it was happening in someone else’s office.
“Mercy,” I said urgently, looking into her eyes.
She winced, lifting her hand to come to a rest right above her hairline.
Blood started to seep between her fingers, causing my stomach to roll.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, getting up to stand.
But when she stood, her face flashed to a deathly white and she looked down in horror.
I followed the movement of her eyes and stepped back in horror.
Horror only because she was bleeding from between her legs, and badly .
I scooped her up in my arms and started to run down the hall.
The first thing I did was place her into her seat before buckling her in. The next thing I did was rip my t-shirt off and hand it to her. “Put it over the cut on your head,” I ordered.
She complied gingerly, placing the t-shirt over her cut, and I walked around to my side of the car after closing her door softly.
I was glad we’d taken the cruiser today, because I utilized the lights and sirens as I sped frantically to the hospital.
Mercy’s jeans were saturated with red from the apex of her thighs all the way down to her knees in bright red blood.
She was staring straight ahead of her, eyes locked on the road in front of us as I weaved in and out of traffic.
Her hand that wasn’t covering the wound over her head, though, was still clutched tightly in mine.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said softly.
I looked over at her eyes to find them on me.
My doubt must’ve shown on my face because her features softened. “It’s not over yet.”
That was all she said until I pulled my cruiser into the emergency drive at the ER entrance, and rushed to her side.
I scooped her up much like I had before, walking directly through the hospital doors.
The people in the front room rushed around at seeing all the blood, and started taking her straight back to a room.
“What’s her history?” The nurse who was the first one to us, asked.
“She’s pregnant and took a hard fall. Her head hit the corner of the desk, and that’s how she got the head lac,” I told them, following them as they opened door after door.
We finally made it to the back of the hospital where she led us into the room furthest to the right.
“Is she allergic to anything?” The nurse asked as the doctor entered the room.
“ She can answer. And she is not allergic to anything ,” Mercy said tiredly.
“Sir, if you can leave the room while we perform the internal…” the doctor started to say, but Mercy started to fight.
“No!” She screeched, pulling away from the nurse’s hands and into my chest.
She practically crawled up my chest, and I looked at the doctor who was staring at Mercy with not a little amount of concern.
“She was raped six weeks ago,” I said softly. “She’s not comfortable with having a man do this. You’ll need to find a woman. Preferably one that’s small.”
He nodded and left without another word, and a woman returned not long after with the name Dr. A. Abernathy embroidered on the breast pocket.
“Hello,” the woman said softly. “I’m Dr. A. Can I see you now, dear?”
Mercy turned her head so it was no longer buried under my chin, enabling her to see the sweet looking doctor.
She was in her late twenties, and had long blonde hair that came down to her waist. It was pulled back in a low ponytail out of her face, allowing me to see her pretty blue eyes.
Eyes that were filled with sadness and hurt.
The nurse that was already in the room, gently took a hold of Mercy’s hand, and helped her onto the bed.
“Do you want us to cut your pants off or let your husband take them off?” The nurse asked softly.
“Husband,” she said softly.
Something warmed inside of me at hearing those words.
Moving slowly, I gestured towards the door. “Close it.”
The doctor nodded and turned to close it, then kept her back turned to us.
I slowly worked the pants down Mercy’s legs, shimmying them over her hips and down
“Mercy,” I said urgently, looking into her eyes.
She winced, lifting her hand to come to a rest right above her hairline.
Blood started to seep between her fingers, causing my stomach to roll.
“I’m okay,” she said softly, getting up to stand.
But when she stood, her face flashed to a deathly white and she looked down in horror.
I followed the movement of her eyes and stepped back in horror.
Horror only because she was bleeding from between her legs, and badly .
I scooped her up in my arms and started to run down the hall.
The first thing I did was place her into her seat before buckling her in. The next thing I did was rip my t-shirt off and hand it to her. “Put it over the cut on your head,” I ordered.
She complied gingerly, placing the t-shirt over her cut, and I walked around to my side of the car after closing her door softly.
I was glad we’d taken the cruiser today, because I utilized the lights and sirens as I sped frantically to the hospital.
Mercy’s jeans were saturated with red from the apex of her thighs all the way down to her knees in bright red blood.
She was staring straight ahead of her, eyes locked on the road in front of us as I weaved in and out of traffic.
Her hand that wasn’t covering the wound over her head, though, was still clutched tightly in mine.
“It’s going to be okay,” she said softly.
I looked over at her eyes to find them on me.
My doubt must’ve shown on my face because her features softened. “It’s not over yet.”
That was all she said until I pulled my cruiser into the emergency drive at the ER entrance, and rushed to her side.
I scooped her up much like I had before, walking directly through the hospital doors.
The people in the front room rushed around at seeing all the blood, and started taking her straight back to a room.
“What’s her history?” The nurse who was the first one to us, asked.
“She’s pregnant and took a hard fall. Her head hit the corner of the desk, and that’s how she got the head lac,” I told them, following them as they opened door after door.
We finally made it to the back of the hospital where she led us into the room furthest to the right.
“Is she allergic to anything?” The nurse asked as the doctor entered the room.
“ She can answer. And she is not allergic to anything ,” Mercy said tiredly.
“Sir, if you can leave the room while we perform the internal…” the doctor started to say, but Mercy started to fight.
“No!” She screeched, pulling away from the nurse’s hands and into my chest.
She practically crawled up my chest, and I looked at the doctor who was staring at Mercy with not a little amount of concern.
“She was raped six weeks ago,” I said softly. “She’s not comfortable with having a man do this. You’ll need to find a woman. Preferably one that’s small.”
He nodded and left without another word, and a woman returned not long after with the name Dr. A. Abernathy embroidered on the breast pocket.
“Hello,” the woman said softly. “I’m Dr. A. Can I see you now, dear?”
Mercy turned her head so it was no longer buried under my chin, enabling her to see the sweet looking doctor.
She was in her late twenties, and had long blonde hair that came down to her waist. It was pulled back in a low ponytail out of her face, allowing me to see her pretty blue eyes.
Eyes that were filled with sadness and hurt.
The nurse that was already in the room, gently took a hold of Mercy’s hand, and helped her onto the bed.
“Do you want us to cut your pants off or let your husband take them off?” The nurse asked softly.
“Husband,” she said softly.
Something warmed inside of me at hearing those words.
Moving slowly, I gestured towards the door. “Close it.”
The doctor nodded and turned to close it, then kept her back turned to us.
I slowly worked the pants down Mercy’s legs, shimmying them over her hips and down
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