Just Scratches

- DEX -

When I climb into the truck and glance at Auraya, her hands are trembling in her lap, but she is staring silently out the window, still dazed.

"I'm sorry this happened, Raya," I say quietly, turning the key in the ignition and watching all the lights blink to life across the dashboard. She doesn't answer, just squeezes her hands together.

When I realize she isn't likely to buckle herself, I turn in my seat. "I'm going to reach across and grab your seat belt for you, okay?"

She looks down into her lap like she's searching for it, and I slowly reach across her, pulling the buckle with one hand and guiding the belt with the other so it doesn't drag across her. While bent over her like this, I get a closer look at the injury on her head. It looks pretty deep. She's probably going to need stitches.

"Shit," I mumble and click the belt in place. "Hang on. We're going to the hospital. It's going to be okay."

"It's not going to be okay," she says with a trembling voice. "It's never going to be okay. That lady… she's gone. She was just here. I could have pulled her out of the way, but I wasn't paying attention, and now…" Her voice cuts off with a swell of emotion, and I instinctively reach over to hold her hand. And that's where my hand stays… wrapped over hers as I steer us slowly through the city traffic to the closest hospital.

When we finally arrive and I open the passenger door, Raya doesn't move. She is still frozen… still stuck in the trauma unfolding behind her eyes.

"We need to get you looked at," I say gently.

"No, I'm…" she looks down at her hands, still trembling as she holds them out in front of her. "It's just scratches."

"You need stitches, darling. Come on."

The term of endearment flows so naturally out of my mouth that I don't even realize I'm saying it until its too late. I want to groan and take it back, but it's already out there. Thankfully Auraya doesn't seem to notice. Instead of dwelling on it, I offer her my hand and make a mental note to avoid referring to her like that again in the future.

But I'm not prepared for those eyes of hers to meet mine again. When Raya finally looks at me, it's like being punched in the gut. She is crumbling inside.

"Come on, I've got you." I gesture with my hand, urging her to take it and to trust me. After continuing to stare at me for several unsure moments, she finally reaches for it and allows me to help her down.

I grab her bag and help steer her across the parking lot and through the emergency room doors, trying my best to ignore how she is now clinging to me like I'm the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth. And trying my best to ignore how the protective instinct in my chest unfurls again in response, ready to fight off any more threats that might appear out of nowhere.

We get Raya checked in and seated, and I lean forward on my knees—scanning the rest of the waiting room and wondering all of the waiting room thoughts… what kind of other tragedies have gathered here, who is in danger of losing loved ones at this very moment, how long the wait is likely to be…

"I really don't need to be here," she says next to me, sounding calmer now. But it's deceptive. If she doesn't believe she needs to be here, she's still not thinking clearly.

"Trust me, you really do," I glance back at her. "Is there anyone you can call? Anyone who should be here with you?"

Her brows furrow like she's trying hard to concentrate on the answer. "Maybe my sister."

When I find the cell phone in her bag and hand it over, Raya unlocks it but then stares at the screen with a blank expression.

"What's her name?" I ask, holding my hand out for the phone back, and she gives it to me.

"Rory."

I open her contacts and scroll to the R names, not missing the fact that Lawson's name is not saved in the L section yet. "Raya and Rory. Cute."

There is a little photo next to her sister's name that fills the whole screen once I click on it and it begins dialing. They don't look very much alike. I think of Lawson and I and how no one ever believes we are brothers. Lawson has the classic blonde hair, blue-eyed European features like our father does whereas I take after my mother—dark eyes, dark hair.

Rory's voice answers, but it's a recorded message for her voicemail. They may not look alike, but the sisters' voices are very similar.

"It went to voicemail," I tell her and hand the phone back. "Would you like to leave a message for her?"

"She works a lot. It's okay. I've bothered her too much recently anyway." She ends the call and stares at her phone again.

"We can try back in a little bit. I'm sure she'll answer. Or you can text her."

"No, she'll panic." Raya shakes her head quickly and drops the phone back into her bag. "I'm alright on my own. Thanks for bringing me, though."

I squint suspiciously at her and then lean back in the chair. "Are you trying to get rid of me so that you can leave without anyone stopping you?"

She smiles without answering, avoiding my eyes. God, that smile—even if it's only half-hearted.

"I'm not going anywhere. You're going to have to put up with me for now. At least until you are stitched up and taken home."

"I can take the bus," she says, the tremor finding its way back into her voice. That's how psychological shock works… the emotions can ease and then quickly swell again without any warning at all. "I take the bus all the time," she insists, trying to clear her throat.

"You're not taking the bus, Auraya." I groan and rake a hand down my face.

Seriously? She takes the bus? When crime on the city's public transit is at a seven-year high?

"Mr. Dex, really… you should get back," she insists, wringing her hands together. "You have a lot of work to do."

"Listen," I say, dropping my voice, because for some reason people take me more seriously that way. "First of all, stop calling me Mr Dex. Dex or Alexander is perfectly acceptable. Secondly, everything at work will still be there when I get back. I'm not leaving you here alone, Raya."