Page 92 of Beautiful Deceit
Eventually the nurse, Linda, returns to the waiting room. Most of the news is good, but the details of her injuries will forever haunt me.
“She's had a transfusion, to help with blood loss,” Linda frowns deeply at us. “She’s severely dehydrated, so she’ll need constant IV fluids and a heavy round of antibiotics.” She sighs, continuing, “Her heart rate and blood pressure are back to a more normal range, and a cat scan shows that the internal bleeding in her abdomen stopped on its own.”
Linda reassures me several times that it’s quite common for small hemorrhages to heal themselves. It had been hours, possibly a day, since she sustained the injury.
I think how easily she could have died and the pain she must have endured. I want to scream but know I can’t. She must have been so scared.
I sit, stewing in my own rage. I want to visit the same torture upon him. I want to feel his bones snap under my hands. My hands shake as I try to regain my self-control. I can’t focus.
Brian’s hand is on my shoulder. I can barely feel it. My thoughts are spiraling.
Linda continues to update us on Samantha's condition, and it’s these updates that keep me here, waiting when all I want to do is find him and kill him.
“Her right hand and arm will require surgery to repair the damage.”
“When will they do the surgery?”
“We are waiting for her to gain consciousness. The biggest concern now is that she hasn't woken up yet.”
Linda leaves soon after, and Brain goes back to his motel room to get some rest, asking me three times to come with him, before accepting that I'm not leaving.
It's late when Linda peeks her head into the room, “You’re not sleeping?”
I shake my head. It’s not that I haven’t tried, but my brain just won't stop thinking about everything. Her shoulders slump and nose scrunches up, squinting her eyes. “I’m really not supposed to do this…” she looks down the hall in both directions. “Come on.” Her hand motions me forward.
I’m out of the chair and at the door, following behind her in seconds. Taking mercy on me she delivers me to Sam's room with a warning that I only have a precious few minutes.
I push past the door and peer inside. The room is dim, with only a light coming from just above her bed. She looks small and frail lying there. I listen to her heart beat over the monitor. It’s the only sound in the room. Taking a few steps closer, I bite my lip. I’m tempted to try and wake her. Her left arm is cocooned in white bandages. The sight of her face covered in bruises threatens to shatter the tiny bit of composure I have left.
I brush my fingers over the shell of her ear, pushing back the few hairs that have fallen over her shoulder. “Oh Sammy,” I curl my arm up over her head, careful not to touch her and drop my forehead to the mattress beside her.
Too soon, I feel someone enter the room. A palm lands on my shoulder, and I know my time is up. Standing, I wipe away the evidence of my tears before turning around.
Linda ushersme back to the waiting room, a small crinkly pillow and a thin white blanket in her hands. She offers them to me and nods at a long bench.
I sleep restlessly. In my mind, I still hear the sound of her heartbeat.
Chapter 29
Iwake disoriented. It takes my sleep deprived brain a few moments to recognize what woke me so abruptly. The room is dimly lit by the low lights in the hall. I can make out a figure standing by the door. I run a hand over my face trying to wake up enough to speak.
I drop my feet to the floor before I croak, "Sorry, you can turn on the light. One of the nurses must have shut it off." I clear my throat. I need water. I must have slept longer then I had assumed.
No reply comes from whoever entered, and the light stays off. As my eyes adjust, I'm able to make out her shape, it's definitely a her.
"I think the light switch is on the wall, by the door, right behind you." My voice is still deep from sleep, but at least it's more discernible.
She reaches back without turning around. My eyes snap shut from the glare of the bright lights. I use my hand to shield my eyes as they adjust. The first thing they make out is colorful clogs.
Removing my hand, I get my first look at the young woman that entered. She’s dressed in scrubs.
I stand abruptly. My ears buzz as a wave of vertigo hits me.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Her eyes go round, her hand flies up to her forehead, and her cheeks turn pink.
“Oh goodness, yes.” She flusters, “I'm so sorry. It's not every day you meet a movie star around here.” She puts a hand out to gesture to the double doors, “Samantha, she's starting to wake up. She's called for you a few times." That's all it takes to have me flying down the hall.
