Page 38 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

I walk in and shut the door behind me. “Kendra?” I call out to the silent house.

Maybe she’s sleeping?

Taking in the space again, it feels wrong. I know the girls all got ready here, but this mess is not just from them. It looks like things were tossed on the floor in a way that doesn’t add up with a bridal party or Kendra’s normal neatness.

Kitchen stools are knocked over.

When I look at the fridge there is a dark red smudge at my chest height and something about it sends a shiver up my spine.

“Kendra!” I yell this time, moving down the hallway quickly, determined to find her, praying she will be pissed at me for waking her up safe and sound in her bed.

An animalistic roar leaves me when I rush into the living room and find Kendra unmoving, crumpled and bloody on the floor. Her pretty blue dress is tattered and torn; her beautiful face is so swollen it would be hard to know it was her.

I drop to my knees beside her and reach for her right wrist.

Please, God, please give me a pulse.

A slow, languid thump taps under my fingers as I pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1.

“9-1-1 what’s your emergency?”

“Yeah, this is Captain Eli Hargrove—I am at 517 Dogwood Lane. I need an ambulance. Unconscious woman, Kendra Powell, twenty-eight, severely beaten, unresponsive, low pulse. I don’t know how long she has been out.”

“Okay. Yes, sir, they are five minutes out. Do you want us to stay on the line with you until they are there?”

“No, I got this, just tell them to hurry the fuck up.”

I hang up the phone and go unlock the front door, quickly taking up my place next to Kendra again.

“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.” My eyes keep scanning her body, assessing the damage. The more I look, the more enraged I become. Blood, scrapes, a split lip. Bruises are blooming all over her delicate skin. Her left arm is obviously broken, so I hold her right hand and stroke the back of it gently. And that is only what I can see with my eyes, who knows what damage is done internally.

I am going to murder that motherfucker.

The comforting peal of sirens in the distance means that help is close. And not just help from anyone, from my FGFD family.

Kendra lets out a pained moan from the floor, barely squeezing my hand.

“Don’t move, sweetheart. Please stay still, the ambulance is coming.” I rasp out the words.

“Eli?” Kendra croaks, her voice hardly audible.

“I’m right here, it’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t go,” she says, a tear dripping from her swollen eye.

“Promise, I am never leaving you again, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.’’ I lift up her hand and kiss the back of it as flashing lights illuminate us through the living room windows. “Thank fuck.”

Two of our EMTs, Eric Collins and Fiona Gentry, burst through the front door. Relief pours over me. I want to get Kendra the hell out of here and to the hospital. I am terrified of internal bleeding or other complications.

“Talk to us,” Eric says.

“She left the reception a couple hours ago with her date, he drove her home. I just got back to my place and saw her lights still on. I came over to talk to her, the back door wasn’t fully shut when I knocked, and I found her like, like this. Fuck.” I run my hands over my face as they get to work on Kendra. It’s hard to stay out of their way, to not be touching her.

“I was so fucking tempted to put her in my truck and take her in myself,” I admit.

“You did the right thing, Eli,” Fiona says calmly. “She could have major internal injuries, and we definitely needed to get this neck brace on her,” she says, carefully placing the C-collar around Kendra’s neck.

I feel like I’m going to be sick watching them. This shouldn’t be happening. I should have insisted on being the one to take Kendra home. I should have never let her leave with that asshole. He had been making her uncomfortable all night, had been staring daggers at me.