Page 86 of Objection
“Got it. I’ll come see you at the hospital shortly,” he assured before walking back away.
Finally, I was allowed to pull Posey carefully back into my arms. I held her head to my chest, reveling in having her safe by my side again. Grateful, to shield her from the sight of them carrying the black body bag that held David’s body down the stairs. She didn’t need to see that. She had dealt with enough today.
We were both loaded into the ambulance, together, after my great protest. It was a long night after that, with being treated, stitched, and tested, followed by questioning from Detective Merrick.
Thankfully, as I held Posey’s hand tight in mine, it did come to an end, and we were allowed to go home. When we arrived, we both broke. Together in the middle of the foyer, we broke down together, in each other’s arms.
It would be okay, it would. Just not right now. For now, holding one another in the middle of the cold foyer floor was enough.
26
Posey
One cracked rib.
One mild concussion.
Ten stitches.
And one shattered soul.
In one hour, David had broken me. The hospital smelled like strong antiseptic and overly bleached surfaces. The lights were too bright. The place was cold and uncomfortable, just like any other emergency room you would visit. Soren was in the space next to me, separated only by a curtain that had been drawn, much to his chagrin.
The few moments alone were as blissful as they were frightening.
The police had been pacing the hallway just beyond our little make-shift cubicles while we were being treated. The EMT, I think her name was Trish, if I overheard the nurses correctly, she had made sure we wouldn’t be bothered until we were fully checked out and ready to give our statements.
“Are you done yet?” Soren’s voice came through the curtain. His frustration was palpable.
“Okay, okay. All done, but please —” The nurse’s words were cut off as Soren flung open the curtain, a bandage wrapped around his midsection covering the slash mark from David’s knife. He hadn’t even taken the time to redress after being treated.
“Posey,” his voice held all manner of hope and longing and something else that was incredibly reminiscent of guilt.
I gave him a small smile, but when he quickly walked towards me, I flinched. I don’t know why I flinched. This was Soren. Not David.
The look of hurt on his face broke me even further than I had been before.
“I…” I trailed off, trying to find words to an unknown emotion I was incapable of naming. Instead, tears welled up in my eyes, the shame overpowering any other emotion.
“Posey, may I hold you?” he asked with such ridiculous kindness and understanding that I only cried harder. He waited until I nodded my head, reaching my arms out for him. He held me with a gentleness, yet with a safety that I needed more than anything.
“You were so brave, Posey,” he whispered against my temple. My tears were quieting quickly. I think the shock of everything was settling in, almost as though my brain was telling my body to push it aside until I was stronger and had the ability to truly process all that had happened. That was not the case right now, however.
“I’m serious. You did amazing tonight and I’m so proud of you.”
“I am so tired, Soren,” I sighed against his shoulder, holding him as tight as my ribcage would allow.
“Oh, God, I didn’t even ask. How is your stomach? Are you okay? Did it harm any of your organs?” I asked, suddenly overwhelmed with concern. I moved my hands to his bandaged waist, worried that there was some terrible damage beneath it.
“Calm down, Posey. I’m fine. It’s a deep cut that has some stitches, but no major damage. He couldn’t get the right angle to stab the knife into me and slashed instead, thank God.”
“Thank God, indeed. I don’t know what I’d do if —”
“Ssh, Posey. I’m here. You’re here. We are both safe. What was the final word on your injuries?” He asked, pushing my hair from my forehead carefully.
“A mild concussion, ten stitches over the back of my head, and one cracked rib. All in all, it could have been much, much worse,” I spoke, my eyes staring into his, worried that if I closed my eyes he would vanish, and this moment of gratitude would turn into one of tragedy.
“I’m glad it wasn’t worse. Now we just need to get these people to let us go home.”
