Torn

chapter 33

I am shaking, and sobbing.  In all honesty, I am bordering on hysteria.  Another person carefully removes the tape from my mouth.   I cling to the body of the person that caught me when I tripped and I keep chanting "Call the police, I need to call Slash." Over and over I say these words between sobs.   Several moments pass before I realize someone is talking to me.

"Wynn, its ok now,"  it finally registers that the person I am hanging on has spoken to me.  I look up and recognize the friendly face of Slash's friend, and bandmate, Duff.   "Guys, I've got her, over here!" 

"I called 911, cops are on their way," Lindsey's voice calls out.  I spin my head and see my best friend standing nearby. 

Behind her, I see Axl and Izzy turn the corner.  "Where is the sonofabitch?" Axl growls.  His eyes land on Brett, who is on the ground holding his knee in pain.

"I'll fucking KILL him!"  I recognize the voice of the man I love.  I turn towards him and I see pure rage on his face. He charges towards Brett.  I see him land a couple punches on Brett's face.  Then a kick to Brett's abdomen. 

"Slash!" I call out.  Duff moves behind me and works to free my hands.  "Slash, I need you."  My hands free now, I rub my wrists.  He hears me call to him and his eyes lock with mine.  For a moment I feel sick.  What if he believed the shit Brett said to him over the phone?

He stands there, not moving for a moment, then he rushes over to me.  I fall into his arms.  I am crying and I keep telling him that I am sorry. 

"Shhhh, baby, you don't need to apologize," he wipes my tears away.  "You did not do anything wrong."  He holds me tight and rubs my head and back. 

The cops arrive, and start questioning us all about what happened.  I fill them in on everything I know as one officer places Brett under arrest.  After I have told my part, Lindsey chimes in.

"Slash called me to go check on Wynn, after he called her," she explains.  "I knew something was up from the things she said.  I called Slash immediately."

"When she called me back, we loaded up our stuff and got here as fast as we could," Slash continues the story.  "I got to our apartment, and nobody was there.  But there were signs of a struggle, and blood."  He pauses and holds me tight. 

The paramedics insist on taking me to the hospital to be checked out.  The doctors determine that I have a mild concussion and have to stay overnight.  Slash stays by my side the entire night.  The nurse wakes me early and takes me for tests.  I smile at my beloved guitarist sleeping in the chair beside my hospital bed.

They have drawn blood, checked my blood pressure and scanned my head.  I am sitting in a wheel chair, waiting to be taken back to my room.  The nurse finally shows up, looking over my chart with a doctor. 

"Well, young lady," the doctor says.  "Looks like you are gonna be ok.  Follow up with your regular doctor in a week," he flips pages in the chart.  "We are gonna send you home, take it easy for a few days."

"You are a very lucky lady," the nurse says.

"Oh, and make sure to check in with your o.b. doctor in the next few days," the doctor adds.  "It appears that the baby is fine, but they will likely want to keep an eye on things.'

"Ok," I agree.  Then what he just said sinks in.  "Wait, What?"

"The baby," he smiles down at me.  "You did know that you are pregnant, didn't you?"

"Pregnant?  Me?"  I can barely speak the words.  Oh my, what is Slash gonna say?