Page 53 of The Wrong Sister

“Griffin!” Auntie clutches at my arm, stopping short due to the police officer in front of me. They all crowd around, being respectful and quiet, but drawing close.

“Did you see him break her arm?”

I try to keep the emotion out of my voice, wanting to only relay the facts, but it’s a losing battle when it concerns Mina. “No. He stepped in front of her, blocking my view. I heard her scream and ran towards them. He had his hand around her throat. Then, uh, he punched her in the face as we took him down.”

“How exactly did you take him down?”

“I jumped on his back and he let go of her throat. Mina kicked him in the groin and I stayed on his back, keeping him in a chokehold until you guys showed up.”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Miss Brookner. Not even a broken arm can keep her from kicking ass.” I smile, barely. “I’ll come by tomorrow to check on Mina and get her statement.” He stands, tucking his notebook back into his pocket. “I know it’s not much consolation, but he won’t be coming near her any time soon.”

I expect chaos to descend, but our families are subdued. Likely sobered by hearing our conversation. Our moms are holding hands, arms wrapped around their husbands’ waists. Rafferty and Catherine are sitting in adjoining chairs, hands clasped tightly. I look at all their faces, lined with worry. I’m glad they’re here.

“Griffin?” Catherine asks.”What happened?”

I tell them about the call and what transpired afterward, up to the point of the story they already heard. “It was a bad break.” I rub a hand down my face wearily. “She’s in surgery because bones broke through the skin. They need to make sure everything is clean and set right. That’s all I know at this point. I don’t know if there’s any damage to her throat. Or her face. There was a lot of swelling. They wouldn’t let me go back with her.” I clench my jaw. I can feel myself crashing hard now that the adrenaline is waning. My dad eyes me seriously and gives Uncle a curt nod.

“We’ll be back with coffee. Text me if you hear anything.”

Rafferty looks shellshocked, hands shaking. “I didn’t think he was the violent type. I should have taken him more seriously. That fake date probably made things worse…” his voice trails off and Catherine scoots closer, wrapping her arm around him. I know I should say something to him, be comforting in some way, let him know it wasn’t his fault, but I’m too busy thinking the same thing. I should have taken Troy more seriously.

The dads come back with terrible hospital coffee for everyone in little paper cups that are almost too hot to hold. I down mine quickly, my burning throat a different pain to focus on. Finally, a nurse comes out of the double doors.

“Mina Brookner’s boyfriend?”

I rush forward. “That’s me. Is she ok? Can I see her?”

“You’re the one that brought her in?” I nod anxiously. “Officer Mix told me to find you. The surgery is done. She’ll be in recovery, then they’ll move her to a room. I can come back and let you know when she can have visitors, once she’s settled.” I thank her and turn to see everyone staring at me. I’m not sure who I’m supposed to address first and I can’t find it in me to care. None of this shit matters. I only want to see Mina. I need to see that she’s okay. I collapse back into my chair.

Her dad breaks the silence. “Mina Brookner’s boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I say simply. There’s nothing else to say. He eyes me carefully, his expression serious.

“Good.”

Auntie and Mom sit in the chairs facing me, wrapping my hands in theirs. Rafferty has his arm around Catherine now and she’s leaning against him, chewing on her fingernails, worry creasing around her eyes. I see the moms watching the two of them and giving each other knowing glances. Maybe I’ll think about what their looks could mean later. Right now, Mina is my every thought. She’s the only thing I care about.

32

mina

I wake up slowly, in strange stages. It’s as if I’m swimming to the surface of the ocean through overlapping sets of waves. I can tell I’m getting closer, the filtered light is getting clearer, but it takes much longer to get there than I anticipated. My muddled brain gets worried that I’ll run out of oxygen before I break through to the surface and I jolt awake in a panic, my hand scratching at my throat, wheezing and terrified.

“Mina, it’s ok! You’re ok. Breathe nice and slow for me.” The voice is low and calming and the touch that accompanies it is like a balm smoothed over raw skin, soothing my waking anxiety. I crack an eye open, the only one I seem to be able to open, and Griffin’s handsome face comes into focus. He looks exhausted. His grey eyes are shadowed with prominent purple half-moons underneath them, scruff on its way to becoming legitimate facial hair, and his hair looks like he’s been raking his fingers through it all night. This should not be the reason I get to see him all mussed. I don’t like it. I try to say his name but my throat is dry and painful. I only manage a croak. Griffin grabs a cup, bringing a straw to my lips. The cool water is heaven-sent.

“Troy?” Swallowing around fire is miserable and talking is worse.

“Try not to talk, baby. He’s in jail. Officer Mix will be by sometime today to get your statement.”

“Pressing charges.” It takes forever to get that out.

“Good.” There’s fire in his eyes and the set of his jaw is stern. Very unlike my Griffin. He tends to be more stoic. Calm. Rational. “I think you’ll be going home today. That’s what it sounded like anyway. Our families were here, but I had them go home overnight. Once you were settled in your room it seemed unnecessary for them to be dozing in the waiting room.”

A nurse bustles in and checks my vitals. “How’s your pain?”

I let my one functioning eye close, allowing myself to feel. There’s my throat. My right arm hurts. A lot. There’s deep pain in my face and my muscles ache. “8,” I croak out.

“Arm, throat, face?”

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