Page 54 of The Wrong Sister

I nod gingerly. “Face…deep.”

“Your eye socket is fractured. It’s hairline but that’s what you’re feeling. I have pain meds for you and the surgeon who worked on your arm is set to come to speak to you this morning.” She raises the bed slightly and adjusts my pillows, shooting Griffin a grin. “Your man over there has been a real thorn in my side! Asking me questions he knew I couldn’t answer since he’s not family, refusing to leave your side…a real pain.”

“Pualani, it hurts to hear that from my favorite nurse.” Griffin is joking with her, but none of the humor reaches his eyes. I know him well enough to see how forced it is, but I appreciate that he’s trying.

“You’ll have to find another favorite, I’m headed home!” She gets my medication administered and says goodbye, leaving us alone again. Griffin’s chair is pulled up close to the bed and he resumes his position, holding my left hand.

“The medicine will probably make you feel tired. Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

I gesture for the pad of paper and pen on the tray and write a note, grateful for maybe the first time ever that I’m left-handed.

Will you text everyone? Update them? And ask them not to come back. I only want to do whatever has to be done to get out of here and go home. I’d rather see them later after I’m out of here.

“I’m on it.”

The rest of the day is a dull haze. The surgeon talks to me about my arm. I’ll have to come back in a week to have the swelling assessed before I get a cast. I’ve always thought of broken bones as no big deal and it’s sobering to have it all laid out for me. It will likely be a couple of months before I’m out of a cast, but it could be as long as two years before I regain full mobility. I’ll need physical therapy too. I hate to think of all of the muscle loss that’s going to happen. Luckily my throat is only bruised. Some rest and anti-inflammatories for the swelling and I’ll be fine.

I also speak with some kind of eye doctor. I’ve already forgotten the details. Thankfully Griffin was taking notes for me. All I know is that I need to see her in two weeks. She wants to wait out the swelling but I’ll need another X-ray to see how it’s healing. Fingers crossed that I won’t need to do anything else for that. I tried to turn when I saw his fist coming at me. I think my cheekbone and temple took the brunt of the blow. I have a feeling, that if he had hit me where he intended, we’d be dealing with a much different scenario. I’m very thankful we’re not talking about bone fragments and a displaced eyeball.

All things considered, this could have been much worse. I should have trusted my instincts. My stupidity could have gotten more than myself hurt. Thank God Griffin had been in the car! It makes me feel sick imagining what Troy would have done if he had seen him there, how much worse that anger would have been directed at him instead of me.

Mid-afternoon brings Kawika and we go through the whole incident again, fleshing out my statement. I’m adamant about pressing charges and he’s very supportive. My hand aches by the time we finish. I don’t think I would have made it if I had to tell him all of it out loud. Thinking about it was bad enough.

I knew everything felt off but I let the ‘what if’ keep me on that porch far longer than I should have stayed.

What if there is someone in trouble?

What if they were brave enough to call me and I left because the vibe was weird?

I’d never forgive myself. So I waited. But the last person I expected to see coming toward the duplex was Troy. The smile on his face made my stomach clench, too much saliva pooling in my mouth like I was about to vomit. All I kept thinking is, “You really thought a restraining order was going to keep this fucker away? You deserve this for being that stupid.” Even then, I wasn’t scared. Oh no, not me. Not Strong Mina. I’d calmly and rationally explain, for the millionth time, that he’s not for me, and we’d be cool. Troy, the minor inconvenience.

But the closer he got to me, the clearer the situation became. Mr. Minor Inconvenience got me out here, on a bogus call, alone—at least as far as he knew. That level of desperation didn’t match with merely being an annoyance. And that’s when I started to worry.

It doesn’t matter how much I don’t want to, when I close my eyes I can hear his voice as he stepped toward me.

“See, Mina? I knew those other guys were no good for you. If you had been with me, where you belong, you wouldn’t even be in this bad neighborhood, alone. I would have protected you. I wouldn’t have even let you get in such a dangerous situation. You’re far too small and delicate! You need to be kept safe by the right man.” I held my hands out in front of me, trying to placate him, but stupidly felt the need to remind him that we’d already established he was not the right man for me. His smile took on a frightening edge. “You just need a strong hand, someone to look after you, and a reminder about how a lady is supposed to act. Calling the cops on me was not a nice move, Mina. It was unnecessary and you made me look bad. Did you know when they found out I got arrested, I lost my job? That’s. On. You.”His eyes got harder with each staccato word, an unearned superior expression on his face. “So I expect you to make it up to me, nice and sweetly, on your knees, the way the right man deserves.” Bile rose in my throat and he stepped closer, blocking out my view of everything on the street but him.

And then impulsive, mouthy, Mean Mina made the wrong choice.

“I would rather die by a million tiny papercuts than get within a mile of your cock you obstinate asshole! Get a fucking clue!”

The switch from smug indulgence to white-hot fury was instantaneous. Suddenly he wasn’t merely standing close enough that I was gagging on his body odor, he was snapping the arm that was extended between us and choking me.

I blink away unwanted tears, scribbling out the end as quickly as possible and dropping the pen. Between my injuries and Griffin as a witness, he should be in jail for a while. It’s a bright spot in a grim day.

It feels as if we’re in a holding pattern, wasting the day while waiting for my release paperwork. We’re both exhausted, my head is fuzzy from the medicine, and all I want is my own bed. When the day nurse finally comes in with the stack of papers, I’m internally dancing. Externally I manage a grimace that was supposed to be a smile. I sign everywhere I’m supposed to and Griffin stacks everything that needs to come home with me.

“You’ll need to stop down at the pharmacy before you leave. Do you have someone that can check in on you?”

Griffin answers for me. “I’ll be with her. She won’t be alone.” The nurse gives a curt nod and my eyes get watery. Emotions, pain, fatigue…I’m sure they’re all playing a part in how overwhelmed I feel right now. “How about I go down and get the prescriptions while you’re resting? Then when you’re finally allowed to leave, we can leave.” I squeeze his hand gratefully.

I swear it’s barely been 10 minutes when I hear the door open. I have to turn my entire head to check it since it’s on my bad side. My intended joke about the quick trip dies in my swollen throat. It isn’t Griffin. It’s Troy.

Tears spring to my eyes and my fingers start shaking. How is he here? I’m frantically swiping my left hand over the blanket, searching for the call button, but I can’t find it and I’m too scared to take my eye off of him. He’s holding a stuffed bear and he brings it closer, the smile on his face making my stomach hurt.

“Mina, this is all your fault, you know.”

He walks closer with every word until he’s resting his hand on my shin. I want to scream at him. I want to rage. I want to rip his hand off of me—rip it right off of his body and shove it down his throat so I don’t have to listen to him talk anymore. Instead, tears start streaming down my face as I gulp for air. I’m trapped and helpless and alone.

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