Chapter Eighty

Stephanie slowly blinked her eyes open. She shut them quickly. The light hurt. She delicately licked her lips and tried to open her eyes again. Where was she? She tried to look around but the slightest movement made the ache in her head that much worse. She heard a voice across the room.  She turned her head toward it and groaned.  God her head hurt.  Squinting, she could just make out a slender hand curved around the partially opened door and she could hear a word here and there of her friend’s conversation.

Closing her eyes again, she drifted into the blissful nothingness of sleep.

~

Darcy poked her head in the door, Stephanie was still out.  She turned her attention back to her phone.  “Jim, she’s still out.  I’m not leaving until she wakes up and I know she’s okay.”  She sighed and let the door close behind her.  “I’ll never forgive myself for this, babe.  We should have been out there with her not inside having another beer.” 

Jim tried to soothe her.  “You know it’s not your fault sweetie.  You can’t blame yourself.  How could we have known those to assholes would be out there just itching for a fight?”  The more they talked about what happened, the angrier he got.  “And what kind of bastard picks on a girl for fuck’s sake?”  He was just glad they had gotten outside when they had and he and a couple other patrons had managed to pull the behemoths off of her before they could do more damage than they already had.

He took a breath.  “I’m almost done here then I’ll be by to check on you guys.”  He had gone to the police station to find out what Stephanie was going to have to do about pressing charges once she was conscious.  “Hang tight.  I’ll be there soon.”

Darcy no sooner clicked off when the phone in her left hand vibrated.  She had managed to grab Stephanie’s phone off the ground after the police had shown up and they had the two goons in handcuffs.  Even then they had kept up a raging flow of insults and smack talk.  All because their team had lost.  It was only a game for pete’s sake.  Jesus.  She glanced down at the screen.  Some guy named Dean had called four times now.  “Who the hell is Dean” she muttered as she crossed the room and sank down into the most uncomfortable recliner chair she had ever sat in. 

Her poor friend.  Darcy’s eyes stung with tears for the woman lying motionless in the bed.  Her face was bruised, her left eye was swollen shut and her bottom lip was split.  The thick white bandage over her right eye stood out in stark contrast to her dark hair and pale face.  Those thugs had really done a number on her. 

Darcy stroked her fingers over Stephanie’s right wrist where it lay on top of the blankets.  It was wrapped in an ace bandage and her knuckles were swollen.  She had fought back as hard as she could.  She settled back on the chair.  She could only just imagine what other bruises and marks were hidden by the faded hospital gown and blankets.  The only upside to this was the fact that Stephanie had managed to knee one of the cretins in the nuts.  He had still been crying about them being up somewhere in his stomach for days when the police finally hauled him off.

The phone vibrated in her hand.  Dean was calling.  Again.  This time she decided she had better answer it. 

“Hello?” she kept her voice low.

Richie pulled the phone from his ear, checking to make sure he dialed right.  The voice that answered the phone did not sound like Stephanie.  “Who’s this?”

Darcy rolled her neck to work out the stiffness.  “You called me, so I’ll direct that question back to you.  Who’s this?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear to double check he called the right number.  Yep, that was his girl’s number.  How had this chick gotten ahold of her phone?  What the hell was going on?  Only one way to find out.  “This is Stephanie’s” he closed his eyes, not at all happy to be doing this, “boyfriend.  What are you doing with her phone?”

Holy crap!  Richie Sambora was on the other end of the phone!  Keep your cool Darcy. 

Darcy took a calming breath.  “This is Darcy and, Richie, we’ve had a bit of a problem tonight.”

Ah, so this was the Snow White looking broad in the picture Stephanie had sent him earlier.  He’d grill her later.  Right now he wanted to find out what the fuck was going on.  They went to a damn ball game, what the hell could have happened?  “Tell me what’s going on Snow White.”

Darcy rolled her eyes.  Like she hadn’t heard that a million times before.  “Well, Richie, Stephanie’s in the hospital.”

“What?!  What do you mean she’s in the hospital?  What the hell happened? Is she okay?”  Please, God, let her be okay.  He paced the room, stopping by the open door. They were supposed to be leaving soon.  He saw Jon and David walking toward his room.  Great, just great.

Darcy got up and moved away from the bed to the window.  “She’s still unconscious.  I’m not really sure what’s going on other than what I can see from looking at her.  She got beat up pretty bad outside the bar we were at after the game.”

“Fuck.”  That was not what he wanted to hear.  He had been hoping for a flat tire maybe.  A speeding ticket possibly.  But not this.  And he couldn’t even get there to be with her.   Sometimes, his job sucked.  Taking a deep breath to try to calm himself he begged Darcy.  “Tell me what happened.”

Darcy took a breath and told him everything she could remember.

~

Stephanie heard her friend’s voice again.  She turned her head slowly, trying to keep the pain to a minimum.  Squinting, she could make out Darcy’s shape by the window.  She shifted on the bed.

Everything from her hair to her toenails hurt like a bitch.  Getting run over by a truck couldn’t have felt anywhere near as bad as this.  Fuck.  She licked her lips and tried to swallow.  Her mouth and throat felt like sandpaper.  She’d gladly give her entire portfolio for a drink of water.

“Darcy.”   Her voice was no more than a hoarse whisper in the room.

Darcy gasped and turned from the window.  “She’s awake. I’ll call you back.”

“Wait!”  Richie yelled into the phone.  “Don’t hang up yet!”  But he was too late.  All he heard was silence on the other end of the phone.

He threw the phone at the couch and watched it bounce on the cushions.  “Fuck!” he yelled to the empty room.  “This is fucking shit!”  He picked up the phone again and noticed Jon and David standing there.  “What the fuck do you two want?” 

Jon and David both held their hands up in defense.  “Whoa man, what bug crawled up your ass today?”  It wasn’t like Richie to lash out at them like that.  Not since things went to hell with Heather anyway.

“What’s going on?”  Jon asked before David could open his mouth.

Frustration had Richie dragging his fingers through his hair before he called Stephanie’s phone again.  “Stephanie’s in the hospital and Snow White just fucking hung up on me!”

Jon looked at David, snow white? he mouthed.  He looked at Richie, “why is Stephanie in the hospital and what the fuck does Snow White have to do with it?”

Richie ignored them and waited for someone to answer the phone.