Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty
“I’m sorry if this hurts,” the nurse gently apologises as she cleans and dresses my head wound.

I mumble a reply, my eyes fixed on my hands in my lap. The nurse did her best to clean me up, but I can still see the dried blood embedded around my nails and cuticles. I pick at it, trying desperately to get rid of it but it won’t go away.

When I was admitted, the nurses took photos of my injuries. They did that the last time I was attacked too but this time it felt so much worse; so much more invasive. They took photos of my head, face, hands, wrists, ankles and chest. I guess there were marks there too but I don’t want to think about it. They did so many other things, but I just tried to tune it all out, even though they were being so kind and gentle the entire time and always asking if I was okay to continue. I wasn’t, but I just wanted to get it over with.

“Excuse me, we were hoping to have a word with Miss Contreras,” announces a masculine voice.

I look up to see a male and female officer standing in the doorway, their faces masks of neutrality.

The nurse glances over at them, then resumes bandaging my head. “I’m currently tending to my patient; it’ll have to wait.”

“We can see that, but Miss Contreras was a witness to a crime and it’s important we take her statement,” the male officer declares.

I feel tears fill my eyes as images of Julian and Carter’s bleeding bodies on my floor fill my mind and I find myself picking at the dried blood around my nails in desperation.

The nurse gives my hand a gentle pat and gets up, turning her attention to the officers. “Miss Contreras is a victim of a horrible crime and is currently being tended to, so if you have any questions for her, they’re going to have to wait,” the sternly informs them.

“Ma’am, we understand that. But it’s important we speak to her while the events are still fresh in her mind,” delicately adds the female officer.

The nurse snorts mockingly. “If you think whatever she just went through isn’t going to be fresh in her mind for a long time to come then you don’t interact with victims much. Now I’m asking you to leave and stop causing my patient further distress. You can speak to her when she’s ready and not a moment sooner,” she states, crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis.

I don’t know this lady, but I couldn’t be more grateful to her right now. I know I need to talk to the police but I’m just not ready. I don’t even know where to begin. What if they arrest me for attacking Carter? Will I go to jail? I feel my heart racing and my hands trembling as all the unknown possibilities weigh on my mind, with the biggest one being whether or not Julain is going to be okay.

I glance over and see the nurse in a stare-off with the officers. They glance over at me, then back at the nurse and let out a resigned sigh.

“We’ll stick around until she’s ready,” he relents, backing away and closing the door.

I breathe a sigh of relief, though my body remains tense.

The nurse shakes her head and sits back down. “I swear some officers have lost all touch with humanity. Don’t get me wrong, some nurses and doctors too.”

“You seem to be doing okay,” I manage to say, giving her a gentle smile.

She smiles back and pats my knee. She rolls back on her stool, grabs a couple of tissues from a box on a counter and rolls back over to me. She lightly dabs the tissues against my cheeks, collecting tears I didn’t realise had fallen.

“Now don’t you worry about them. You don’t have to talk to anyone until you’re ready. You just focus on you,” she encourages, putting the tissues down and resuming work on my head.

I jump when the door suddenly opens, taking a deep breath when I realise it’s just the doctor from earlier. The nurse gives him a stern look like she’s ready to throttle him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you feeling, Miss Contreras?” the doctor asks.

“I’ve felt better,” I answer, taking another shaky breath and adjusting the hospital blanket. I don’t know how anyone is expected to stay warm in these gowns and these threadbare blankets.

“The good news is there don’t seem to be any internal injuries. You’re looking at just a mild concussion, so just try to take it easy and get as much rest as you possibly can, nothing strenuous. If you start to get any headaches, which is very common, you can take Tylenol for the first couple days, and then after that it should be safe to move on to Advil or ibuprofen.”

“Do you know if Julian is going to be okay?” I ask, more concerned about an update on him.

“He should be out of surgery shortly,” he says with a kind smile. “There are some details missing in his file that perhaps you can help the nurses with. There doesn’t seem to be a next of kin in his contacts. Do you know how we can reach his family?”

My heart sinks. “Um, he doesn’t have any, it’s just him.”

“No aunts, uncles or cousins? Anyone you can think of?” he presses, making the nurse roll her eyes.

I feel bad for saying this and breaking Julian’s confidence, but at least I know doctors can’t go blabbing to the media without serious repercussions.

“Julian grew up in foster care. He doesn’t have any family,” I explain.

The doctor nods, “I see. Okay, we can handle it. Thank you.”

“When can I see him?”

“You should be able to see him after surgery.”

“And what about Carter?” I carefully ask feeling my stomach turn. “Do you know how he is?”

The doctor and nurse exchange a look that instantly puts me on edge. “He is also still in surgery,” he answers, clearly not wanting to tell me more than that.

I nod, not wanting to press. I didn’t mean to hurt him as badly as I did. I didn’t want to kill him; I just didn’t want him to hurt me or Julian anymore. I know he’s clearly a horrible and messed up person, but I don’t think I can live knowing I killed a man, no matter how justified it might be. I don’t want that on my conscience.

The doctor makes his exit, leaving me with the nurse and overwhelming dread seeping into my bones.

The nurse lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. “You did what you had to do. You were put in an impossible situation and did the only thing you could to survive. You have nothing to be guilty or ashamed of,” she assures me.

“But if he dies…that means I killed someone,” I sob, covering my mouth as my cries wrack my body.

The nurse gives me a compassionate look. “Do you have family you can call?”

“They’re all in the Dominican. I can’t call them,” I say, shaking my head.

“If my daughter had gone through what you just did and was sitting in a hospital room all alone, I would want to know about it. You need your family, even if they’re far away,” she encourages me.

I take a deep breath, realising she’s right. My family will freak out, but right now I need my mum more than anything. I wish she was here to hold me and tell me it’s all going to be alright. I thought I could do this all on my own, never wanting to add more of a burden to my family’s lives but I know now that was stupid. I can’t do this on my own, I never could.

I look around only to realise my phone is back at my place. “I don’t have my phone to contact them,” I explain, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

The nurse pulls her phone out of her scrubs, unlocks it and hands it to me with a kind smile. “Take your time. I’ll come get it from you later.”

“I can’t use your phone to…” I start to protest but she waves me off.

“If you don’t call your mother, I will. Now start dialling,” she says with a stern motherly voice that makes me chuckle.

I nod in acceptance and smile graciously at her, reaching out and squeezing her gloved hand. “Thank you, for being so kind to me.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replies, patting my hand with a warm smile.

She cleans up the tray of items she used to dress my wound, gets up and steps out of the room, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath to calm myself and once I’m ready, I call my mother’s number. It takes a minute, but the call finally connects.

“Hola?” I hear my mother’s voice greet, causing tears immediately to spring to my eyes.

“Hola Mamita, it’s Nalani,” I sniffle.

“Mi changuita?” she says in surprise. “Nalani? What’s wrong?” she asks, her tone growing concerned.

“Something bad has happened,” I blurt out as I break down into sobs and finally tell my mother everything that has been going on. The stalking, the attacks, the cheating, the breakup, Ily; all of it.

I never realised how much I needed this or what a relief it would be to share all this with her. At the end of the day, I’m still her little girl and I will always need my mother. I hate having her so far away but being able to confide in her now is exactly what I needed.