Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,78

should see the other guy.”

My uncle appreciated my jab at humour, and he chuckled, but nobody else in the room did. They hadn’t cracked so much as a smile since I’d woken up this morning. It was starting to grate on my nerves. I knew what had happened to me was very serious, and I definitely knew it wasn’t a laughing matter, but I was okay. I was going to recover from my injuries, and the piece of scum who caused them in the first place was in police custody.

Jacob was right when he said Jensen couldn’t hurt me anymore.

“Have you spoken to the police?” my uncle asked after he kissed my forehead.

I nodded. “They were here a few hours ago. They came after I woke up.”

Drew and her friend Jack had already given their eyewitness report of what they’d encountered a few days ago in Jensen’s apartment. Early in the afternoon I gave my statement. It was embarrassing and shameful, but I had to tell them how I knew Jensen in the first place. My father feared Jensen’s defence would play on that and somehow get him off the hook, but the officers assured us that he was tied up by the balls with the eyewitness reports and the condition I was found in.

They informed us that he was being charged with assault, attempted rape and attempted murder. He was refused bail and wouldn’t even get a formal trial because the evidence against him was too great – that and the fact that he was caught red-handed. Drew’s friend Jack had subdued Jensen until the police arrived and they took over. The most Jensen would see of a courtroom was the day he’d be taken for sentencing.

He couldn’t deny what he did – well, he could, but that wouldn’t help him. He would get locked up for what he did to me, and the sentence wouldn’t be light.

I was very happy about that.

My father filled my uncle in on what happened with the police, and Uncle Harry was delighted that justice would come to Jensen, though he was gutted he wouldn’t have a chance to break every limb on his body before he was sent to prison – his words, not mine.

“How was your trip?” I asked, changing the topic to something that didn’t turn everyone’s stomach.

My uncle smiled. “It was great, but it will be my last. I’m getting too old for those long-haul flights.”

I nodded in agreement. “I don’t know how you’ve done so much travelling. I can barely sit still long enough to watch a television show.”

That made the room laugh and relieved me greatly. Their sense of humour hadn’t died off after all!

“Have you had many visitors?” my uncle asked as he sat next to me.

I nodded. “Kale’s parents came to see me today. So did Lavender and her boyfriend, Daven. She blames herself for what happened because she dropped me off at his apartment, but I told her that was stupid. If she’d come in with me, God only knows what he would have done to both of us.”

The males in the room seethed in anger. I adjusted my position on the bed and groaned as pain spread down the left side of my ribcage.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whimpered.

My mother and nanny were on their feet and on either side of me, helping me lie back. Their faces twisted with emotion when tears fell from my eyes. I tried my hardest not to cry, but the pain was too powerful.

“Mum,” I whimpered.

She leaned over and kissed me. “I’ll press your morphine button, and it will give you instant relief, okay?”

Yes.

“Yeah, do that,” I hissed in pain.

My mother pressed the button the nurse had shown her how to use earlier, and not ten seconds later the pain began to seep away, replaced by bliss.

“You should try some of this medicine, Uncle Harry,” I slurred as my good eye grew heavy. “It’d stop you complaining about your back pain all the time.”

“Cheeky mare,” my uncle said, laughing.

My lip quirked at the laughter of my family and then, without warning, I fell into a deeply medicated sleep that felt really bloody good.

Morphine was the shit.

It had been six weeks since Jensen had attacked me and put me in the hospital, and three weeks since he had been tried and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

I was more than ready to put Jensen and the attack behind me. I was so overtired of hearing