Storyteller

Chapter 5

Tim POV: 

Washing Faith's head in the bathtub is killing me. I know what I've done. This is worse than anything that's ever happened before. There are large open wounds on her head that I'm making sure to avoid, but her hair is matted with blood. I comb through her hair with my fingers while she whimpers, making me feel sick to my stomach. 

"Who did this?" I ask her. She cringes, and hesitates, thinking about something. Her eyelids look heavy, purple from being punched. She looks like hell. My chest churns when she looks up at me. 

"You hurt me..." She spits out, before continuing to wince in pain. I stand up, and quickly rush for a phone. She's in too much pain to not go to the hospital. I pass the smeared blood across the carpet where she drug herself to the door. I try to ignore it, but it's difficult. 

I call 9-1-1, and Chris, telling them both what happened as completely as I can. After I hang up, and debate whether I should go upstairs once more or not. She's horrified of me... Why would she want me there? 

I slowly walk up the stairs, and sit on the edge of the bed in the bedroom, staring at the blood trail. I hear her groaning in the bathroom, but there's nothing I can do to help her. Soaking in the cold water should help her pain. 

I hear the sound of wet skin rubbing against the porcelain tub, before hearing something slam on the tile. I jump, and pray that it's not what I suspect. I carefully peak into the bathroom to see her laying on the floor, slowly dragging herself back to the bedroom. The sight makes me nauseous. 

I grab a towel from the closet, and against her wishes, wrap her up and cradle her in my arms. I carry her to the bed, and sit with her in my arms. She's surprisingly calm, letting out only a few whimpers of pain. 

"I'm so sorry." I whisper, kissing her forehead. She cringes, and squeezes my hand, to tell me that she understands. She starts to shiver, growing cold. I wrap another blanket around her, making sure she's wrapped tightly. 

The moment is surprisingly peaceful given the circumstance. She trusts me... She's not fighting anymore. She feels safe in my arms, and knows that I'm going to take care of her. 

That's when the police burst through the door, knowing this was a domestic situation. They don't see me comforting her, they see me trapping her. One officer pulls out his gun and points it at me, yelling for me to put my hands up. Faith starts to cry again, feeling horrified by all the commotion. I want to comfort her, but I don't want to risk getting shot right beside her. 

"Daddy!" Audrey wails from the door, making me numb, as an EMT slowly lifts Faith off of my lap. A cop tears me out of bed, and throws me to the ground, slamming me down and putting cuffs on me. Audrey's sobbing, while the officers push her back. I hate this... 

I'm thrown into a cop car and taken in for questioning. I'm sure the press is going to eat this up. 

After a few thousand in bail and five hours in the slammer, I head over to the hospital. While waiting for Faith's room number, I spot a TV playing the news in the waiting room.  Everyone watches, as my face flashes on the screen. 

"Country Superstar, Tim McGraw has fallen even farther off the deep end, after a domestic dispute on stage, a suicide attempt in rehab, a petition for divorce, and now battery charges. According to sources, he had visited his estranged wife, Faith Hill, about their divorce papers, which led to another dispute. This time, however, Hill had to be rushed to the hospital, because of critical injuries. Hill's representative say that no additional charges are being filed against McGraw at this time." The TV reporter screams. The nurse cautiously hands me a slip of paper with Faith's room number scribbled on it. She thinks I'm a monster. 

I walk to Faith's door and open it, finding her curled up in bed. She's bruised and beaten to all hell. She looks at me, and shows no reaction. I let my urges take the best of me, and wind up curling up beside her in the hospital bed. She doesn't move an inch, while I wrap my arms around her and pull her in close. She shuts her eyes, and looks as if she's trying to fall asleep. The sight makes me feel a bit better, but kills me all the same. 

Tears start coming from my eyes as I think about the pain she's in because of me. I did this. It's not like another man came in, and I'm getting framed. I did this... She hears me begin to cry, and opens her eyes. She wipes my tears, and places her forehead against mine. She takes a deep breath and rubs her thumb under my cheekbone. 

"I don't know what to do, baby." I spit out, feeling myself completely crumble. She looks at me and squeezes my hand. She thinks for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. 

"Let's go back home for a while." She says, her voice vibrating against my chest. I'm confused as to where she means. "Your mom can watch the girls, and you and I can just try to figure this out. I feel like that's exactly what we need." She explains with a slight smile, making my heart skip a beat. I nod, sort of excited by the idea. 

"You're not in a lot of pain, right?" I ask, feeling consumed by the thought. She shakes her head, and runs her fingers through my hair. 

"No, honey. I'm fine." She answers, the bruises seeming to say something different. "You know I love you, right?" She says, shutting her eyes to fall asleep. I nod, and lay my lips on her forehead.