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“You’re in the hospital summer.” Her voice remains soft. “Do you remember what happened?”
Blinking a couple of times, my hand flies to my mouth as tears fall from my eyes. I feel myself shake, yet I can’t get the words out. I frantically shake my head as she pulls up a chair to my bedside, resting her hand on my arm.
“It’s ok, Summer. You’re safe.” She speaks softly, yet firmly, as I feel my mind begin to spiral, when the memory of the attack begins to flood back.
“Did…did he rape me?” I manage to choke out before sobbing loudly, pulling my knees up to my chest and trying to curl myself into a ball.
“No, he didn’t. You took a nasty bump to the head, but aside from that and some bruising, you’ll be ok.” She reassures me.
I frantically nod when relief washes over me. The young nurse holds my gaze, still offering me her calmness.
“There are some detectives outside. Are you okay with talking to them?”
Nodding, I accept the water passed to me. Taking large gulps, I’m so empty I feel the water passing through me. Wiping the droplets from my mouth, the nurse leaves the room. She looks back for a brief moment but doesn’t say anything before closing the door behind her. Trying to gather my thoughts, the door opens after a couple of moments, and Detective Strode and Grey both enter.
Detective Grey remains stoic, his cold demeanor not faltering as I sit in the hospital bed. Detective Strode immediately passes me another glass of water before pulling his chair to my bedside, his eyes filled with concern when he spots the small cuts on my forehead.
“Summer, the hospital found my card on you when you were brought.” I nod, trying to concentrate on his words and ignoring the pains and aches rushing through my body. “What happened after you left the precinct?”
Leaning back into the firm pillow, I close my eyes for a moment, trying to remember everything. Looking at Detective Strode, I speak softly.
“I didn’t recognize where I was, so I pulled my phone out to call an Uber. I felt someone throw me into the alleyway, and I landed hard on my side. But then I’m not sure. I think I hit my head.”
I swallow hard. I try to argue in my head that I’m not lying, but I don’t want either of the detectives digging into my past with Harry, and I don’t want them giving him any confirmation of where I am or that I’ve been hurt. I know what I saw in that alleyway, but who the fuck is the second masked guy? I don’t want trouble. For some reason, he didn’t kill me, so the best thing I can do is not mention that part.
He did save me after all…
Detective Strode gently pats me on the hand, giving me a subtle nod.
“Ok, Summer, do you need me to call anyone?” He asks.
“No…I mean, no thank you, detective.”
A wave of panic rolls through me and I look away, feeling rude, but neither of the detectives say anything. They don’t press further, and both take their leave from the room. Feeling my head rest back into the pillow, I allow my eyes to close gently as the threat of weariness continues to linger over me.
Bhodi?
“Excuse me, detectives?” The young nurse treating Summer approaches us quietly, checking over her shoulder before gesturing for us to follow her into a private room. I eye Strode curiously before entering.
“Is everything ok?” I ask the nurse as she nervously chews on her lip.
“The young girl, Summer?” She begins.
“What about her?”
“I think she’s suffered abuse before the mugging.” Her gentle voice cracks slightly as I feel my fists clench.
“What makes you say that doc?” Strode asks with some concern, taking a step closer to the nurse.
“When we examined her, the bruises from the attack are consistent with her fall. But there are some older ones along her rib cage and arms, which look to be in different stages of healing.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, trying to remain calm. My teeth clenching.
“Pretty sure. She seems withdrawn, which isn’t uncommon in her state, but I just wanted to let you know.” The nurse offers a polite nod before leaving the room.
I see the cogs turning in Strode’s mind. I know something he can’t stand is men beating on women, something from his childhood that haunts him to this day.
“What should we do?” I ask curiously, wanting to see his reaction.
