Page 2 of The Book of Wrath

Ally looked at me and grabbed her stuff. “I’ll go get us coffee and get you something to eat.” She nodded at Arthur and walked out of the room.

“I’m sorry to have her leave like this, but I want you to feel comfortable telling me what happened,” he took a seat next to me and waited patiently. “It’s okay if you don’t remember everything.” He reassured me. So, I took a deep breath and started from the beginning. The tears rolled down my face as I recounted the entire situation. By the time I was done, I felt a gaping hole in my chest. Someone I have spent the last 5 years of my life with, hid such a darkness from me. How did I not see this? Why did I ignore all my friends and family who told me he was wrong for me? He was my blind spot.

“I want to say this first and foremost, you are not responsible for what happened to you. You should be able to express your emotions in your relationship and not have a fear of something happening to you,” he spoke softly. I could tell he’s had to have this conversation before. “Now that I know what happened, that explains a few of the things I was wondering about. You have a few broken ribs and a cracked sternum which, I’m sure you already know.” He looked at me as if he knew I was up during the night, and I’ve read the reports left in the room.

“It hurts to take in a full breath but I’m assuming that’s why,” I replied. I couldn’t look this man in the eyes anymore. I felt too exposed and ashamed.

“There isn’t much we can do in terms of surgery for your sternum or ribs. The best option is lots of rest and pain management. It can take 8 to 12 weeks to heal. As for the cuts and bruises, they should be gone in a few days, maybe a week or so. My biggest concern is the small fractures on your skull from the impacts. There could be some bleeding on the brain that I would like to check for. Same with the knots and cuts on the back of your skull. I want to make sure the swelling goes down and that the stitches are holding properly. I want to do a few scans in a couple of days to check on the healing status if you’re okay with it. I don’t want to send you home just yet,” he looked over at the door as if waiting for someone to come in.

“I don’t really have an option, do I?” I asked him. Looking around the room, I noticed the flowers and cards on the window. I wonder who they’re from?

“I would say no, you don’t have an option in this. I get that you may not want to be here any longer than you have to, but this is important to make sure you are safe and that you will wake up the next day. I can update your emergency contact card, or I can have the nurse update it later on today if you’d like,” he said. His honesty was refreshing. At least he wasn’t going to sugar coat it. There’s a chance I could die in my sleep if not monitored.

“If you could just add Ally Strom and Alice Monroe to my emergency contact card that would be perfect. I’ll ask Ally to give the nurse her information when she gets back.” I paused, looking at Dr. Arthur. “Thank you, for being honest with me.” He smiled and nodded.

“I’m just going to leave this paperwork here for you to look at when you’re ready. It includes all information regarding pain management. Take your time and try to rest. There are some officers who would like to speak with you when you’re ready. I’ll tell them to come back later on this afternoon,” he smiled at me and stood up. I nodded my thanks and looked out the window again. I heard him leave and shut the door behind him. I sighed.

My life as I knew it had changed in a matter of seconds. Who knows what will happen next.

Chapter 2

Megan

The days dragged on in this damn place. Nurses in and out at all hours of the night. Check my blood pressure, checking my temperature, asking me how I’m feeling, changing bandages, and fussing over me. I didn’t like it. This was not the person I was. I didn’t like people worrying about me or trying to take care of me. It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t worth it.

Dr. Arthur had been in an hour ago to check on me and order another CT scan to make sure that there is still no bleeding on the brain or anything worse. I swear I am done with hospitals and doctors after this. Not that he wasn’t easy on the eyes. He truly was. I thought of Ryan almost nightly. Reliving the fight over and over again in my head. Ally says I need to stop thinking about it and that he was just seven levels of bad. I mean, she wasn’t wrong.

How many times a week did he text me saying I was worthless, useless, and horrible in bed? How many times in a month have I been accused of cheating on him with a friend or some random person online? How many times did he tell me that I said something I swear I never said?

What about all those things he would say when he was drunk? He would act as if nothing had happened. I never really thought about it, but he blamed me for every bad thing in his life. Didn’t matter if I was even part of his life at the time the bad shit happened to him. It was my fault. No wonder his one ex tried to message me. He always told me it was his exes’ fault the relationships never worked out. They cheated, they did drugs, they abandoned him in his time of need. I believed every word of it. Isn’t this the definition of gaslighting?

My sister Alice has stopped by a few times over the last two days to check in on me and to tell me she was right about him and that I needed to listen to her younger sibling wisdom. I told her that wasn’t a thing and she got pouty. I mean, she was right. I could admit it to her at least. Our parents on the other hand, no. Fuck that. I was not about to give my mother ammunition to hold over my head for the rest of my life. I’m still reminded of a car accident I was in 15 years ago. No thank you. Our family never let anything go. You fuck up once, it’s like you have a police record with the family to be used against you any time you make one small fucked up decision.

Our parents hadn’t come to see me yet. I knew eventually they would if I didn’t answer our mothers phone calls soon. Nothing against her, I just don’t have the energy to talk with anyone right now. Talking with the cops was as much energy as I was willing to give out at the moment.

Alice still sat in the chair, staring off at the tv as she flicked through the limited number of channels that we had available to us. It was 2 pm on a Tuesday, there wasn’t shit on except for reruns of Supernatural. Not complaining when she finally settles on the comfort show. Dean flashed across the screen, and I tried to remember the episode and what happened in it. Alice sighed at my side.

“You good?” I asked her, prying my eyes away from the handsome men on the tv. I was never a Sam girl, but I could see why people thought he was attractive.

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m okay?” she asked me. I guess I should’ve expected that. I know she was upset when she came into the room earlier. I know her. She isn’t going to let me have a moment of peace until I am safe and home and my face back to normal.

“Clearly, you’re sighing and huffing. And you stopped on Supernatural. It may be one of my favorite shows, but you couldn’t stand this show when it was on,” I say dryly to her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she sighed again. “I don’t like seeing you like this. I don’t like thinking that he hurt you. Mom got a call from his mom this morning. She was asking about you and how you are doing. She is worried about you. She isn’t happy with what he did to you, but she is afraid to come here,” Alice said. I can just imagine how our mother reacted to that phone call. I rolled my eyes. His mom wasn’t bad, she even tried to warn me. I should’ve at least listened to her.

“Great so mom is probably in such an amazing mood today,” I rolled my eyes and looked back over at the TV. Sam and Dean were arguing with Cas. Damn I wish I could remember what this episode was about!"

“Are you really focusing on the show right now?” she screeched at me. I rolled my eyes and looked at her.

“Yes, I am. I am tired. I have been stuck in a fucking hospital room and bed for days. I’ve had to relive the bullshit over and over and over. I know when I get out or when I finally talk to mom I will have to relive it over again because everyone loves to know details and put in their two cents about how they were right, and I should’ve saw the fucking signs. When you’re in it, you have fucking blinders on. If me trying to have some control by watching a show is a problem, please by all means, leave.” I snapped. She looked at me mouth agape like I said her dog got hit by a bus.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about any of that,” she said quietly. And now I feel guilty again for speaking my mind. This shit is getting old. A knock came at my door and had my head snapping.

“Come in,” I called, suspicion rising. No nurses were due any time soon and very few people, as far as I knew, had a clue I was here. A tall, fit man walked into the room. Dark blue jeans, a tight black T-shirt and brown boots made their way to my bedside. His ocean blue eyes and light chestnut brown hair made him look like Dean Winchester met Chris Evans and had a baby. Who the hell was this?

“Pardon my intrusion,” he had a slight southern draw to his deep velvety voice. “I was wondering if I could talk to you Miss. Monroe.” The way my name slipped off his tongue was like pure fucking sin. Did I have a thing for a southern accent.

“You are?” my sister questioned from the other side of me, and I wanted to shoot her the biggest warning glare I could muster up.

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