“And he can stay, but I am going to need you on the bed.”
I can give into this demand, finally accepting that she’s safe here. I know that if there is anyone else that wants to cause her problems, they’re going to have to battle their way through the more than a dozen Cerberus members that are only feet away on the other side of the curtain.
As gently as I can manage, I place Faith on the bed, keeping within arm’s reach of her in case she needs me again.
He gives instructions for her to strip down and put on a hospital gown, but then quickly disappears before I can tell him to get lost.
“I’ll be right out here. Just let me know when you’re ready,” Dr. Weinstein says as he leaves the area.
Faith looks down at the gown sitting on the end of the bed like it’s the biggest challenge she’s ever faced.
I lift it silently before stepping up to the side of the bed. She does her best to help me remove her wet clothing, and I want to kill Susan Felding with each and every removed piece of clothing that reveals a bruise or scrape.
“My shoulder,” she says, drawing my attention to the big bruise there.
“Can you move it?” She does, but it makes her face pinch with pain.
“I’m not a doctor, baby, but I don’t think it’s dislocated.”
She nods, her lips clamped between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying out. It kills me a little more each time she moans. I have to rip her blouse away on one side as to not interfere with the IV the medics placed.
When I finally have the gown covering her body and the blanket pulled up to her chin, I call out to the doctor. He reenters immediately and begins his assessment. I’m a ball of rage by the time he’s done cataloging her injuries, documenting each one on a tablet.
“I don’t think you’re in danger of hypothermia. Your temperature is ninety-six degrees, and we don’t get too worried unless it falls below ninety-five.”
The one-degree difference doesn’t instill a lot of confidence in the situation.
“I would like to keep you here overnight for observation and get an X-ray on that shoulder. Your other injuries are superficial and will heal quickly.”
Faith nods, her eyes heavy with exhaustion from her trauma.
After giving details about moving her to a private room, the doctor leaves.
“You don’t have to stay,” she says. “I’ll be fine.”
I glare at her before I can reel in my irritation with her thinking for a second, I’d leave her side.
“I’m not going anywhere, Faith. You’re fuc—you’re stuck with me.”
She gives me a weak smile as her eyes flutter closed.
I want her to rest, but she jerks awake minutes later, eyes wide and terrified.
“You’re safe, baby. Get some sleep.”
With one finger, I rub her arms, avoiding the scrapes and bruises as best I can. I held this woman tightly to my chest for over an hour during the travel from the barn she was held captive in and the hospital, and that must’ve caused her great pain considering all the areas on her body that have injuries. I feel like a complete asshole for not listening to the medics when they urged me to put her down.
“Who was she?” Faith asks, tears streaming down her face from whatever nightmare woke her up.
“Susan Felding,” I tell her, knowing that trying to avoid this topic will only do more harm than good.
She shakes her head as if she’s trying to push memories away to draw the correct one.
“That was a civil and criminal case. I only pulled it because the dad had a history of drug abuse.” She swallows before continuing, her fingers tracing the blanket pulled around her as if the texture of the fabric is keeping her grounded in the moment. “The dad went to prison, and the mom lost custody because of allegations that she was aware of ongoing sexual abuse. She said babies.”
“What?”
“She accused me of having her babies taken. Those children were older. I was attorney ad litem on that case, appointed by the judge. Neither of the parents were clients of mine. The court didn’t prove the allegations against the mom, but the judge asked the children what they wanted, and neither of them wanted to return home. There was enough neglect that the court removed them. She didn’t lose her rights at the time, but I didn’t keep up with the case.”
“She lost her rights recently, and the foster family who took them in have petitioned the court for adoption.”
She nods as if my explanation makes sense.
“Are they good people?”
“I hope so,” I tell her because I just don’t have a real answer for her. “We can find out soon. I’ll have Max research them.”