Without a Doubt (37 page)

THE GUY IGNORES me. Eva cringes as his lips brush her ear. “Put the cash in my pockets.”

She quickly follows his demand, her eyes flicking between the register and me. I take a step forward, but he notices the action. Eva screams with a high-pitch that hurts my ears. Oh, god.
He cut her.
Blood is pouring from her neck like a damn waterfall.

The guy freaks, staring at her for a long moment. “Sor...sorry,” he stutters, grabbing the rest of the cash as she crumbles to the floor. He runs around to the kitchen and I run to jump over the counter to Eva. I hear the bell as he leaves.

“You're okay,” I lie, glancing around, but not seeing any napkins within reach. I pull off my shirt, thankful for my undershirt, and pull away her hands. Those perfect bright blue eyes are already glazed as the tears stream down her face. I press my shirt to her neck, hoping it's not as bad as it looks. Eva clamps her hands around my wrist, her eyelids fluttering. “Stay with me, okay?”

“Not good with blood,” she whispers.

Shit. Is she struggling to stay conscious because of that or the actual wound? I grab the phone from next to the register and dial 911. Eva leans forward, her hands falling from my wrist as she rests her forehead against my chest.

My heart is racing with panic. I alternate talking to the operator and trying to keep Eva awake. She'll be fine. She has to be. It takes ten minutes before I can faintly hear sirens.

“Here they come,” I tell her. “You're going to be fine. Just stay with me. I love you, Eva. You're going to be okay.” When she doesn't respond, not even a 'mhm', my panic rises. “Eva?” I carefully tilt her away from me, my heart spasming out when I see her eyes closed. She's slack against my hold. “Eva, come on. Open your eyes,” I beg. Fear pushes out my own tears, overwhelming me. “Eva, Eva,
Eva
,” I repeat. A shaking on my shoulder snaps me out of it. Two paramedics are waiting for me to move out of the way. Reluctantly, I do. “Is she going to be okay?”

One checks her vitals as the other pulls away my shirt to look at the cut.

“Her pulse is strong,” the man says.

“The laceration isn't too bad. Long, but it didn't hit an artery,” the woman replies to me. “We'll stop the bleeding and she'll most likely receive stitches at the hospital. She'll be okay. She probably passed out from being lightheaded with the loss of blood.”

“She'll faint at the sight of it too,” I tell them for no other reason than to say something.

They load her up on the stretcher. The police have arrived as well and they want to ask me questions.

“Can't you send someone to the hospital? I can't let her go alone.”

“She won't be alone,” the officer replies in a monotone.

“She'll freak the hell out if I'm not there! I'm not staying here.” Before he can say anything else, I jog to catch up with the paramedics as they place her in the back of the ambulance. I take a seat and reach for her hand. We pull onto the road when Eva opens her eyes.

“How are you feeling, dear?” the lady asks her. “We're on the way to the hospital and you're going to be just fine.”

“Emerson?” she breathes, her voice sounding weak and breaking my heart.

“I'm right here.” I squeeze her hand and lean forward, so she can see me.

“Thanks for surprising me,” she whispers. Eva glances down at my undershirt, frowning when she sees the blood.

“Don't look or you'll pass out on me again. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. Too much blood.” I give her a little smile and she turns worried. “How bad is it?”

Her eyes move to the paramedic as she answers her, “Nothing a lot of stitches can't fix. It wasn't a clean cut, it's a bit jagged, but you'll be fine.”

When we arrive at the hospital, Eva is seen immediately. An officer hovers outside her door. The doctor lets him in for a few minutes before he's going to stitch her up. Eva slowly recounts what happened, how the guy had been in there before, and Barry's information. It makes it worse that this guy has been around her before. My stomach rolls as I remember her telling me about him while being thankful Glen seemed to make him leave before by showing up. After we also give him our info, he leaves.

“Will you call Glen, my parents, and Catherine?”

“You don't want me to wait until after you're stitches are done?”

“I'll be okay. Come back when you're done.” She gives me a small smile of reassurance.

“Okay.” I kiss her softly and take her phone, which was in her back pocket.

Everyone freaks out as I call to inform them of what happened. Can't say I blame them. I'm still freaked out. I had to reassure her parents many times that she was fine and we would still be coming tomorrow because she's fine. Glen insists on coming to the hospital. I don't object since I will need a ride to my truck for us to get home. He's bringing his girlfriend, so she can drive Eva's car to our apartment. Catherine's upset, too. She left earlier today to head home for Thanksgiving. She wants to see Eva, check on her herself, but she's already home. I had to promise Eva would call her later.

I return to the room, thinking Eva will be done, but she's only three-fourths of the way through her stitches. The paramedic wasn't lying when she said she would need a lot. Eva looks at me with questioning eyes.

“Glen and Lori are on their way. They're going to make sure we get both us and our vehicles home. Catherine wants you to call her when you feel up to it. So do your parents.”

“Thank you.” She turns her hand palm up and I take it, kissing her knuckles.

We sit silently until the doctor is finished. Glen bursts into the room and rushes over to her. He looks her over before kissing her forehead.

“Glad you're okay, Eva.”

“Thanks for coming.”

Lori hovers in the doorway, but no one says anything to her. Eva does glance her way in acknowledgement. She's probably still annoyed no one will tell her what happened between the two of them. At first, I didn't tell her because not only is it not my place, but I figured if Glen wanted her to know, then she would know. When I brought it up to Glen that she was asking me about it, he made me promise not to tell. Of course, I agreed.

Lori, apparently not one to be ignored, speaks up. “Do y'all need anything?”

“We're fine,” I answer with an appreciative smile. “Thank you though.”

“When are you being discharged?” Glen asks Eva.

“I don't know. Whenever they get the paperwork in order, I guess.” Eva shivers and Glen immediately takes off his jacket, slinging it around her shoulders when she sits up.

He looks at me with a wry smile. “Sorry, I don't have one for you. You're going to freeze your ass off when you go outside.”

I shrug. A few minutes of cold weather I can handle.

“You should be a better girlfriend,” Eva tells him, making us laugh.

Our laughter dies when an officer enters the room. “I'm sorry to bother you twice in one night, but I was wondering if I could show you some mug shots and see if either of you recognize anyone.”

Eva nods. “Okay.”

He hands us three sheets of paper with nine mug shots on each of them. On the third sheet in the upper right corner, we point out the guy. The officer smiles.

“Thank you for your time. He's already been arrested.”

“How?” Eva blurts out.

“He was arrested an hour ago for attempting to buy drugs from an undercover officer. With the descriptions you gave earlier, the amount of cash he had on him, and the bloody knife found in his vehicle, we suspected he might be the same man, which is why I hauled tail back over here to see if you two could ID him. We'll be in touch if needed. Have a good night.” He tips his chin before leaving.

Shortly after, Eva is discharged. Glen takes us back to Sub Grub where I get my truck and Lori drives Eva's car back to my apartment. Glen hugs Eva tightly before promising to see her on Thanksgiving. She's been awfully quiet since the officer left. It worries me. We change into clean clothes and I carefully wash her hair in the kitchen sink, rinsing away all the blood.

When we're in bed, I pull her to me. That one action seems to break her. Sobs pour out of her as her entire torso shakes from the tears. I hold her tighter, repeatedly kiss her temple, and run my hands over her.

“It's okay,” I whisper. “It's over now and you're safe here with me.”

“I was so scared,” she says, managing to hiccup three times.

“I know. I was too, but you're fine. You're safe.”

She cries herself to sleep and I hope the meds she took for any pain and discomfort helps her sleep soundly.

Thanksgiving goes really well. This time, I was able to see Eva actually interact with her family more than I did when we came for her mother's birthday. Her mind isn't weighted down with doubt over our relationship. However, Eva seems happy to come back home because everyone was fussing over her the entire time. I think she was tired of them acknowledging something had happened. She wanted some normalcy and she wasn't getting as much as she wanted with her family.

Thankfully, she hasn't had any issues sleeping and she hasn't cried since that night. However, when it's time for her to return to work, she quits. Eva never makes it out of the apartment. She sits on the bar, dressed for work, and stares at the door, her hands trembling. It's painful to watch, to know that he fucked with her mind, that she is panicking before she could even stand to leave. I hold her in my arms once the tears start falling, trying to calm her down.

She can't do it. She feels bad about it, feels weak, but she says she can't handle walking back in there again. I can't blame her. I don't know if I could ever watch through those doors and not see her sprawled on the floor with blood seeping into my t-shirt. So, I tell her I'll support whatever she feels she needs to do. She calls Barry, who is very understanding, and doesn't go into work. I call in sick and stay with her for the rest of the day.

On the bright side, she's able to quickly find another job at a store in the mall.

On the not-so-bright side, Eva frowns every time she walks past a mirror and sees the raised skin of her scar. Every time I catch her doing it, I walk up behind her and kiss it. She hates the scar. I remind her it'll get better as it heals. She still hates it, calls it ugly. Sometimes, she'll laugh when I tell her if I can find her beautiful after she burps, then the scar won't change that either.

Sometimes I wonder if what happened haunts her more than she lets on. I'll have nightmares every now and then about it, only they're so much worse than the reality. I don't tell her about them because I don't see how it could be helpful. Could she possibly be thinking the same thing if she's having nightmares? I don't know. I hope she will talk to me if she is struggling though.

Tonight, we're lying on the couch watching
Home Alone
, her favorite Christmas movie, who knew? It's Christmas Eve. There's a tree up in the corner. We decided to spend Christmas here together, just the two of us. We'll be making visits home later in the week. We waited until yesterday to put a tree up. Considering there isn't a lot of space to store Christmas stuff here, we bought a live tree we can throw away later and a grand total of five ornaments.

“We don't need much,” Eva had said. “Just a little something.”

So, we picked out five ornaments, bought some lights, and spent the afternoon decorating. Tonight, instead of baking cookies, we baked brownies. We've already eaten half of them. I sigh happily at my life. It's too much sometimes, but damn if it's not amazing.

“Would you ever want to marry me one day?” Eva asks without looking up at me. Every so often, she'll ask a question about our future. Where would we want to live? What would our house be like? What are we going to do when she graduates? How many kids could I picture? Her questions alter between things we should think about, like what happens when she graduates, and fantasizing about our lives after college, like her question tonight.

“Yeah. One day,” I repeat her words. “Without a doubt,” I add. There's no need to tell her I've already started putting money aside for a ring. The plan is to wait until after I've graduated. Two years to go. Well, two and a half really. We'll have been together for three by then and be much more ready to handle a marriage. I don't mind waiting. I want to wait. I'm content with how we are right now. But I also know what I want and even if Eva doesn't realize it, I'm planning and preparing for our future together. She'll answer her own questions usually, so she's supplying me with the information I'll need to make our dreams a reality.