Page 66 of Something that Could Last

“Sir, we need to get her into the truck and assess her.”

I don’t respond; I just climb into the back with her in my arms and lay her on the gurney. She drifts in and out of consciousness but reaches for me when I lay her down.

“Sshh, I’m right here,” I assure her.

“Are you family?” the EMT asks.

I look at him and lie without blinking. “Yes,” I answer sternly, leaving no room for argument. If he can tell I’m lying, he lets it slide.

“We need to get a statement,” someone interjects, and I notice an officer standing at the back entrance of the ambulance, talking to the other EMT.

“You’ll have to get it at the hospital,” the EMT answers shortly. “She’s drifting in and out.” At that, the back doors slam shut and we head towards the nearest emergency room.

Abby

BEEP.

Beep.

Beep.

Where is that incessant beeping coming from, and how do I make it stop? Seriously, why won’t anybody turn that damn thing off? And why does my bed feel weird? These aren’t my sheets. My sheets are soft and worn. These are stiff and scratchy. And my bedroom doesn’t smell like antiseptic.

Beep, beep, beep.

My eyes fly open and I sit straight up when it finally dawns on me that I’m not at home. I instantly regret it, though, when the artificial lighting pierces through my retinas straight into my brain. I shut my eyes against the offending light and press the heel of my hand to my forehead.Damn, my head hurts. What the hell happened?

“She’s awake,” a hushed voice announces, followed by the sound of shuffling feet.

“Abigail.” I feel my grandmother place her hand softly on my back.

“Enisi, where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital, sweetheart.”

“Why? What happened?” I mentally catalogue every part of my body. Except for my head, everything feels fine.Oh no, do I have a head injury? How long have I been asleep? Was I in a coma?I start to panic until I hear my brother’s voice.

“That son of a bitch Caleb roofied you.”

“Ethan!” my grandmother scolds him for cussing. If she only knew the foul mouth that boy has on him.

“Where’s Jacob?” I pray he’s not in jail for killing Caleb. If I’m here, that means he must know what Caleb did to me, and I know he’d never let that go unanswered.

“He’s out in the lobby, pacing the floor, about to lose his shit,” Ethan answers. My grandma just sighs and shakes her head.

“Why isn’t he in here?”

“Enisi made him take a break and let me come back to sit with you. Two visitor policy,” he explains, mouth flattened in annoyance. “She practically had to pry his fingers off the bed rail.” He chuckles and she scowls.

“I want to see him.”

Ethan nods and walks out the door. Not even a minute passes before Jacob barrels into my room, chest heaving and eyes wide with worry.

“Abby.” He rushes to my bedside and pulls me into his arms. I press my face into his chest and inhale his scent. Manly, woodsy, and warm. Perfect.

“I’m so glad you’re not in jail,” I blurt out.

His tense body relaxes and I feel his chest vibrate with laughter. “I’m right here, baby girl. I’ve been waiting on you to wake up.” Warmth engulfs my insides at the affectionate moniker he uses to address me.

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