Violinist (CENTURIES series: Book #4)

6

"Melody! Oh, Jesus Christ!"

Dan rushed to my little bed in the busy ER, his face and body tremoring in panic, but exuded relief the second he laid eyes on me. His always perfect hair looked disheveled from the amount of times I had to assume he had combed his hands through it. As his eyes took in my battered face and bruised body, he let out a strangled sound and nearly choked me as he crushed me in his arms.

"Mel," He cried in a strained voice against my neck. He squeezed me tighter when I hugged him back. "Oh, God, Mel, I..."

"Schh." I stroked his back with my bandaged hands. The doctor had patched me up and cleaned up the deep cut along my eye socket. I hadn't called Dan until I was sure every spec of blood was gone so he wouldn't have to see me like that. He always worried too much. Always cared about me... "I'm fine, Dan. Doc says I'm good to go home. Only superficial wounds."

"Mel, I'm so sorry," Dan finally drew back to look at me properly. Thankfully the darkness of my skin didn't show the blackish-purple bruises too much, but apparently dark wasn't dark enough to stop him from tearing up. "Did you talk to the police yet? Did you give them a description of—"

"I did. They think they already know who he is. Apparently he's done it before so his face is on record... I'm sure they'll catch him soon."

Dan nodded back, but pressed his lips tightly together, knowing full and all how often these guys were truly caught; Rarely. His eyes slid down to my dress and saw how it was torn some places. He let out a broken sound again. "This is my fault... if I hadn't pressured you into going out—"

"Okay, there's gonna be none of that," I warned him when he was about to start the whole 'it's my fault' speech. "It's nobody's fault but the goddamn shitpiece who assaulted me, so don't even start, Dan. I'm too tired for that."

He pressed his lips tightly together again, but sighed. "Alright... I just... when you didn't come back from the alley and I went out to check, all I saw was your clutch on the ground... Christ, I just panicked, Mel. Worst hour of my life, and then I get that phone call."

I looked at him for a moment as he cupped his face, shaking and fighting what I knew were tears. He was in shock. I pulled him in for another hug, and he gladly clutched me back, crying softy against my shoulder. "It's okay. It's over now." For now. "Where's Kyle? What did you do after I left?"

Dan slowly pulled back, his eyes red. He quickly wiped them down, erasing any tears that lingered on his lashes. "I sent him home and promised to call when I heard anything. He's worried sick, too."

"You should call him and tell him I'm fine," I told, sitting up straighter. "I'll get changed in the meanwhile. Did you bring the bag of clothes I asked for?"

Dan quickly picked up a plastic bag from the floor he had brought, placing it in my lap. "I brought you your flats, your sweatpants and that t-shirt you stole from me you like wearing."

"You're an angel," I tried smiling up at him, seeing a small smile lift to his lips as well, but his eyes didn't quite twinkle the way they were supposed to. I'm sure mine didn't either. It was a start, though. "Go call Kyle. I'll get changed."

After another quick hug, Dan left me to change alone, closing the curtain around my bed. I then begun stripping. My knees hurt as I dragged the loose fabric over my cuts. The asshole had goddamn thrown me onto the asphalt.