4| Hospitals and Heros

After the police, firemen, and paramedics arrived at the scene, I was gently pulled from my car and placed on a gurney as they loaded me into an ambulance. I stayed alert throughout the process, but the feeling of the accident and the sensation of being loaded into an ambulance was all too familiar to me, as images of my past accident flashed in my mind. Panicked, and after a final request to call my dad, I somehow lost consciousness before making it to the hospital.

When I finally woke up, I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I was in a hospital bed with my arm now in a sling and a thick bandage over my shoulder. My dad was in the room, but he was chatting with an officer and another man off in the corner. The officer wasn't doing much of the talking, but the man next to him was holding something in his hands that looked to be an FBI badge. He was a very large man--muscular and definitely above 6' as he was much taller than my dad. He was dark skinned, bald, and looked to be in his 50's. He was dressed in a suit, and he spoke with conviction, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

"Sir... your daughter is in danger. Now that she's medically stable, she can't stay here. As soon as she wakes up, you both need to come with me to the station."

At the mention of danger, memories of what had just happened to me came flooding back into my groggy mind. It was enough to completely overtake my body again and tears immediately sprung to my eyes.

"Dad?" I croaked out, wanting him by my side to provide me with a little bit of comfort.

Without hesitation, my dad rushed to me. He sat on the edge of my bed, placing a palm on top of my head and running it from my forehead down my cheek. "Hey honey. I am so glad you're okay," he breathed. On the outside, he looked calm, but I could see the fear and sadness in his eyes. Something wasn't right.

Off in my peripherals, I noticed the man in the suit exit the room and begin talking with one of the doctors. "What... what's going on? Why is the FBI here?"

My dad scrutinized my face for a moment as if surprised I figured out who the man in the suit was. "It's complicated, Emmy. They're going to explain it all to us, but right now they gave everyone orders to leave the hospital. They're going to discharge you, and you're to go with SSA Hale," he explained, gesturing to the suited man before continuing, "to the station. I am supposed to drive separately and meet you there."

My body trembled. There was so much to process. I couldn't wrap my head around what had happened, I was still sore all over and feeling groggy from whatever pain killers I was given, and now they were saying I had to relocate with an unfamiliar FBI agent without my dad?

I opened my mouth to question everything when the doctor walked in, ending the conversation.

"Okay, Emery. We are going to have to discharge you, so I just need to go over some things with you before you leave. How are you feeling?"

"Um... I'm okay." I answered. That was a loaded question, but I assumed he was only referring to my arm, which actually didn't feel too terrible at the moment.

"That's good. Basically, the bullet hit you in the upper arm near your shoulder, but you were extremely lucky with the placement. It didn't hit any major blood vessels and it was a to and through wound, which means the bullet exited immediately and didn't cause further damage. It's definitely going to be sore for a while because it went through the muscles, so you need to be careful with it, and it's best to keep the sling on for the next day or two; you don't have to sleep in it, but just when you're moving around. Take ibuprofen when you need," he explained.

I was listening to him, or at least listening as much as I could. I knew he said I was lucky, but honestly, I wasn't feeling too lucky at the moment.

"Wash the wound with clean water 2 times a day and do not use peroxide or alcohol; it could slow the healing. If you want, you can cover it with a thin layer of petroleum jelly, like vaseline, and a bandage, which is what you have on now. Replace the bandage as needed and make sure to keep it clean and dry. If you need, an ice pack can also help with the swelling," he rambled.

I felt like my brain was mush as I could barely register these care instructions. They all seemed basic to me anyway. I was too occupied thinking about SSA Hale and what he had to talk to us about, and why they were rushing me out of here so quickly; I mean, hospitals were supposed to be safe, weren't they?

As soon as the doctor concluded telling me how I didn't sustain any further injury from the crash, other than a minor concussion and some severe whiplash that would hurt later on, he said I was free to go.

As to not completely fall apart, I focused on one task at a time to preoccupy my mind from the vivid imagery of the crime. I slowly stood from the bed, and the nurses helped me to change from my hospital gown into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt that my dad had brought for me.

Then, before I knew it, I was being rushed from the hospital under the protective arm of SSA Hale and a couple officers following suit.

***********

I was now seated in a tiny room at the local station on a hard, uncomfortable chair. It looked to me like an interrogation room, which made me even more on edge than I was before. I was seated alone as Mr. Hale, or Chief Hale as he liked to be called to keep things simple, went to get things in order.

Leaving me alone with my thoughts before trying to speak to me probably wasn't the smartest idea. I was a blubbering, shaking mess by the time my dad finally arrived at the station to join me.

He held me in a tight hug, not asking questions, not begging me to speak, just hugging me and giving me the comfort that I needed. The hug was kind of hurting my sore body, but I didn't care. It was his strong embrace that helped me get through relaying every last horrific detail to Chief Hale.

After listening to my story with a furrowed brow and hardened expression, he placed a file on the table before us. It was a thick file, and I had to wonder what kind of criminal could ever acquire a file that large... after all, how many crimes could a few shooters possibly commit?

My questions were soon answered as Chief took us through the file, relaying his theories about what most likely took place at the store tonight, and the motive behind the shooting.

"A mob? Here in Iowa? That seems unlikely..." My dad thought out loud after listening to Chief.

"As unlikely as it is, Mr. Starr, it happens. From our understanding, the grocery store in your town is family-owned, correct?"

We both nodded our heads in response, urging for him to continue.

"Background checks on the family revealed the owner was once part of one of the largest mob's in the FBI's database. From what we know about them, nobody is allowed to leave after becoming a member. Turns out, Mr. Solara left the mob years ago and came here to start a family. They are relentless, and he and his family were the targets of the attack. However, there cannot be witnesses, and that's why they shot everyone at the store tonight."

I shook in my chair, remembering vividly the kind smile of Mr. Solara as he gave me my change just moments before the shooting, and the bodies of the innocent customers who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time; much like myself.

"Emery... Mr. Starr... I'm not going to lie to you. The mob that Emery is now a target of is extensive. We've been trying to learn the identity of the kingpin and all his members so that we can put a stop to them once and for all. The problem is, they are unpredictable. They show up and disappear out of thin air, and the second we find and incarcerate one of the members, he gains two more. Until we can get the leader, you won't be safe. He will come after you because without your testimony on this incident, we have nothing concrete to prove the mob's involvement; nobody has ever lived through one of their attacks to testify before."

I let a new wave of tears flow from my eyes as I let the words soak in. Listening to the chief, I realized I was in much greater danger than I knew, and I was terrified. My throat seized as I tried to choke back my sobs.

My dad placed a comforting arm around my shoulder, being careful to avoid my injuries. "Okay. So, what do we do to keep my daughter safe?"

"Well, given the immediate threat to her safety since none of the subjects were apprehended at the scene, she will need to be placed in the witness protection program immediately; and as an added precaution, she will be assigned a bodyguard to look after her."

I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. I never heard of the W*P assigning bodyguards to people, but then again, what did I know?

"We don't usually do this for our witnesses," the chief stated as if he read my mind, "but the crime you witnessed wasn't ordinary, Emery. You are in more danger than most. I'm not saying this to scare you, but you need to be aware."

I nodded my head. I didn't think I had it in me to say anything without completely falling apart. What would I even say anyway?

"Okay, well thank you; I appreciate the extra measures being taken," My dad said, trying to remain calm. "Where is this bodyguard? I'm sorry, but I'm not exactly comfortable with Emery being so close to someone I haven't ever met, especially when it comes to her safety... I'm sure you can understand."

Chief nodded in response before turning his attention to the mirror behind us. "Jaxon, can you come in here, please?"

Seconds later, the door to our tiny room opened, and in walked a striking man. He was tall... very tall; and he was built like a marine. I could see he had muscles even through his black jacket, as the material looked strained over his thick biceps. His ocean blue eyes shone bright in contrast to his tanned skin and chocolate brown hair. I noticed his full eyebrows, long lashes, and his jawline; so sharp and defined it could cut glass. This man was definitely handsome, and incredibly intimidating. He strode forward with a look of determination, confidence, and professionalism, taking his spot behind the Chief, arms crossed over his muscled chest.

"Mr. Starr, Emery; Meet Jaxon Hale, your bodyguard."