Fostered {h.s}

Chapter 6.

Harry lifted me up from the ground, standing me on my feet in front of him but I couldn't put any pressure on my right leg. The blood was coming out fast, flowing over my shoe and puddling on the ground. I twisted around to get a look at the wound, finding it to be a long, deep gash.

"Oh, my, God," I whispered to myself.

Without any warning, Harry lifted me into his strong arms and started carrying out of the barn and towards the house. I grasped him tightly, wrapping my arms around his shoulder and neck as to not be dropped.

"Harry, I'm fine. I don't need to be carried." I protested.

"Bullshit," Harry said, his voice cold and closed off. "You're bleeding like mad."

"Harry, honestly," I flinched in pain as I moved my leg. "I swear I'll be okay."

We approached the house and Harry took me inside, putting me down to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. Blood from my leg had dripped down to make a dark place on the grey Nike athletic shorts he'd changed into after shopping. Some of the bleeding had stopped on the way to the house but it was still running down my leg and dripping onto the floor.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Harry instructed.

He made a quick go around the corner and in a few minutes' time he was back with Christy and Jon at his side. They both looked startled and Christy gasped when she seen all the blood. She took my leg in her hands and lifted it up, causing me to whimper just a bit, to look at the cut.

"We need to take her to the E.R." Jon said in his normal calming tone. "That is going to need stitches."

"Let me get something to stall the bleeding first." Christy added.

"I have a meeting for work soon, I'll just have to call to let them know I can't make it." Jon said next.

Harry intervened after that. "Go ahead and go to your meeting. I can drive Sami to the hospital and Christy can ride with me. I know how nervous she gets in these kind of situations."

"I'm fine, you guys. I think if I just get it to stop bleeding I won't need to go to the hospital." I persuaded. The truth was, I was terrified to get stitches.

"No," Harry, Christy, and Jon all said at once.

In the next few minutes, Harry had helped me walk out to his car and get into the back seat. He climbed in to the driver's seat as Christy got into the front passenger seat. It took less than a half hour to pull into the hospital parking lot but by that time I had started feeling dizzy, probably from blood loss.

Harry carried me into the front doors of the E.R against my protests and set me down softly on a chair in the waiting room. Christy went to the front window, explaining the situation and signing me in. Harry sat down next to me but didn't say a word or even look at me. He acted as if he was mad at me again and I didn't understand how his moods changed so quickly. Just an hour ago he was kissing me like I'd never been kissed before. It didn't make any sense.

A nurse called me back and got me situated in a room. Harry and Christy followed behind me and sat down in a couple of fold out chairs next to my hospital bed. The nurse propped my leg up and cleaned the wound with peroxide and antiseptics. I squeezed a fist full of the sheet on the bed in order to not scream out in pain.

A doctor entered the room next, examined the cut and confirmed Jon's statement of it needing stitches. My nerves flew sky high as he prepared to stitch me up and my face contorted in pain as he gave me a shot to numb the area. He left then, telling us that he would be back in fifteen to do the stitches.