Page 29 of Seven Days
I tilt her head back and smack her cheek lightly. Her eyes flutter open and then wince closed.
“Sweetpea, I’m so sorry,” Jack grabs her hand as a tear rolls down his cheek. “I didn’t mean to knock you over.”
“I know, Dad. It’s okay.” The blood is still running out of her forehead so I stand to get a cloth and some ice while he watches over her.
“I think we need to take you to the hospital.” Jack leans over and looks down at her gash. “Thomas, why isn’t the bleeding stopping?”
“Because it’s a head wound.” I kneel down on her other side, but he’s hovering over her. “Move aside so I can see what I need to do.”
The gash is about an inch long, but fairly narrow. I doubt it needs stitches, a butterfly bandage should do the job. “I’m going to go grab my first aid kit,” I say to Bri. “Hold this ice on your forehead to help the swelling and stop the bleeding.”
“Dad, help me up.”
I listen as Bri and her father talk quietly and when I come back into the room she’s sitting on the edge of one of my kitchen chairs with him clutching her hand and apologizing profusely.
“I’ll clean the cut and use a butterfly bandage to hold the wound together. It doesn’t look like it’ll need any stitches.”
“Are you sure? It keeps bleeding.” Jack interjects.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure, Jack. I am a goddamn doctor. Shut your mouth or go somewhere else.”
“Thomas, easy,” Bri whispers. “He feels awful.”
“He should feel awful. It was fucking reckless. You could have been hurt worse.”
“I’m fine. What’s making me upset is watching and listening to you two fight.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not a liar. I’m fucking pissed.” I finish cleaning the area with antiseptic wipes. “Can you hold your hair back?”
“Yes.” She pulls her hair back and I look at her pupils, both of which look normal. Hopefully there’s no concussion. I place the bandage over the wound with a clenched jaw.
“Okay, Bri.” Jack grabs her hand and pulls her to her feet. “Let’s go home.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.” I step between them. “Over my dead body does she leave this house tonight. She needs to be watched.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Jack is about two inches shorter than me, but slightly bulkier. If this comes to blows we’re evenly matched. “If she needs to be monitored, I’ll take her to the hospital. Otherwise, I’m perfectly capable as her father to take care of her at home.”
“That bump on her head says otherwise,” I shoot back.
We go back and forth arguing as Bri sits down. I shoot her concerned looks every few minutes and I see Jack doing the same thing. After a few minutes, she stands and tells us she’s going to the bathroom. The arguing continues between us until I realize that she’s been in the bathroom a little too long. I leave Jack still huffing and grumbling and walk to the half bath off the kitchen that I saw her go toward.
When I get there, the door is wide open and the light is off, but the front door is cracked a bit. I run out to the front yard and see the pedestrian gate is open.
Fuck!
“Jack!” I yell. “She left.”
“What?” He comes running. “Where would she go?”
14
BRIANNA
* * *
Is it the smartest thing to jump on the first flight from LA to DC with a likely concussion and nothing packed aside from what’s in your purse? No, probably not. But I did it anyway and now I’m laying in bed next to my best friend eating ice cream and talking about how stupid men are.
Sara has her hair pulled up in a bonnet while she demolishes a pint of vanilla bean ice cream and keeps shooting sideways glances at me. She dropped everything as soon as I called her from LAX, and when she picked me up at the airport, she was ready with every type of comfort food, a list of movies we haven’t gotten around to watching and bottles of my favorite wines.