by Kelli Walker
“Charity! No!” I roared.
I sprinted for her. Pushed off with my feet as quickly as they would work. But, the only sound that filled my ears was the explosion that occurred. The sparks. The flames. The boom. All of it, happening in slow motion as it unfolded before my very eyes. I watched Charity’s front door throttle itself into her face as she brought her hands up. I watched it carry her off the porch, projecting her straight for the side of the taxi. I launched myself behind her. I jumped off my feet and wrapped my arms around her waist. I reached out beyond her and braced my arm against her front door that had turned into a deadly weapon so it wouldn’t crush her anymore than it already had.
My back crushed against the taxi, busting windows and denting the metal frame with my outline as glass showered down onto us. The only other sound I heard was the squealing of tires off in the distance as I held Charity’s body close.
Her soft, limp, bloodied body.
Charity - One Week Later
I groaned, stretching out against the soft material I felt against my back. My body felt heavy. Stiff. And when I tried to open my eyes, a searing pain shot through my face. My hand rushed up to my face and I felt gauze wrapped around it. I felt the tube of the I.V. wiggling around underneath my skin. My body hurt in ways I couldn't explain as the beeping of my heart monitor quickly brought me out of my hazy, sleep-induced confusion.
The smell of disinfectant was pungent as tears prickled the backs of my eyelids.
I drew in a shaking breath as I tried to blink. But, the more I moved my eyes, the more they hurt. The sounds of the machines around me triggered memories. Faces of patients. Instances where I had fallen asleep in their rooms watching over them. I knew was in the hospital. I recognized the sounds and the smells. The dry taste on the tip of my tongue from not taking in any fluids for a while now. I had no idea why my bed felt as soft as it did. No hospital bed felt this nice. But I knew I was in a hospital.
I’d spent the bulk of my adult life in them.
If only I could see what was around me.
I pushed myself up in my bed, but I couldn't move. Everything in my body ignited at once in pain, and it caused me to groan out. The sound was breathy. Airy. Like I hadn’t used my voice in weeks. I tried to swallow, but my mouth wasn’t making any saliva. I tried raising my legs, but it felt as if they were encased in lead. As if I hadn’t moved them for days.
How long have I been here?
“A week.”
My head whipped over to the voice in the corner. Well, I assumed it came from a corner, because I didn’t feel anyone next to me. The voice was deep. Resonating. It filled the space around me and trickled through my I.V. tubes. I felt it filling my stomach. The low tones and the gravelly notes. It rattled my ribcage and caught my attention as I heard something walking across the floor.
Not something. Someone.
A person whose voice I didn't recognize was moving for my bed.
I winced as I turned my head toward the sound of the footfalls. I felt the edge of my bed depress before something warm covered my thigh. It was large. Comforting. Soft and unassuming. I lifted my hands and placed them on top of the object that had settled onto my thigh. I felt the knuckles. The hair on top of the skin. The fingernails as I slid my hands down the to the tips of another set of fingers.
A man had set his hand on my thigh.
“Are you my doctor?” I asked.
I cleared my throat, trying to make it sound stronger than it did.
“No. I’m not,” the voice said.
“Then, can you get my doctor for me?”
No sooner had I asked the question, my door busted open. I heard it crash against the wall before a flurry of footsteps followed behind the sound.
“Oh my god! Dr. Goldstein! She’s awake!”
“Reese?” I asked.
“Oh my gosh. Charity. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“Reese, is that you?” I asked.
I lifted my hand to search for hers, and the instant I did the warmth of the comforting stranger slipped away. I rushed my hands back down to my thigh, trying to catch his grasp. But, I was too late. I felt a set of hands on my shoulders, pushing me back down to my bed. I felt people poking and prodding me. Someone jammed something sharp into my toe and my leg jerked back. I let out a howl of pain while someone else pulled back my gown and pressed down on my abdomen. I moaned. I wiggled around. I felt myself panicking. My heart rate monitor started beeping uncontrollably as my hand stretched out for the kind stranger’s warmth.
Where did he go?
I wanted him to come back.
“Hey. I’ve got you. I’m right here,” Reese said.
I felt Reese slip her hand into mine. At least, I thought it was Reese. I felt my jaw trembling with a need to cry as doctors and nurses whizzed about my bed. I didn’t really know who was who because I couldn’t see. I knew someone was trying to shine a light through the gauze over my eyes to see if I’d follow it, but there was nothing to follow. I heard the whooshing of the flashlight. I felt the end of a stethoscope fall to my chest. I heard every breath and every whisper and every beep of my monitor as if everything had been cracked up to the highest volume.
But I couldn't see a damn thing.
“Breathe. You need to settle down, Charity.”
Reese’s lips pressed against my ear as she squeezed my hand. Yes. That was Reese’s hand. I was sure of it now. But, I couldn't draw in deep breaths. Panic had flooded my veins and kept a grip on my heart. My gown was peeled back for the world to see me naked and I felt exposed. Out of the loop. Lost in a sea of my own life.
In a sea of my own darkness.
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Reese whispered.
I furrowed my brow at her words. Was I not supposed to be alive? I trained my attention onto my own body. I paid attention to what the nurses were doing and where. I felt someone wiping down my abdomen. Small spots here and there. I felt tension in those areas. Bruising in those areas.
Did I have stitches?
I felt bandages being changed and redressed. Around my left calf. Around my neck. I felt someone slide something over my neck before my right arm was slid into a sling. I groaned at the pain. I didn’t even know my shoulder had been hurt. I cradled my arm against my body and pulled my attention away from the nurses and the doctors. I focused on my memories. On the last thing I remembered.
But the only thing that came to mind was groceries.
Why the hell was I thinking about groceries?
“What happened?” I asked.
I heard the room come to a sudden stop before Reese sighed. I heard the army of footsteps fall out of my room as a whooshing feeling was felt over my body. The only thing I could assume was that Reese was shooing everyone out. But, I couldn’t be sure.
I wasn’t sure of anything.
“What do you know?” Reese asked.
“I know I’ve been here a… a week,” I said.
I cleared my throat again, wishing I had some water at my disposal.
“If you don’t need anymore surgery, I’ll get you all the water and juice you want. Okay?” Reese asked.
“Anymore?” I asked.
Reese squeezed my hand. “You were in an accident, Eden. There was--.”
I heard her draw in a shaking breath and I furrowed my brow.
“Reese?” I asked.
“Sorry. Um… there was an explosion. At your house. The um… the woman who was stalking you set a trap while you went out to go get groceries and things.”
So that was why my mind was on groceries.
“It’s all over the news right now. Has been all week,” Reese said breathlessly.
“So, I’ve been out an entire week,” I said.
I felt a pair of lips fall to my hand before something soft pressed against it. Wetness trickled over my skin. It was warm, but not inviting. I smoothed my hand over Reese’s face, letting my fingertips dance over her lips. They shook. They trembled. And I f
elt more wetness on her other cheek as I cupped it. I felt her nuzzle into my touch. Almost as if she couldn't believe I was even talking with her.
“Yes. You’ve been out for seven days,” Reese whispered.
The tears that rose in my own eyes stung like a motherfucker. But when I removed my hand to mindlessly wipe at my own tears, I felt Reese wrap her hand around my wrist.
“Don’t touch your eyes,” she said sternly.
I felt her settle my hand back down into hers as the words got stuck in my throat. I was unable to ask. Unable to hear the truth behind the question I wanted answered so badly.
Luckily, I didn’t have to ask.
“You got shrapnel in your eyes from the explosion. It was rigged to go off when you opened your front door, or so the police say at this point. It took us three surgeries to get your eyes right. Don’t touch them if you can stand it,” Reese said.
“Th--three?” I asked.
“The damage was extensive, Charity. The first surgery was simply removing the shrapnel from your eyes and your body as well as patching you up so we could get you stable. You’ve got a gash in your calf that required inward and outward stitching. Forty stitches in all.”
“Forty?” I whispered.
“Yeah. You’ve got two fractured ribs that required plates and screws to fix. You had a gash in your neck that took twelve stitches to close. You took shrapnel to your stomach, so all in all you’ve got twenty-seven stitches in your abdomen.”
I swallowed hard. “A-a-and… and my shoulder?”
“Dislocated. The explosion threw you clear off your porch, Charity. Your door came off its hinges and crashed into you. I guess you must’ve brought her hands up, and the force of the door shoved your shoulder out of socket. You're lucky to be alive,” she said.
It felt like my body was spiraling into an endless abyss. My head fell back onto the pillow of the hospital bed as more tears stung the backs of my eyes. I felt my gauze soaking them up. Covering up their existence before anyone else knew of their presence.
“Holy shit, my tears hurt,” I choked out.
“Believe it or not, that’s a good thing. If you were completely numb in that area, then it means your sight can’t be restored,” Reese said.
“So, I’ll be able to see again? Once this is all said and done? Once I’m healed?”
“Well, the other two surgeries were touch-and-go. The second one--.”
“I don’t care about surgeries, Reese. I want to know if I’m going to be able to see again.”
I felt her kiss the top of my hand again and I knew that wasn’t good.
“My professional opinion? There’s about a thirty-eight percent chance your sight won’t be damaged,” she said.
“So… so h-h-how--how badly do you think--?”
“You know there’s no telling until the bandages come off, Charity. You know that this could go either way for now. What you need to do is rest. Eat what we give you. Trust us with your body until we can get you better.”
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Reese kept rattling on, but I blocked her voice out. My head fell off to the side, trying to turn away from her as much as possible. I felt my life crumbling at my feet. I felt my entire world careening out of control. Being a doctor was all I had. Being a surgeon was all I had been afforded in this life. I had no one. Nothing. No family. No friends. Well, except Reese. But if I couldn't return to work, I might not even have her. We never saw one another outside of work. It wasn’t like she came over for gal pal sleepovers.
I had nothing without my career.
And I didn’t have that career without my eyesight.
Rocco
“Does she know you’re here?”
I whipped my head up and looked over at the door. I saw Matthew standing there, his figure looming in the dim lights of the hallway behind him. I shook my head slowly and he came through the door. He closed it behind him and walked around Charity’s hospital bed.
A bedside I hadn’t left since she had been admitted a week ago.
“So, she doesn't know you’re here. Are you just hanging out in silence in the corner?” Matthew asked.
“I don’t think she knows it’s me, no,” I said.
“Then, I take it she doesn’t know that you’ve been here all week?”
“No.”
“Working from your phone and your laptop in this corner in order to be here?”
“No.”
“Massaged her muscles and worked her joints twice a day in between working while she was unconscious so she wouldn't get stiff and atrophy?” he asked.
I slowly let my gaze trail over to him as he sat in a chair next to me.
“No, Matthew. She doesn’t,” I said.
“Well, maybe she should,” he said.
“Wouldn’t do her any good. Besides. She’s got Reese. I’m sure Reese has probably told her what’s going on.”
“Who’s Reese?”
“The only other person that comes to visit her regularly. They work together in the hospital,” I said.
“How do you know that?”
“I did a background search on her when she first came into the room yelling and crying for Charity,” I said.
“Of course, you did. Anything not to have a conversation.”
“Not my place to interject.”
“And yet, here you sit. For the seventh day in a row.”
My head fell off to the side as my hands fell into my lap.
“Reese is the only person that comes to visit her,” I said.
“It’s not your responsibility to stay with her, Rocco. The job’s done,” Matthew said.
“It’s far from done.”
“The case is wrapped up, and you did what you could. We arrested Loretta Stone. Jose Gonzalez, too. It’s over, and you did everything you could to protect her.”
I shook my head. “If I had, then she wouldn’t be in that hospital bed, Matt.”
“This isn’t your responsibility. You're the one who’s always telling me not to get personally wrapped up in our cases. In our clients. Because this is what it does. It makes us feel responsible for things we can’t control.”
“I could control this,” I growled.
I whipped my head over to him and looked straight into his eyes.
“Had I been faster. Smarter. One more step ahead, I could have controlled this. We should have seen this coming. Why the fuck didn’t we see this coming?” I asked.
“This isn’t the first time we’ve nearly averted disaster like this. She’s alive, Rocco. Because of the cushion you provided when she went flying for that taxi.”
“I’m not leaving her here by herself,” I said.
“She’s got her friend, Rocco.”
“Reese is still working. She’s still running her schedule. She’s only been by three times this week to really see Charity.”
“So… what do you think you’re going to do?” he asked.
“Not leave her alone, if that’s what you mean. She doesn’t need to be going through this alone. The poor woman’s been through enough.”
“You care about her, don’t you?” he asked.
I heaved a sigh. “I’m not sure what the hell’s going on anymore.”
“It’s a simple question. Charity’s no longer a client. It’s a valid question that won’t get you into trouble for your answer. Do you care for her?”
“I don’t know, Matt. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. YOu know I’m not good with this shit. But for the love of everything, respect the fact that I’m not coming back to work until I know she’s home safely. I’m not leaving her to do this alone. And that’s final.”
Silence fell over our corner of the room. Nothing except the beeping of Charity’s heart monitor filled the space. I looked over at her and watched her chest rise. Fall. Rise. Fall. Rhythmically. Safely. Reminding me that she was very much alive. I’d been so fucking scared. So terrified when I looked down at her bloodied fa
ce and saw the glass puncturing her eyelids. Shards of it, glaring back at me. Reflecting the horror of my face as she bled in my arms. Trapped between the mangled taxi and the wooden front door of her home.
I drew in a shaking breath. “I’ve only known her for two weeks, Matt.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Two weeks, and half that time she’s been unconscious. How the hell is it possible to care for someone under circumstances like that?”
Matthew shrugged. “The heart and soul work in mysterious ways. You’ve experienced this first-hand.”
“Don’t--... don’t do there, Matt.”
“Rocco, I think we need to. Because it’s obviously still holding you back.”
“She was a client, and I never should have crossed the line with her the way I did,” I said.
“But, you did. It was our longest case, Rocco. That case took us everywhere. We were drowning in it for months. You were around her twenty-four seven. I knew the two of you had a connection. I saw her giving into it. I saw you fighting it. And I saw how happy you were when you finally caved to it. When you finally allowed yourself to be with Brianna.”
“And look where it got me,” I murmured.
“She did you wrong, Rocco. That woman knew she was engaged the entire time she was doing what she did. The entire time we kept her safe. Kept her in our safehouses. Kept her out of harm’s way. That woman knew she was promised to another man. There’s no way we could have seen that coming,” he said.
“And again, I should have seen that coming.”
“You aren’t perfect, Rocco. But, the connection you felt with her was. The way you looked when you talked about her. The way your voice lightened when you spoke of her. You dreamt of a future with her, didn’t you?” he asked.
“You got a point?”
“You’re doing the same thing with Charity. Aren’t you?”