Heartsick by Caitlin Sinead Read Free Book Online

Luke says, swift and steady. “But you probably need stitches, and a doctor will need to get the shards of glass out.” He’s stiff. Stern. I barely recognize him for the guy he was back at Sally’s. All heavy, sexy breathing and playful eyes.
    Mandy sighs. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
    “I don’t know, Mandy, that looks pretty bad,” Conrad says.
    “Miss, you’re going to—” Luke starts.
    “Miss?” Mandy says, the skin around her eyes rumpling as she stares at him. Then she turns to me. “Quinn, who the fuck is this guy?”
    I close my eyes for a second. I crouch in front of her, putting my hand on her knee to steady myself. “This is Luke. He’s a guy who’s helping you. And you’re going to listen to him, and we’re going to the hospital.”
    Mandy looks to the stars and sighs. She looks back at me. “Okay, let’s go.”
    Conrad squeezes Mandy’s shoulder. “You let me know if you need anything, anything at all.”
    Mandy nods.
    We head out. Zachary follows.
    “I think you’ve helped enough,” Luke says, flexing his knuckles.
    Zachary clenches his fist, but says nothing. When we’re out of earshot of our house—
    away from Zachary and making our way across the damp bricks and the four blocks to the hospital—Luke says, “I know it may be frightening, but when you’re ready, I would strongly urge you to file a complaint for assault. Guys like that rarely stop—”
    “Oh my God.” Mandy holds both her injured and healthy arms out. I tap her shoulder and shoot her a “be nice” look.
    She pinches her lips and looks at Luke. “I appreciate your help...but you don’t know what happened.”
    “What did happen?” Luke asks, cool as butter.
    “I told you, we were just playing around.” She crosses her arms.
    This still strikes me as odd. I run my hands along my purse strap. But I won’t get anything out of her now, in front of a stranger.
    When we get to the emergency room, a nurse processes her. He looks at her arm. He removes the soaked bandages. As they unravel, he frowns. He mutters something about it being a lot of blood for the wound. I ask him what he means. He won’t elaborate.
    I rub my thumb along my lower lip as he cleans her arm. I don’t know if it’s because the blood is dissipating, but her wound does look better. Just streams of blood running along her skin, instead of a gushing mess. I remember a guest at one of my parents’ parties going on about war injuries while he shoveled caviar into his mouth between words. He said sometimes you think you’ll die, but it’s just blood and smear and your mind roiled. Maybe Mandy’s was like that. All bluster.
    That must be it.
    As Luke sits in the waiting room—he insisted—I go with Mandy into the examining room. She sits on the mattress and leans against the wall, specks of blood seeping onto the white paper spilling from a spool at the top of the bed. Her fingers twiddle against each other in her lap.
    “What happened?” I’m prodding her when she’s already upset, but I don’t care. I keep my shoulders straight.
    “Oh nothing.” She shakes her head.
    “I want to believe you...”
    Mandy stares at me, violet eyes bright and biting. “You know I’d never let a guy hit me. Not again. I’m not like that.” Her voice shakes. I imagine her past experiences jostling around in her throat. I’m one of the few people privy to those past experiences.
    Dr. Brown enters the room with the nurse. “Back again?” She raises her eyebrows. “And on my shift too? Well, let’s have a look.” She wipes away the blood on Mandy’s arm with a sterile cloth. The cuts sprawl across her skin.
    She pushes back on her wheelie stool. “These aren’t too bad. We’ll just clean them up and you’ll be on your way in no time.”
    The nurse touches her arm. “That’s so strange. I swear it looked worse before.”
    Dr. Brown shrugs. “Sometimes small cuts can cause a lot of blood.”
    The nurse dabs on some