Guts Over Fear

Chptr 5

Damon looked over at his sleeping wife. Soft breaths escaped her slightly parted lips and the light from the streetlights mometarily illuminated her face and then fell away, like a kaleidoscope. She was gorgeous, even as she slept. Her blonde hair framed her face in a way that looked like she was resting her head on gold silk sheets and her eyelashes set a shadow against the highest points of her cheeks. Her upturned upper lip was probably one of the things he missed most about seeing her face everyday, even if that was as he towered over her, playing the part of the evil man who didn't want her.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair while pulling slightly, out of stress or habit - he wasn't entirely sure which. He needed to talk to her, to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't her, that it couldn't have been her, that every time he closed his eyes since he met her; he saw her, that every woman that he brought home throughout the course of their marriage was to distract him from giving in to what he wanted.

He pulled into the nearest Vet's Office, hoping that there would be a very understanding, very uninquisitive Veterinarian. He turned off the car and Dalia shot up put of her seat before hissing in pain, the drugs from the hospital having slowly left her system. "Why are we here?" 

"To get you seen to, of course. You can't go much longer without it. The doctor at the hospital wanted to operate imediately."

She rolled her eyes, huffing a breath as she pulled herself out of the seat and into the crisp evening breeze. The two of them slowly made their way into the clinic, hoping to God that they would help her.

The bell above the door rang as they pushed it open, alerting the Vet, who was clearly getting ready to leave. "Oh, sorry, we are closing." laughed the eldery lady, not quite noticing a bent-over, wheezing Dalia.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to hold you up, but is there any way I could persuade you to help me?" Asked Dalia, being more polite to the woman than Damon had seen since she turned up at her homeplace.

"Dear me. What happened to you? Do you need an ambulance?"

"NO!" yelled Dalia before she could stop herself. She cleared her throat and tried to think of an excuse.

"You see Ma'am, my friend here has just left an abusive relationship. I'm helping her get away. He cracked a rib, as far as I can tell. I'm not a medic." Damon shrugged, pulling off the most perfect lie that Dalia had ever seen leave his lips.

"Oh, Goodness! No problem. Bring her on through. I won't let anyone know that you came through here." She sighed, her eyes softening slightly at the struggling Dalia.

"Thank you." Dalia felt bad about taking advantage of this woman, but what she was doing was going to help everyone, including this old lady. That knowledge helped ease the guilt slightly. "I'm also finding it quite difficult to breathe. Is that normal for a cracked rib?" She asked, hoping she could inconspicuously lead the woman into coming to the conclusion of a punctured lung. 

"Is it sore to breathe or can you just not breathe properly?" questioned the vet cautiously.

"I can't breathe properly."

"It could be a collapsed lung. While it can be dangerous, it's not hard to fix. I'll use a chest tube. It will have to stay in there for a few days. You'll also need X-Rays and clean bandages." The woman sat Dalia on the table. "I can do an initial X-Ray and send you on your way with them. That's the best I can do, unless you are sticking around?"

Dalia, who was checking out all the surgical equiptment with a curious eye, shook her head no. "No, I didn't think so, somehow." she smiled.

*****