked by me to head out the door Vin stepped in his path, making sure to block him from getting near me. The paramedic said, “I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to scare you. I know you’ve been through a lot.”
He walked out the door and began speaking to the others who were just arriving. After the shooting, the two cops that were at our house soon turned to five and before long the five cops turned into ten and from there I just lost count. There were so many people coming and going I just couldn’t keep up with them all.
As I stood safely between Vin and the wall, I began to look at myself. The blood was everywhere. There was just so much of it. Still holding on tightly to Vin’s waist I popped my head around his big arm and asked Trista if she could help me.
“Sure, hon. What is it?” She asked as she walked over to me and took me by the hand.
“I want to get this off of me,” I said pointing at the blood all over my swimsuit. “Can you help me?”
“Of course. Let’s get you in the shower.”
Without thinking I walked to the foot of the stairs and Vin quickly jumped in front of me shaking his head. I looked up, suddenly remembering why I couldn’t go there. My stalker’s dead body was sprawled out on the floor.
Trista pulled me by the hand towards Billy’s bathroom but before we could get too far an officer approached us. He needed to take pictures of me in my current condition for evidence. I didn’t want to do this. I wanted everyone to just leave me alone.
Billy came up to me, stood by my side, and assured me it was going to be okay and held my hand the entire time that they took the photos of me. Luckily, they were pretty quick about it. I wanted to get out of that room so badly. The officers said they wanted me to turn my bloody swimsuit over to them to be bagged and tagged for evidence, and Trista said she would bring it to them after.
Trista and I made our way to Billy’s bathroom once again. Vin went in first to make sure the room was clear. It was and then he allowed us in and then stood guard by the door. Billy stayed in the foyer talking to several of the police officers and paramedics who had just arrived to the scene.
Trista ran the bath water and I sat on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. It had all just been so much to take in. Trista helped me take my bloody swimsuit off and then sat me down in the tub. She grabbed a nearby rag and washed my entire body while I sat there staring off into space. I started to come to as she rinsed the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair.
She helped me out of Billy’s big bathtub and put a towel around me to dry off. I looked down at my clothes laying on the floor, suddenly realizing I had nothing clean to put on and I couldn’t exactly go upstairs to get anything either.
Trista didn’t give it a second thought. She flung open the bathroom door, pushed Vin aside and went into Billy’s closet to find me something I could wear. Billy was much bigger than I was so it wasn’t exactly easy to find something that wouldn’t just fall off of me but finally she settled on a white polo button up shirt and a pair of his black silk boxers. Vin walked me into the bedroom and turned his back so I could dress in privacy, then he walked with me back to the bedroom.
I sat on the bed and lifted my legs, one at a time, as Trista slipped some socks on my feet and then I got up and carefully walked behind Vin to the kitchen where several police officers were waiting to speak to me.
Trista, ever the constant professional didn’t want to pass up a marketing opportunity, sat me down in the kitchen as the men spoke to me. She grabbed her purse and pulled out her makeup bag and started touching up my face while the police officers were asking me question after question that I didn’t really know the answers to. She acted as if the police were not there talking to me about a dead man upstairs near my bedroom. To her it was just like I was there getting ready to greet fans.