Page 33 of Kid
“I’ll be okay—I’m Nella Ortiz. Thanks for stopping, by the way.”
“Helen Sampson.” She replied, holding up my eyelids to peer into my eyes. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? I guess if you’re speaking then you’re good for now.”
Helen checked my pulse while looking at her watch, then she felt along my spine and my ribs.
The cops and ambulance arrived with the fire department, and Helen helped me back to the scene. The EMTs set to work looking at me while the fire department helped the driver out of the car while attempting to recap the hydrant.
The moment the driver was free, he scrambled from them and ran—more like stumbling away as fast as he could.
A couple of cops took off after him while I explained what happened. I left out my missing nephew knowing he may get hurt if I invited the police in on what was happening.
The story was simple—I was supposed be taken to my mother’s place. I gave them the address and the cops arched their brows.
“That’s in the other direction.” One pointed out.
“Yes. I realized we were going the wrong way.” I continued. “I asked him to pull over, but he just locked the doors and sped up.”
“Okay, we’re going to let the EMT’s take you to the hospital.”
Though I wanted to complain and get back to Kid, I allowed the EMT to take me after I gave Helen one of my business cards. As a rather muscular EMT helped me into the ambulance, I noticed the cops had found my would-be kidnapper. He looked like he had his ass kicked—his face was red, and skin was pealing.
I wondered what the hell was in the canister.
I wanted to sniff it but when I noticed the canister on the ground, I couldn’t pick it up. Instead, I used my heel to push it into a nearby drain.
Just in case it was something illegal, I didn’t want to have to explain where I’d gotten it.
No cannister.
No evidence.
After I went through a battery of testing at the hospital, I was admitted.
They wanted to keep me overnight then test me a couple more times for signs of a concussion.
Once I was settled in a room on my own, I called Kid.
“You’re where?” He asked.
“Don’t freak out.” I implored him. “I’m fine. The doctors are keeping me out of an abundance of caution, but I feel fine.”
“Nella…”
I sighed. “St. Theresa Memorial.”
“I’m on my way.” Kid hung up.
Maybe I should have started out by telling him not to panic. Instead, I’d dropped my location on him, not even thinking he’d lose his shit.
I sighed again while slumping into the pillows.
I’d wanted to ask him to bring me some clothes. What I’d been wearing was torn and covered in my blood.
They’d stripped me down and redressed me in one of those weird hospital gowns that left very little to the imagination.
I didn’t want Kid seeing me like this—haggard, battered and bruised, weak—no bra.
When the nurse popped in to check on me, I smiled at her.
