Sally: Part 32

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Part 32

To Sally, waking up from a daze was like wading barefoot through a murky swamp with her hands tied behind her back and blindfolded. But eventually, she got there. A man stood next to her. She blinked profusely, but the blurry figure refused to focus right.

“Wil? What happened?” Oh, God, she shouldn't have spoken. Her throat hurt like fire.

A voice – not Wilson's – answered her. “You're fine now, Sally sweetie. The doctor said you can go home after you've been awake for a couple of hours.”

As he spoke, she recognized him, and her temper boiled slowly, but fiercely. If she could lift even her pinky finger, she'd launch herself out of this bed and wrap the IV cord around his neck.

“Peter? What the hell are you doing here? Where's Wil?”

Peter leaned closer to her, smiling with endearment and compassion. “Sweetie, I don't know how to tell you this...but your Wilson abandoned you.”

“What?” Her brain still hadn't booted up properly, so maybe she misunderstood him.

“I'm sorry, honey, but it's true. He was arrested yesterday when you were brought in, and after your brother bailed him out, he disappeared. No one has seen him since.”

“You're lying,” she spit at him, wishing he would crawl in a hole somewhere and die.

“Oh, sugar, why would I lie? I love you,” he said in a comforting tone, only with Peter, it sounded like he was talking to a child. She hated when people did that. She was a grown woman, not some innocent toddler with her thumb in her mouth.

“You disgust me. Wilson loves me more than you ever did. He didn't abandon me. You did. He's probably just taking care of the animals out at the farm,” she said. “Now go away. I don't want to see you ever again.”

His smile stretched out a tad too evilly. “Face it, Sally. He left you. That's what he does. He killed a girl, and you could have been next. Be thankful I'm here to protect you.”

“It was an accident, what happened to that girl,” she argued, hating that she had to do it.

“And yet...” He spread his arms and looked around. “He's not here. I am.”

Sally shook her head with denial, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. No. There was another reason for Wilson not being here. The hospital kicked him out for his disruptive behavior – she could see him getting himself in that predicament...or he was feeling guilty – she'd always been amazed about that strong guilty conscience of his...or the snake bit him, too, and he was lying in a ditch somewhere dying – oh, God, please don't let it be that one... Yes, very possible reasons. All good enough for her to understand why it wasn't him at her side right now.

Just tell that to her heart. If the reverse had happened and Wilson lay in this bed right now, Hell, Heaven and everything in between couldn't keep her away from his side.

Sally turned to bury her face in her pillow. Her leg ached, her head hurt, but she remembered some of what happened between the snake bite and now. The E.R. doctor, a grandfatherly figure with a kind smile, took a sample of her blood and recorded her vitals, and she remembered telling him about Reggie, so he administered a dosage of antivenom into her system. After that, the hours became a blur and a series of stops and starts where she didn't know what came first in her memory.

Peter crooned something that was supposed to be comforting and put a hand on her back. She jerked away from him. “Get out,” she snarled over her shoulder. “I don't want you here.”

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