9| She Was Injured

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ASH
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One second I was struggling to stay on my own two feet without grinding my teeth to dust from pain, and the next Dustin was helping me sit down in the nearest seat to me. It was firm, awkwardly wide, and far from comfortable, just like all the other ones. Still, I didn't complain. I refused to, unless I kept the negativity strictly confined to myself. That was why my mind was filled with unkind words in regards to the tall man helping me without reason.

I hated the idea of appearing so needy in front of him. He was a stranger, and I never did well with strangers, unless they were kids. Especially not men. Right now, I just wanted him to walk out those annoying, slow to open, automatic doors and avoid approaching me if he ever spotted me in public again.

Yet, I wasn't pushing him away. Perhaps I was, mentally, but physically? I hadn't crossed that bridge. I should have. I tried to. After letting it slip about my family, I wanted to leave. I even attempted to, but didn't make it very far before the sharpest spasm I'd ever felt hit me in my side, right where Shai's man kicked me. Next thing I knew, Dustin was at my side, his large tattooed hands steadying me until I was stable without his touch.

He still was there, inches away, and that bothered me, because I didn't know why. Surely I wasn't the warmest of company. The cold floor tiles stained with the smell of antiseptic were more inviting than myself. I never wore perfume or scented lotion, so I doubted there was anything alluring about me at the moment. Not with my ripped jeans and mildly stained oversized hoodie.

Boredom. That was the only logical explanation, unless for some odd reason he actually enjoyed being near irritable and unapproachable people. If so, I felt sorry for the poor sap.

"I think someone's finally coming," he said, and I assumed he was referring to a doctor or nurse, the last people I wanted to talk to unless they had news on my mother.

Keeping my eyes closed and lips tightly shut, I focused on calming my breathing as the pain turned to a heavy ache. I could sense how close Dustin was, could almost feel his gaze, but I didn't move—couldn't find the energy to—and I was grateful he seemed to respect that. It was the least he could do if he insisted on being there.

But, why is he?

"Miss, we can take a look at you now. Do you need assistance making it to the bed? A doctor is already there."

Opening my eyes at the first sound of her voice, I found myself looking at the face of a small African-American woman in dark green scrubs. Her hair was short, in a tiny afro, and her teeth were so white as she smiled kindly at me. Even though my discomfort put me in the mood to be cold and rude, I stomached the pleasantries and tried to be as civil as possible.

"Thank you, but I'm not here for myself," I said, going back to closing my eyes a second later, hoping she'd get the hint that I wanted the conversation to end in record time.

"But, you look like you need a doctor, and I can't in good conscious recommend you not see one now," she pressed, her presence lingering and unwanted.

"Ashley, maybe you should-" Dustin began right as the nurse continued speaking.

"Miss, I really think-"

"Look!" I blurted out, raising my voice and cutting both of them off mid-sentence. "Yelena Ovechkin! That's my mother! I brought her in a few hours ago, you all gladly took her, and I'm not moving from this spot until I know how she is and when she'll be released! You want to help me? Then get me an update, because I asked for one centuries ago and haven't been told a damn thing!"

"Yelena Oh-Ov..." she stumbled to pronounce.

"Ovechkin," I repeated.

Nodding, she smiled weakly at me and said, "I'll try to get you that update. Just don't move around too much. We don't want you making things worse."

"Okay," I agreed before adding, "And...sorry about yelling at you. It's...been a rough day."

"That's alright."

With one more short smile, she turned and left. Hopefully she wouldn't be long because I was really beginning to feel the harsh affects of the fight. That, and my anxiety was making my heart race and hands clam up. I could hear the steady consistent tick of the clock on the wall as the seconds passed and my heartbeat was significantly faster.

All I kept wondering was what if she left this place and went right back into the lion's den? What did I do then? What would my next move be?

I was beginning to drown in my insecurities and it was not a mindstate I liked to be in, though I visited there quite often. The results were never good, which was respectably realistic. Still, I tried not to let logic kill every ounce of hope I had that my mother would get out of the ring one day. If I gave up hope, then I gave up any reason to stay in contact with her and then I'd truly be on my own, without any family.

I wasn't ready for that. Doubted I'd ever be.

"So, you were fighting for your mom," Dustin stated rather than asked. His deep voice was sure in that statement, and he was correct.

"Can we not talk about that?" I sighed, running the palms of my hands against the black jeans I wore. The back and forth motion distracted my senses on what to focus on, and made the ache less noticeable. It also kept me from sinking back into the thoughts he pulled me from.

Looking at him, I watched as he nodded and reclined in the seat.
I saw the furrow of his thick brows as he thought, and the subtle tick of his sharp jaw. His dark hair barely peeked out of the grey skully he wore, but I saw the deep contrast of it against his skin. It wasn't perfect, subtly marked by a scar on his chin, but it was easily unnoticeable when you saw his face as a whole. The man was like butter on bread to a woman, irresistable to look at, and he seemed to already know that.

At least he didn't come off as arrogant or self-centered so far. People often said first impressions were key, but I tended to counter that by pointing out that they also weren't the most effective way to decide what kind of person someone truly was. They'd try to project the best, most charismatic, version of themself in the beginning, but later on down the line their horns would begin to show and you'd wonder how you ever invited someone so heartless into your life.

There was no way I planned on seeing Dustin again after this, so I decided I'd try to enjoy his company while I could. If everything went as hoped, my mother and I would be far far away from Philidelphia within a week and I'd never have to find out that Dustin wasn't the kind man that kept me company in the hospital and distracted me from reality for a moment.

"What do you do for a living?" he chose to ask, his bright eyes connecting with mine. They looked blue in the harsh lighting. Bluer than was legal, in my opinion, since he didn't need eyes like that to be attractive.

"I work at a community center, nearby," I replied.

"Do you like it?"

"It's probably the only thing about my life I like," I answered honestly. Perhaps a little too honest, I realized in retrospect. "What about you? What do you do?"

Turning his head away from me, I caught the small frown forming on his lips. Rubbing his face with his hands, he sighed before saying, "I'm a...salesman, I guess you could say."

Biting my lip, I tilted my head slowly before mentioning, "And clearly you're not happy about that."

Bitterly laughing, he agreed. "I hate it."

"Well, then you should do something about it," I concluded. "If you dislike it that much, do something else."

With a half smirk, he nodded his head and said, "One day, Ash. One day I will."

I couldn't help but want the same. That one day I'd wake up and be happy. That one day my mother would be free, and finally, so would I.

"Miss Cole?" The nurse was back, and she held a caseless tablet in her hand as she drew my attention. "Your mother has been moved to an overnight room and is scheduled for release in five days as long as she stays stable through the night. Her injuries were substantial, due to her malnutrition, and she suffered from internal bleeding and bruising.
Dr. Bell was able to stop the bleeding, but they want to keep her under surveillance, just in case, as well as have her speak with police as to how her injuries were acquired."

Digesting everything she said, including how she mentioned they'd want to question me as well, I stayed silent, unsure of the proper response. I just found out that besides getting choked out and slapped around, my mother had been beaten so badly her organs were bruised and she'd bled internally while people she considered 'sisters' just watched it all happen. Not only that, but the police were now involved. If Shai got wind of that, he'd certainly make sure officers in his payroll were the ones sent to us, and I wasn't ready to be on his list of enemies.

Just when I thought the night couldn't get any worse, this happened. It was like I was trapped on a rickety rollercoaster and the ride never ended. I was actually beginning to feel nauseous.

"You don't look well, Miss. I really think you should let us see you now," she advised with a worried look as she scanned my body for something, her gaze lingering on my side that was sheltered by my hands.

I was about to tell her it wasn't as bad as she thought when I felt that wave of nausea again just seconds before I covered my mouth and gagged. I could feel the saliva soak my palm in the process, but when I pulled back to look at it, I was startled to see a deep red staining it instead. With alarmed and widened eyes, I looked at Dustin, whose face mirrored my own expression. Turning to the woman, I winced a little and nodded my head.

"I think you're right."

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