John Francis

Jon moved gently from Amanda’s side and went to the door. An older man was standing there with a black physician’s bag.

“Mr. Bon Jovi? I’m Dr. Jamison.”

“Please come in…” Jon motioned for the doctor to enter, directing him over to where Amanda sat, her shirt held in front of her.

“What’s the problem here?”

The doctor asked the two in general, then Amanda lifted her face to his. Wide eyes met hers and he turned to Jon. Providing the answers to the doctor’s unspoken questions, Jon told him what had happened to her. Nodding, he turned his attentions to Amanda. He checked the swelling of her face and her pupils, then had her turn so he could see her back. She had to drop her pants somewhat for him to see the area there where she had also landed.

The doctor cleaned the abrasions and applied an antiseptic cream and left bandages with instructions on further use. He told Jon to get ice and advised Amanda to hold it to her face for 20 minutes on and then 20 minutes off for the next few hours.

“You’re going to have some pretty serious bruising, but we won’t know how severe until tomorrow. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Just aching all over from falling backwards. I got the breath knocked out of me.”

“Don’t take aspirin as that promotes bleeding, take Tylenol tonight and if you haven’t improved, call me tomorrow and I’ll provide a prescription pain killer.” Looking between the two questioningly, he continued, “Unless there’s a chance you might be pregnant?”

Amanda shook her head, “No, no chance of that, I can’t have children.”

The doctor gave a small smile. “I’m sorry, but I needed to be sure before prescribing a narcotic.”

“No problem. Thank you so much. I feel really foolish about what happened.” Amanda admitted to the doctor.

“We’re the ones who should be apologizing to you. Our streets should be safe to walk.” The doctor grumbled. “Do you want to notify the police?”

Jon asked if they could take a few minutes to decide that and after paying the doctor for his time he left them, leaving his phone number.

Jon had barely closed the door and turned to get the ice bucket when another knock was heard. He went to the door and saw Richie standing there.

“Hey man, I’ve been trying your cell for the last twenty minutes. Who was that leaving the room?” Richie’s voice was half chiding and half curious.

Jon motioned for Richie to come in and pointed to Amanda. She was sitting again with her hair forward, her shoulders rounded, holding her shirt in front of her as she has didn’t yet have bandages on the scrapes.

Richie saw she was not fully dressed and turned questioning eyes to Jon. He was met by eyes that had turned to blue steel. Completely confused, Richie turned between the two of them.

“What the hell is going on?” He asked them in a demanding voice.

Amanda lifted her head in reflex at Richie’s tone. His eyes widened in shock as he took in her grossly swollen face. He gasped loudly.

“Fuck me! What the hell happened to you, honey?”

He crossed over to her and Jon followed, explaining what he had been told. He saw the spreading bruises on her back and could already see that her face was beginning to bruise.

“Stay with her while I get some ice, okay?” Jon asked and Richie nodded yes, his eyes still glued to Amanda’s face.

She tried a half smile at him, wincing a little with the pain. “That bad, huh?”

Richie’s natural inclination was to make her smile, but seeing how her half smile had made her wince, he just shook his head.

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s pretty bad.”

Taking the ice bucket, Jon left the room closing the door behind him. He sagged against the door, taking a few calming breaths as anger spread through every fiber of his body. A moment later the urgency of his errand had him rushing to fill the ice bucket.

Jon quickly returned with the ice. Taking the ice from Jon, Richie went into the bathroom to prepare a towel for Amanda’s face. Jon bandaged Amanda’s back and she slipped her sweater back on. Bringing the towel full of ice to her, she put it against the left side of her face, letting out a sharp hiss as it made contact. Jon picked up the room phone and called down to the front desk for a bottle of brandy. When it arrived a few minutes later, he gave Amanda a small glass. Sipping the brandy, she let the warmth flow through her, settling her nerves a little more.

“I don’t really want to call the police…” she started talking to the two men.

Richie shot Jon a look, “The press…” Jon nodded, “Yeah, either way…” Richie nodded back. She looked from one to the other as they seemed to be speaking in some sort of code.

Richie spoke again. “It’s gonna be more than a few days.”

Jon answered. “Not happening.”

“Not you…” Richie questioned.

“Hell yes!” Jon was quick with his response.

“Ok, let’s do it.” Richie nodded at his friend. They both turned to Amanda.

“You two want to explain that conversation? ‘Cause you’re killing me with this back and forth stuff. I feel like I’m at a tennis match.” She raised an eyebrow, then wished she hadn’t.

Jon explained what he and Richie had been discussing.

“The press will pick up on this, honey, whether you try to stay inside somewhere until it heals or when go out. I don’t want to leave you behind and it’s gonna be more than a few days until you’re healed. Because of the press Richie is concerned about me going with you to the police station, however, I’m going and you’re making a report!”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me. Are you telling me or asking me?”

He took a deep breath. “Asking?”

“Okay then, let’s go.”

They got their jackets and as they were walking out Jon called to the limo driver to meet them in front. As Amanda was still a bit unstable from the fall, both men offered their support by holding onto her arms. The limo driver was there within ten minutes and they were brought to the local police station. The two men entered with her and the duty officer saw her condition, immediately asking if he could help them. Amanda explained what happened, where she was when it happened, that there were at least seven men and that the biggest was named Sean, who had very dark hair and was clean shaven. She identified him as the man who had struck her. They took her statement and photographs of her injuries. After asking the two men if either had witnessed the attack, the officer didn’t take further information from them.

Within an hour Amanda was finished and they were on their way back to the hotel.

“I didn’t want to do that, but it was the right thing. They might try that or something worse with another woman and I don’t want that to happen.”

They walked Amanda to the room, but before entering Jon nodded to Richie that he wanted to talk to him. Exhausted from the emotions of the evening and her injuries, she applied ice one more time with Jon sitting on the bed holding it to her cheek, but fell asleep quickly and deeply. He waited another fifteen minutes to make sure, then left her a note that he was with Richie and went to his friend’s room.

~~~

Richie’s door was partially open as he was expecting Jon. “Is she okay?”

Jon nodded. “She fell asleep.” He had brought the brandy with him and poured himself a glass.

“Christ! Did you see her face?” He asked Richie.

“Yeah, she’s gonna be worse tomorrow too.” Richie looked hard at Jon. “Listen, I know you’re pissed about this, but it was just a wrong time wrong place kinda thing. You know that, right?”

“Of course! I’m not mad at her, but I could kill the guy who hit her!”

“I know, I know, but it ain’t gonna happen so just be there for her, okay?”

“Yeah…shit!” Jon swore low and long. “Okay, enough. I better get back in there. I don’t want her to wake up and be alone. See you tomorrow.”

“Call me if you need anything, man.”

“Thanks, Rich.”