Chapter Forty Eight
We were driving somebody else's truck, and I was unhappily sandwiched between Jake and my dad in the bench seat, while Deputy Marks drove James in Dad's cruiser. I was still perplexed over finding out his name was Mark Marks and a little distracted in general. When I finally realized we weren't heading in the direction of home, I turned to question my dad. After the whole being taken against my will thing, I didn't like the not knowing.
"You didn't think I wouldn't have you checked out right away, did ya?"
"Dad, I'm fine. I told you I was fine." I was exasperated, tired and just wanted to crawl into my bed to hide for a while. I wanted to put this whole nightmare of a night behind me and pretend it never happened.
"You were drugged, Bella. Please don't fight me on this, okay? 'Sides, we need to collect evidence, test your blood and stuff, ya know?"
"Fine," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest to let him know I wasn't happy about it.
A man in a white doctor's coat paced at the hospital entrance and came jogging toward us as soon as we stopped. Really, I shouldn't have been surprised by Dr. Cullen's presence. I should have known my dad would call him to ensure he would be there when we arrived, even if he had to call him at home.
As we piled out of the car, I watched James being hauled out of the car that parked behind us. I involuntarily tensed at seeing him again so soon. I hadn't expected him to be there.
"Don't worry, kiddo. He's just being examined as a precaution and will be under lock and key the entire time. After the doc gives the go ahead, he's going straight to jail." My dad put his arm around me and helped me out of the truck.
After being forced into an awaiting wheelchair, I was pushed inside and met by a whole freaking team of specialists. Apparently, they were concerned about what James had used to knock me out. I could admit I was pretty curious about that myself, so I let them poke and prod while they ran tests, knowing there wouldn't be so many of them it weren't for my dad demanding it to be so.
My dad produced a handkerchief they found in James' car that smelled all too familiar. Once they were almost certain it was the one James had used to knock me out, one of the many people swarming me immediately took it to the "lab". During the added commotion, an IV was stuck in my arm and some inhaler thing stuck in my face with wispy vapors pouring out of it. After the breathing treatment, they strapped an oxygen mask to my face so that I could breathe clean air for a while. At least the nurse attending to me was kind enough to explain things as the white-coated doctors fluttered about.
In a way, I understood all the concern, but I was still grumpy and wasn't up for answering all their questions. My patience had nearly reached its limit. So, when Pretty Boy forced his way into the room, I may not have been in the best place to respond to his presence. I may have said a few nasty things that I didn't really mean just to take out my frustration on someone. He happened to have made himself an easy target when he strode in, despite the protests of the hospital staff, and started demanding answers as to what happened.
Who in the name of all that's holy did he think he was? Did he really think I would act as if nothing had happened between us? Did he really think I would just let him waltz right back into my life as if he hadn't been avoiding me for days? As if he hadn't kissed me only to go MIA. Oh, hell no.
Before I could get too carried away with my tirade and say even more hurtful things, I noticed one of the nurses plunge a syringe into the tube of my IV. I watched as the fluid, slightly different in color than the other liquid in there, made its way to my arm and disappeared into my skin. The nice lady explained that I'd had quite an ordeal and my body needed a chance to relax and rest so it could recover. I wanted to be angry when I realized she'd just sedated me. I tried to scowl at her, but my face didn't seem to be responding right. After a few failed attempts, I decided it didn't matter. In fact, nothing really seemed important, and I welcomed the waves of calm that quickly swept through my veins. I really liked the warmth it brought with it. Everything could wait indefinitely while I enjoyed this nice cushy, cozy, fluffy feeling.
Disclaimer: I'll give you three guesses who owns it...hint, it's not me.
A/N: Some of you were wondering about Pretty Boy's whereabouts, so there he is. Maybe it was better that they sedated her, huh? The next chapter is 90% written (and has been for awhile now) because it was one of the first bits I wrote. I know a lot of you are wondering about Edward's past, and we will get answers! I do warn ya, though, it's a touch graphic. Nothing too major, and mostly snippets, but just wanted to put that out there so you're prepared.
Super duper thanks to Writtenbyabdex. She is so awesome and amazing and helpful and I just want to hug her bunches :-)
Thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, alerting, favorating (look, I made up a word!) and just plain being here. I promise I read every single review and so wish I had more time to respond to them. It means the world to me that you care enough about these two that you keep coming back to see what happens next.
I adore you!