Page 69 of The Woman in the Garage

When she was hiccuping and sniffling, she pulled back, head ducked. “Sorry,” she said.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I probably should have called the police.”

“You still could, if you want. We could go back to my place and call. But this kind of thing is what my Family does, if you just want us to handle it instead of involving the cops. It’s completely up to you.”

“I… I’d really rather not call them. But, but I want to know who did this.”

“You and me both, sweetheart. Any chance you have cameras in that place?”

“I think my uncle was completely tech-phobic. The landline still has a cord.”

“Not ideal, but okay. We will figure it out. Don’t worry about that part. All you need to do is recover.”

“Everything hurts.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Do you want me to take you to my house, or would you rather be more comfortable at your—“

“No,” she chirped, voice tight. “No, can we go to your house?”

“Of course we can. That was always the plan, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, sniffling again.

“Do you want me to pick up anything at your place first? Pajamas? Blanket? Stuffed animal?”

Her lips quirked up at the end there.

“Do you not have blankets? I mean, you don’t have lamps or end tables…”

“Hey, I’ve been decorating. Sort of. I have blankets, I promise. And pajamas you can steal. Or, you know, you don’t need any pajamas,” I added just to get a little smile out of her.

“Pretty sure I’m not in a ‘no pajamas’ state,” she said, gesturing at her face. “Is this as bad as it feels?”

“I’m most worried about your nose,” I admitted. “But it’s good that it stopped bleeding. How hard did you hit your head?” I asked, raising my hand to gently brush my fingers over her bruised temple.

“It wasn’t too hard. I had some… cushioning,” she said, gesturing toward her chest.

“Well, it’s nice that they have another purpose other than just looking really fucking great.” I got a little laugh at that. “Are you nauseated? Dizzy? Double vision? Anything like that?”

“I have a headache. And maybe I’m a little lightheaded. But I haven’t eaten anything. Maybe it’s nothing to do with my head.”

“Maybe. But we’re gonna keep an eye on that just in case. And we can definitely rule out hunger as soon as we get back to my place. The pasta is probably not good, but I have some freshbread to hold you over until we can order something in. Maybe some ice cream,” I said, running my hand over her bruised throat.

“Ice cream sounds good,” she agreed. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”

Yet.

I didn’t want to freak her out, but getting choked out hurt afterward, making it feel like she was swallowing glass.

She’d learn that soon enough.

One thing at a time.

“Okay, good,” I said. “You ready to get going?”

“Yes. I know it’s kind of crazy, you know, given all of this,” she said, waving at herself again.

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