Crush(117)

Blood pulsed in my ears and my calm fa?ade began to crack.

As if she had to get it out, she went on. “I knew what too much insulin would lead to. I’d lectured my mother about it all the time when she became reckless with her injections. And that sound, the sound of nail against plastic, I knew what it meant each and every time. I begged them to stop. I promised to be a good girl. I promised, but they still kept doing it.”

I had to man up. I was having a hard time breathing, but what kind of sick f*ck does that to someone? “Elle, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tears streamed down her face. “They used to do that to psychotic patients in the twenties to experiment on them.”

I swallowed—hard. The lump in my throat was making it difficult to breathe.

Before I could say anything, the door started to swing open. The nurse’s back was to me and I bolted off the bed, my hand behind my back ready to take action if I had to—hospital or not. I relaxed when I saw a tray of food in her hand.

“Miss Sterling, you’re awake.” The nurse smiled crossing the room to open the blinds. Once they were open, she turned around and then glared at me. “I don’t believe visitors have been authorized.”

“What happened to her? What state did she arrive in? What did the doctors say?” All my questions, the ones I didn’t want to ask Elle, came streaming out.

Her glare reached around me to Elle. “Is this man bothering you?”

Elle’s laugh was a surprise, but the sobs that followed were not. “No, he’s the only thing in my life that seems sane right now.”

At that she relaxed. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,”

“We’ve talked?”

“Yes, I brought you up here. You were quite out of it, though, so it’s not a surprise that you don’t remember. You kept asking me to call Logan, but I couldn’t make out his last name or the number you were giving me.”

“This is Logan, Logan McPherson.” She pointed to me with a smile on her face that eased all the pain I was feeling in my heart.

The nurse’s smile only grew, and she set the tray on the table beside the bed and then went over and took Elle’s pulse. “You need to eat. Perhaps this handsome man could make sure you do. I’ll go notify the doctor that you’ve woken so he can come by and check on you.”

Elle pushed the tray away. “I can’t eat. My stomach is really upset.”

The nurse pointed to a needle on the tray beside the food. “The doctor ordered Zofran. It will help, I promise.”

Elle went to stand. “I need to use the bathroom first.”

The nurse nodded and assisted her.

Closing the door, the nurse stepped back into the room. “Now, I’m going to bend patient confidentiality and answer your questions. Just know I don’t do this on a regular basis, but Miss Sterling was asking for you. First, I want to ease your mind. She was not sexually assaulted.”

Relief flooded me. I’d been a coward and unable to ask Elle myself.

“Upon arrival, she was very close to slipping into an insulin coma, but thankfully she was brought into the ER just in time. There doesn’t appear to be any sustaining injuries. The cut on her cheek looks like a knife wound but should heal with very little scarring.”

I flinched as visions of Tommy in my grandfather’s kitchen came to mind.

“The doctor will suggest having a plastic surgeon take a look at it. I’m not so sure that’s needed, but it’s up to her.”

The door opened and my Elle stood there, looking so frail and thin. Her cheeks looked hollow, her skin pale, and her eyes dulled.

“She was slightly dehydrated, but the IV has helped with that. She still needs to take in a good amount of fluids in the next few days. I hope I can count on you to make sure she gets what she needs.”

I nodded.

The nurse insisted on helping Elle to the bed, but I stayed close to her side. As soon as Elle was back on the bed, the nurse inserted the needle into the IV. “Now, this will make you drowsy, so I’ll make sure the doctor waits a good two hours before coming by to check on you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”

She gave Elle’s arm a pat and mine a squeeze. “Listen, I don’t get involved in my patients’ business, but whatever happened, I hope you tell the police. It’s noted in your chart that your statement was vague upon arrival and that you postponed questioning until tomorrow. Please go down there and do it. I’d hate for this to happen to anyone else.”

I looked at the nurse. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll be escorting her personally.”

She glanced back down. “Oh, okay. It states here a Mr. O’Shea would be doing so.”

“His mistake,” I noted, and I couldn’t help but wonder what his involvement was.

The nurse left and when I swung my eyes back to Elle, that’s when I noticed the bruises on her legs and couldn’t hold back my loud gasp.

“Logan,” Elle whispered.

I looked at her face.

“I’m okay, really I am.”

“I love you,” I said, and had to fend off the tears that I felt welling in my eyes. I’d never cried in my life, but looking at her bruised and battered was going to break me.