Page 24 of Baja
I don’t know Juneau well, but he looks like he’s two seconds away from losing it. “It’s okay,” I try to assure him.
He shakes his head. “Nothin’ about this is okay.”
“I suppose not,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Beside me, Sukie squeezes my hand. She’s been quiet through the whole process, but I can see the worry in her eyes. I shake her hand slightly, urging her gaze to meet mine. “I’m fine.”
Sukie’s bottom lip trembles, blinking away tears threatening to spill because she’s trying to be strong. I cup her cheek and brush away a stray tear with my thumb.
“I’m sorry, Momma,” she croaks.
“Stop. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Luckily, Juneau uses that moment to interrupt. “The cut above your eye and your cheek won’t need stitches, but I want you to keep the strips on for a few days. Try not to get them wet.”
“Okay.”
Juneau takes his gloves off and tosses them on the tray with the blood-soaked gauze. I notice his approach turns hesitant before he asks his next question, “Alice, are you okay with me taking a look at your ribs?”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I nod.
With a gentle touch, Juneau raises the hem of my T-shirt, and I suck in a sharp breath at the same time. Sukie gasps, and I do my best to stay still while Juneau applies light pressure along the left side of my torso.
“How’s your breathing?” he asks. “Any difficulty?”
“No.”
“That’s good. I don’t think any of your ribs are broken, but if the pain gets worse, come back and see me.”
“Okay,” I say for the hundredth time.
The truth is, I’m an expert at compartmentalizing my emotions. I’m holding a tight rein on them to keep from breaking down in front of Sukie and Juneau. As a mother, I refuse to let my daughter see me lose control. I’ll save my breakdown for when I’m alone. On the inside, I’m desperate to crawl out of my skin. I keep thinking about Ricky’s touch. I swear I can still feel his hands on me. The only thing keeping me grounded is the smell of laundry detergent and pine radiating from Baja’s T-shirt, which covers my body and is my only saving grace. I push away all thoughts of Ricky and allow Baja’s scent to bring me the comfort I so desperately seek.
“Would you like me to give you something for the pain and to help you relax?” Juneau asks, effectively bringing me back to the present.
“I’d appreciate that.” My words come out soft. Then I add, “Am I good to go?”
Juneau stands and makes his way to a cabinet across the room. “I’m sorry, Alice, but I can’t let you leave.”
I’m taken aback by his admission. He’s ruled out a concussion and broken ribs, so I see no reason why I can’t leave. “I want to go home.” I need to get the hell out of here before I lose it.
“I don’t want you staying by yourself, Mom,” Sukie cuts in. “You can stay with me and Harlem so I can look after you.”
Shaking my head, I go to argue with Sukie when Juneau interjects, “Alice stays here.”
“That’s not your call,” I bite back, my voice sharp with anger because I’m desperate for an escape.
“No. It’s Baja’s call. Seeing you’re his woman, and he wants you here, that’s the only call that matters.”
Did he call me Baja’s woman?
Ignoring the crazy admission spewed from Juneau’s mouth, I turn to Sukie. “Will you give me a ride?”
Sukie looks uncomfortable as her eyes flick back and forth between me and Juneau. “Maybe you should stay here and wait for Baja.”
I give Sukie my best no-nonsense mom look. A look that has her avoiding eye contact as she lowers her head.
I’m about to open my mouth and argue when the door bursts open. Instantly, the air in the room goes static as Baja’s large form fills the doorframe. He doesn’t spare Juneau or Sukie a glance because his whole attention zeros in on me. I watch his eyes roam over my body, assessing every square inch. His chest heaves and his nostrils flare. There is no missing the way his jaw ticks as his gaze lingers on my bruised and swollen face. Down by his side, his finger twitches. Though the movement is subtle, it’s enough to draw attention to his cracked and slightly swollen knuckles.
