Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
She felt the drowning feeling again. It was the next thing she felt, the faraway underwater sensation. She felt herself coming up to the surface. Her eyes opened slowly, squinting at her surroundings.
Bright. Everything was bright and white. There was a window to her right. The sun was high in the sky, blinding. She looked down at her hands, which she found were gloriously numb, and wrapped in clean white gauze. She was in a bed with white sheets in a pink and blue striped gown with a thin white blanket tucked around her waist. There was a needle and a tube sticking out of the crook of her arm.
A hospital. She was in a hospital.
The realization dawned and brought with it the memories of what had happened. The break-in. The fight. Her bloody hands. Drugs. The trunk of a car. More drugs. Waking up much like this, disoriented and tied up in a basement. Freaky Frankenstein Sally trying to dress like her. Her sore wrists. The police lights. Sally on top of her about to bash her head against the ground.
A hand came down on her left arm and she jumped, struggling away. A scream rose up in her chest but nothing came out, her throat raw and raspy from screaming before.
"Hannah. Hannah baby, you're safe. It's okay. You're safe. I'm here," a voice said at her side and she looked up from the hand to see Elliott there.
He looked tired, she realized. There were purple bruises under his eyes. His skin was pale. His suit was wrinkled.
"It's me," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "You're in the hospital. Okay?"
Hannah felt her head nodding and realized there was something there. Her hands went up to feel, but she realized that they were bandaged too. She dropped them with a sigh.
Elliott's hand rubbed her arm gently, trying to calm her. "You have a bandage on your head too. There needed to be some stitches but everything is fine. You're fine. Scrapes and bruises. Your wrists were the worst but they have that all covered. Don't worry."
Hannah felt tears welling up in her eyes for reasons she couldn't name. Overwhelming relief. The hangover from all the fear, the adrenaline. Before she knew it she was sobbing, pulling herself into a seated position, her body jumping with her sobs.
Then she felt Elliott's arms go around her, his body coming up next to hers and the bed making an odd sound at the extra weight. He pulled her against his chest, his hands gentle. "Shh. I got you, baby. You're going to be alright. Nothing is ever going to happen to you again. I promise. I promise." He said the words firmly, like a vow. Like a vow he intended to keep.
A nurse came in then, a worried expression on her face as she clucked at the monitors. She hit a button twice and Hannah felt herself falling into a dead sleep.
She woke up again later, clearer. Sharp even. Fully alert the second her eyes opened. The world outside was dark again and she realized they had drugged her to keep her calm. She had slept the entire day away. There was a gasping sound and Hannah found her parents next to her, their hands on her legs, looking at her with relief.
"Hey baby," Moira said, her eyes tearing up.
"Mom. Dad," she said, the words coming up like broken glass from being choked.
"Don't talk," her dad pleaded, his face looking older than she remembered. "Everything is alright. You have ten stitches on the back of your head. More on your hands and wrists. A dislocated shoulder. And your throat is badly bruised. It is going to hurt for a while," he told her, his voice clear but wavering. Her amazing, stoic father. She knew she could count on him for a lowdown of events. "They got that lunatic. You'll never have to worry about her again."
There was rustling from the other end of the room and she saw a figure rising. Xander Rhodes, she realized with a start. He winked at her. "Heya sweetheart. You're a mess," he said, smiling at her with his impossible amused, inappropriate grin.
"You look beautiful," a voice protested, sounding annoyed. Hannah felt herself smile. Tad. "Unlike me," he said and Hannah noticed the angry purple bruises under his eyes, the slightly bent curve to his nose. "Elliott did it. It was meant for him," Tad said, nodding toward Xander.
Hannah nodded, glancing around quickly. He wasn't there. She had a foggy memory of crying into his chest in the hospital bed. But maybe that had just been a drug-induced dream.
"He just ran out for a few minutes," Moira said, noticing her daughter's change in expression. "He has been here the whole time. He called us from the ambulance with you coming from... well anyway. And he was here hunched over your bed when we arrived. He's paced the floor into disrepair I'm afraid," she said, smiling at her daughter. "That's one fine man you have there you know."