Page 17 of Bossy Grump's Secret

In the background, Ava is musing, "What I said".

"You should get yourself checked as well," I advise her.

"Pfft. I just got a kick to the stomach and a head bump. I survived far worse in high school," she scoffs. "I will, but only after you finish."

"You want to watch me in pain while I get stitched up?" I narrow my eyes at her, and the smile that tugs at her lips confesses all.

"Well, it is going to be more enjoyable for me than for you,” Ava informs me and shrugs.

Despite the warnings and advice of the doctor, Even though the doctor advised against it, I returned to work immediately after the stitching and dressing were done, missing out on a few hours. Fortunately for me, the workflow seems to be smooth sailing.

The next day comes, bringing the next phase of work — give a police statement from both of us. It's clear to me that Ava is feeling emotionally drained about this. So am I. No one wishes to come across the same person who could have been responsible for a lifetime's most traumatizing event. Mrs. Greane accompanied us and regretted not being there when the man was taken away.

Ava might find it odd that the RDM is so fixated on my injuries, but she keeps her thoughts to herself. I'm glad she does because she talks a lot.

When she gave police the statement, I hear it the first time about what went down and I understand why.

The most devastating part of rape and other brutal violence is the feeling of hopelessness. Knowing what will happen to you but being unable to escape is a devastating realization. You can only prepare your mind for whatever your assailant has in stock for you.

At that terrible moment, your life depends upon the mercy of a person who wants to do nothing but hurt you. I can see in Ava’s eyes, as she mentions the part where I stepped in, how grateful she is. It's like she's reliving it but with the ability to feel the full weight of the emotions this time, not the numb subtlety that adrenaline gives.

“Don’t worry, Miss Persson. We’ll ensure this man gets the full sentence for his crime against you. I can assure you of that." The detective of Special Victims Unit (SVU)comforts Ava when she ends her last statements in tears. "If he doesn’t confess, there will be a hearing, and we will summon you. Can you be ready?”

Ava nods wordlessly. I gently pat her shoulder and whisper, "You'll be fine," She nods. It took a little longer before we finish giving statement.

On the car ride back to the hotel, she whispers, "Dylan, you saved me." "I didn't think there'd be any way to escape that situation, but there you were."

I hold her hand and give it a firm, understanding squeeze.

“I owe you. Thank you,” she sniffs.

"I was just doing my job, Ava," I insisted.

I feel her breath on my shoulder. She emits a slight chuckle. "Even though you got more beat up than I did?"

Her laughter is contagious and I join in.

Over the next few days, I returned to the clinic to redress my wounds. It heals well, especially the one on my head. But my sides, a little slow, mainly because of the exertion I place on them during normal work.

But I can't stop. I try to limit the amount of physical labor I choose to do now. Just walking upsets my side wound…and I must walk.

"Dylan, you're bleeding." Ava points to my shirt, and I can see a fresh, dark stain. I look at it before the pain prevents me from craning my back further.

“Wow, that’s…horrid,” I grunt, and take my time to assess it. But there’s work to do. A lot, and we're on the twelfth floor. The hassle of going to the clinic just to change a dressing annoys me.

"It happens sometimes. Most times, when I'm asleep. The doctor said it should close up fully enough to stop these mundane bleeds in a couple of days,” I explain.

After giving her an awkward salute, I try to move out of Ava's way, but she stops me. "Yeah, see, I'm uncomfortable with that,” she states firmly. “Something has to be done about it.”

“I’ll go change my shirt, then.” I huff.

She shakes her head with discontent. I know what she wants, but I don't like it. I don't want to change a coat that will still be a red hue five minutes later.

"You don't have work to do?" I try to run the subject off the table. Tough luck. She folds her arms and looks at me like she sees right through me.

"Fine," I give in. "I'll do it by the end of the day," I promise.

"Come on, let me get the first-aid kit on this floor. It shouldn't take long," Ava volunteered. Since the offer presents itself, it'd be dumb to decline.

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