Chapter 36: Chapter 36

WREN

I wake up feeling simultaneously in pain and numb. My face feels swollen and my brain feels like it’s slogging through thick mud.

My eyes focus on the white room around me. I try to remember what happened and why I am in an unfamiliar place. I look around and see Lance sitting next to my bed, his head in his hands.

I try to say “hey,” but my voice croaks and just comes out as “ahy.”

Lance looks up, his face etched with concern. He gasps and leaps up.

“Wren! You’re awake, I’m so sorry.” Lance gently kisses my head and tears fill his eyes. “I’m so sorry I left you.”

“Stop, it’s okay, Lance. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is, this wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for me.”

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

I go to lean up to him. I want him to hold me. But the pain shoots through my torso like a lightning bolt.

“Oh, don’t try to sit up, love. Here.” Lance presses a button and the head of my bed begins to rise. “Four broken ribs, a torn rotator cuff, and a hell of a concussion.”

I try to process this information. Snippets of what happened before I lost consciousness flash through my mind.

Lance’s eyes are glassy and sad again. He strokes my head and watched me intently.

“Please stop looking so sad, you’re breaking my heart,” I say as my bed finally reaches a comfortable resting position.

“The alternative is blind rage,” he says as he sits down and holds my hand. “Wren, do you remember anything?”

I close my eyes and think.

“I thought they were there to deliver the supplies.”

“So there was more than one?”

“Yes—four or five, I think?”

Lance squeezes my hand. “That’s good. Did you recognize anyone?”

“They wore masks, but I think I recognized a voice. It could be Tad,” I say, swallowing hard.

I see Lance clench his jaw.

“That asshole will be sorry. Did he hurt you?”

“I don’t know for sure if it was him,” I said. “But he was the only one who seemed to be after me, not just money.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He said if he had his way, he’d kill Puck and make me watch,” I say. “Is Puck okay?”

“Yes, he was sitting with you when I arrived. I put him in the apartment.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“He attacked one of them. Someone almost shot him, but they stopped in case someone heard.” I shift uncomfortably in the bed. “When can I get out of here? I want to go home. I want to see Puck.”

“The doctor wants to run a few more tests, so I think not until they can get those done. You’re probably here for the night, love.”

“What about Puck?”

“My mom and Jeremy are taking care of him.”

“Please thank them for me.”

Lance smiles. “Already did.”

A doctor comes in to talk to me. He’s nice enough, but doesn’t seem to have any urgency for getting me out of here.

I’m grateful for the care but I want nothing more than to be resting in a bed with Lance and Puck beside me.

He tells me about my injuries and what to expect in the next few weeks. I’ve had injuries before, but it’s been a while, and I’m not looking forward to taking it easy while I heal.

Finally, as the doctor is leaving, a sheriff comes in and asks me several questions about the attack. I recount everything as best I can, and more comes back to me—a slight lisp, an eye color.

Lance steps outside with the sheriff before returning.

A nurse comes in then. She brings me some food and attempts to kick Lance out for the night but he refuses.

“I’m not leaving her, she was attacked,” Lance says kindly yet firmly.

“Honey, she’s perfectly safe here,” says the nurse.

“Yes, she is, because I’ll be staying,” Lance says, crossing his arms.

The nurse looks at me. “Got yerself a stubborn one here, huh?” she asks me while jerking her thumb at Lance.

I smile. “The most stubborn,” I say.

The nurse looks back to him. “Fine, but you need to get out while I get her up and to the bathroom. I’ll come get you when we’re done,” she says.

“Okay, I’ll be right outside,” he says to me, then leaves.

Getting out of bed is excruciating. My whole body feels like a bruise with the exception of my ribs which just feel like I’m being stabbed every time I move.

By the time I get to the bathroom a solid six feet from my bed, tears are streaming down my face.

After she helps me up and examines my urine for blood, the nurse (whose name I learn is Ina) goes to help me back to bed, but I stop her.

“Can I brush my teeth?”

“Of course, honey. I’ll go grab you a toothbrush and paste. You okay to wait here on your own?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Ina bustles out of the room. I wash my hands in the sink and splash some water on my face. Spots of purple and yellow bloom across my skin and dark circles settle under my eyes.

I look like shit. I look like I feel.

Suddenly, I feel so weak and helpless and very, very tired. I wonder briefly if this is a small taste of what Max endured for months. I push the intrusive thought from my mind as fast as I can manage.

By the time Ina returns, I’m full-blown sobbing. I don’t even know exactly why or where it’s coming from.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” She hugs me gently and I can feel her genuine warmth. I nod but continue to cry for a few more minutes. Finally, I pull it together and wipe my face.

“Thanks, I think I just needed to get that out,” I say.

Ina hands me the toothbrush and I brush my teeth.

Back in the room, Lance and Ina help me get back into bed. She brings Lance a blanket and pillow and makes sure to tell him she won’t be catering to him too—he’s on his own now.

She gives me a dose of pain meds and says she’ll be back in a few hours.

Lance leans against my bed, his hand gently stroking hair back from my face.

“This is a stupid question, but are you okay?”

I look at him briefly before answering. “No, I’m not. But I will be.”

A pause settles between us.

“What are we going to do, Lance? We can’t keep living like this.”

Lance sits on the bed and looks at me intently. “I’m not going to let anything else happen to you, I promise.

“We’re changing the locks on everything, guards will be at the gate twenty-four seven, I’ll do whatever it takes,” he says, his face is full of concern.

“Lance, we can’t do this forever,” I say.

“What do you want me to do, Wren? I’ll do anything.”

I sigh. “Well, you aren’t going to like this idea, but...I think we need to go on the offensive.”