Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 43

The shouting was making my head pound. Greyson still held me on my feet as the police charged into the room shouting orders. Not long after they had broken Damon and Tony apart, someone laid me out on a stretcher and medics appeared. I groaned when one of them pressed gently on my stomach, but I shook my head when the man asked if the pressure hurt. I didn't want to go to the hospital; all I wanted, was to have some personal space.
It was extremely hot in the back of the ambulance they had carted me up into. Thankfully, my injuries hadn't been serious enough for them to drive me over to the hospital immediately.
"Does this hurt?" Those three words followed a sharp, shooting pain in my side, and I couldn't help but wince. "Oana?" The medic said my name gently, lifting her hand and setting it beside me on the ambulance bed. I held my breath a moment, waiting for the pain to stop, before I answered.
"Yes." I hissed.
The medic offered me a sympathetic smile, before she stood up and asked me to remain where I was. I waited for two minutes, then I slowly sat up in the bed and blinked back the blurriness. When I could see clearly, I slid down off the bed and moaned at the tension in my stomach. Tony had really done it this time.
I shook my head and focused on getting down out of the ambulance. Oddly enough, no one seemed to be paying enough attention to notice me slowly creeping out of the ambulance, pausing every few seconds to wince or grimace until the pain dulled. Finally, I was standing on the driveway, and was able to start hobbling towards the front door.
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched, sucking in a sharp breath and immediately regretting it. Turning, I forgot the pain in my stomach when I saw Damon towering over me with a swollen right eye, and several butterfly stiches around his left eyebrow. And by the tense way he held himself, I guessed those weren't the extent of his injuries.
"I didn't mean to startle you..." He murmured, sweeping his eyes over me. An unsightly image, I was sure.
I let out a breath. "You didn't-"
"Liar."
I frowned, pursing my lips when Damon showed me the hint of a smile. "You look as terrible as I am at lying." I answered, lifting my chin.
Some of the tension drained from Damon's green eyes, and he stepped forward to brush some hair from my face. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Saving my life? Beating the crap out of my murderous step-father? Scaring me two seconds ago?
Damon let his eyes wander away from my face for a moment, before he returned them to me and locked his gaze on mine. "Your step-dad is being admitted to the local psych unit," He started, running a hand through his black hair, "and I'm probably going to get arrested for assault." A flash of humor flitted across his face, before he sobered again.
"If you were going to get arrested, you'd be gone by now." I cocked an eyebrow. "Where's your mom and Greyson?"
Damon chuckled and shook his head. "They're inside with-"
"There you are!" Across the driveway, the female medic started towards me, another, male medic at her heels. Glancing at the man behind her, I frowned.
"Oana? Good gracious girl, what have you gotten yourself into now?" Will, the medic from yesterday stepped forward, eyeing me up and down. "Looks like you really took on the bull this time." He clicked his tongue, glancing at Damon when he shifted on his feet beside me. "You must really be having a bad weekend." He frowned back at me, raising his eyebrows.
"Oana, I'm going to need you to come back to the ambulance. We have to take you to the hospital to x-ray your ribs." The female medic interrupted, but her eyes strayed to Damon beside me.
Who wouldn't look at him?
Even when he was battered and puffy-eyed, he still looked better than half the men I'd ever seen.
"Is that optional?"
"Yes-"
"No." Damon interrupted the medic and looked pointedly at me. I didn't even bother to argue with him. The look in his eyes told me that it would be a waste of time.
*
"Well, Miss Atkins, it appears that you've bruised three ribs on your left side..." The doctor droned on about how there weren't many treatment options, and how I should go about taking care of myself for a few weeks to ensure full recovery. Though the damage wasn't extreme, the man told me that I should still be careful with whatever physical activity I did, and that I should limit the amount of laughing I took part in.

I walked out of the examination room with a stack of papers in my hand about how to care for bruised bones, and sighed. Wincing, I turned down the hall towards the bathroom and ducked inside. Fixing my hair, I paused and glanced down at my baggy clothing. Slowly, I raised the bottom of my shirt and looked in the mirror. Dark pink, purple, and green bruises had already started to form on my stomach, and upon touching a few of them, I decided that I would definitely feel the pain more in the morning.
Would there ever be a day where I would look perfectly normal?
I shook my head, dropping my shirt and snatching my papers from the wet counter beside me. As I left the bathroom, I dropped the stack into the trash can by the door. Pulling out my phone, I let my thumb hover over the unknown number in the call history. It was Damon's. I was debating on whether or not to ask him to pick me up from the hospital. Sucking in a breath, I dialed the number. It rang a few times, before a click sounded, and he answered the phone.
"How did everything go?"
"Damon?"
"Yes?"
I frowned, surprised that he had known it was me. I didn't ever remember giving him my number.
He called you when he found Kenya this morning, you idiot.
He must have gotten my number from her.
"Hello?"
I jumped, startled from my thoughts. "Oh, yeah, everything's fine. I have a few bruised ribs, but that's all."
"Good, I was hoping nothing was broken."
I inhaled. "Yeah, actually, would you mind to pick me up from the hospital-" Damon cut me off by chuckling on the other line. "What?" Was it really that humorous that I needed a ride?
"I'm out front in the parking lot. I'll pull around to the door." Before I could say anything, he hung up.
*
I watched as Damon pulled his black Range Rover up to the front doors of the hospital, and withheld a smile as he rolled his window down and winked at me. It was an odd sight, considering his eye was already swollen half-shut.
"Ready?"
I stepped off the sidewalk and opened the car door, sliding onto the leather seat. "Why are you smiling?" I looked over at Damon to see him switch his eyes off me and point them towards the road as we exited the parking lot.
He smirked and shrugged, running his tongue over his split bottom lip. His eye was slightly less swollen than it had been when I'd ridden off in the ambulance earlier, but it was still purple, and definitely wasn't normal size.
"Did you stop in and check on David?" Damon asked, obviously switching the subject. I gasped. I'd completely forgotten about him! "No?" Damon laughed, glancing over at me as I pulled out my phone.
"I forgot-" I cut myself off as the number to the hospital started to ring.
"Hello?"
"Yes, this is Oana Atkins. I'm calling to check in on my brother David?"
"One moment, please."
I sighed and leaned back against the comfy leather, chancing a look at Damon. He was tapping the steering wheel to some imaginary tune as we waited for the red light. Despite his cheery aurora, I sensed that he felt more sober than he was acting. 
"Yes ma'am, Mr. David Atkins?" I frowned. Damon must have checked him in under my last name.
"Uh, yes..."
The nurse's tone was light as she spoke, "Mr. Atkins is doing well, he's on sleeping medication right now, but would you like to leave a message?"
"No, thank you. Just tell him I called."
As I hung up, I turned my attention back to Damon and set my phone in my lap. After a few moments of silence, Damon sensed my stare and glanced at me.
"Is something wrong?" He asked, his tone less cheery than it had been just a few minutes ago.
I raised my eyebrows. "You tell me."
A hint of a smile flashed across his face before his eyes darkened, and his face slowly sobered. I could see that he was thinking carefully about his next words.
"Why didn't you tell me about your step dad?" The question hit me like a truck, even though I'd known he was going to ask it.
I clasped my hands together and moved my eyes back out toward the road. "You're my boss's brother. It's not any of your buisness." It felt wrong just saying those words. Somehow, Damon felt more important to me than just my boss's brother. I lifted my eyes to look quickly at him when I felt him stiffen. The muscle in his jaw was working, but he gave no hint of how he'd taken my harsh words.
"If I'm being honest, it's probably better that you didn't tell me..." Damon shook his head, "I would've done something I would regret, if you had."