The pain swirled around her in the darkness. Silently she prayed she would sink back into the sweet comfort of black unconsciousness. Annie could hear voices around her but couldn’t name them. Light burned through her eyelids and the muffled voices throbbed in her head, echoing into every dark corner. Her throat felt hot and dry and her tongue seemed to take up all the space in her mouth while oozing the bitter taste of blood and days old saliva.
A steady beep kept time somewhere behind her head. Slowly, it started to make sense. She pried her eyes open braving the searing brightness. The pain instantly swept through her and she sank back into the swirling blackness.
“It’s a good thing you found her when you did, James. Do you have any idea who would want to hurt her?” Dr. Dratton asked, the strain of the day showing in his aging face.
James solemnly shook his head as he wrung his worn Budweiser cap in his hands, still tattooed with Annie’s blood.
“You guys did a hell of a job getting her here. You must have been going pretty fast. Doesn’t matter though, being in your care and all.” Dr. Dratton let out a heavy sigh and continued talking, despite James’ obvious lack of any real response. “Most of the lacerations are on her scalp and the one across her cheek should fade with time. Her leg will heal nicely. It was a clean break and the surgeons did a hell of a job patching her up. I don’t know who did this to that poor girl, but whoever it was sure was an angry son of a bitch.”
A heavy and comforting hand found it’s place on James’s shoulder. With a squeeze, Dr. Dratton made his way back to the ER where there were more patients to see.
James couldn’t bring himself to move. He just sat, glued to the small chair in the hallway outside Annie’s room. Every last bit of strength he thought he had was spent getting Annie to the hospital, alive. He knew he cared for her as a partner, but seeing her like that broke something inside him and made him ache in his chest. He hadn’t felt that way since his brother died. James shuddered and pushed the memories back into their cages and locked them away. If he started thinking about Brett now he would certainly start crying, something he had managed to avoid for the last two and a half years.
“That stupid pis’ a shit, she’s been as’in for it for years. I figured I’d jus’ give dat bitch what she’s askin’ for.” The Jack Daniels on Trent’s tongue was evident in his words. The bartender at Jake’s had heard it time and time again. He knew Annie and liked her. In fact, he had often told her if she needed the extra cash, she could work a weekend shift or two for him. It was the same old story Trent had been telling for years. How he had “told her twice” and that she liked it. In all honesty, Ben would have loved to taken Trent out back and taught him what it was like to fight with someone his own damned size. He never did though. Times were tough and he needed this job. Despite his track record, Trent was in rare form tonight even for him. He was having himself a good old time and the wad of cash in his pocket made sure he kept having a good time. Ben never believed that Trent would really hurt Annie. Sure he shoved her now and then and got real nasty when she wouldn’t move fast enough for him, but he just figured it was all a show for the fellow patrons. Tonight was different though. Trent’s knuckles were raw and several of them continued to ooze as he knocked them against the bar, numb to the pain from the booze. Ben couldn’t help but say a prayer that it was a door and not Annie that was on the receiving end of those fists. With a shrug Ben decided it was none of his business if he didn’t see it himself. As if to punctuate his thoughts, Trent ordered another round. Nothing like getting shit-faced at four o’clock in the afternoon, he thought as he filled Trent’s glass to the brim.
