Free Sean by Desiree Wilder Page A

helped her sit up.
    “Yeah,” she said but then pulled her hand from her head and saw the blood. My heart raced and I gasped as I caught her when she fell against me. She was out cold.
    “Brynn!” I shook her. “Brynn!” No response. “Fuck! Brynn!” I was hyperventilating as I carried her to the breakfast bar and dialed 911 on my cell.
    “Calm down, sir,” the operator said after I screamed my address into her ear. “Help is on the way, but I want you to calm down so you can help your girlfriend, okay?”
    “Okay,” I said and tried to take deep breaths.
    “I want you to lay her down and get a clean towel.” I laid her right next to the drawer so I didn’t have to leave her side to get it. “Now, fold it and apply firm pressure to the wound. Is she still unconscious?” I was praying silently as I held her beautiful head. “Sir?” the operator said.
    “Yes, she’s still out,” I said.
    “Okay, keep the pressure on. The paramedics are pulling up now. Stay on the line until…” I hung up, ran to the locked door, swung it open, and ran back to Brynn. She was trying to open her eyes.
    “Shit,” I think she said, but she wasn’t quite awake. She tried to reach up to her head.
    “Brynn,” I whispered, “Just relax, you’re gonna be okay.” I gently pushed her arm back to her side.
    “Sean?”
    “Yes, Brynn, it’s Sean,” I smiled at her unfocused eyes. She squinted and then grinned a little.
    “I fell back,” she said.
    “Yes, you did,” I chuckled.
    “You were being a baby,” she said. She’s gonna be fine.
    “Yes, I was.” She was funny when she was delirious.
    “What’s your name, Miss?” The paramedic was suddenly in her face.
    “Brynn,” she said.
    “What happened?” he asked.
    “We were making out and I fell backwards into the corner of the cupboard.” I just shook my head and smiled at her. So honest, all the time.
    The paramedic looked at me and chuckled. “Well, you need to be more careful next time.”
    “For sure,” she said.
    He checked her out and said she was going to need stitches. He was also concerned about the loss of consciousness and said they’d need to check her out at the hospital. As soon as we got there, I called and got my shift covered for the night, knowing there was no way I was leaving her alone.
    Her doctor was really cool and when Brynn told him we’d been making out on the countertop when she fell back, I thought he was gonna die laughing. “You’re a lucky guy,” he told me. He was less concerned about the loss of consciousness when he found out that was after she saw the blood, but he did a couple of tests , anyway. He said her motor skills were great and he didn’t foresee any further treatment besides the six stitches.
    He told her no shampooing for two days, but she could rinse carefully in the shower to remove the blood. She needed to have someone clean it once a day with a Q-tip and a little soap and water to remo ve any blood or crust that formed, put on some ointment and a clean bandage. She’d need to come back in seven days to have the stitches removed.
    “Can I work out?” she asked.
    “No, not for at least five days. If it looks like it’s healing well, then you can after that, but I’m talking light stuff until after the stitches are out.”
    “I’m a dancer,” she said.
    “ Not for the next seven days you’re not.” He shook his head.
    “Shit,” she said. I squeezed and kissed her hand I’d been holding the entire time.
    “Will you be with her tonight?” he asked me. I nodded. “Watch for any warning signs on this sheet, especially in the next twenty-four hours, just in case.” He handed me a paper about head injuries and what to watch for afterwards.
    “She’s in good hands,” I told him.
    Brynn was quite depressed about them having to shave some of her hair, but they did a really good job by only taking what they absolutely had to. The layers above the wound would cover the spot pretty well, I told