SHE WANTED TO PUKE. Her body convulsed. Every part of her ached.
“Lach.”
Her voice was dry, her throat scratched.
“Hey! Hey, she’s awake.”
Someone grabbed her hand; another rush of pain. Her head throbbed, but she rolled it to try blinking the figure next to her into focus.
“Lachlan?”
“I’m here,” he said, his kiss warming the back of her hand.
She couldn’t really see him. Or she could, but the edges blurred, slipping in and out of each other in the glare of light.
“I’m not dead.”
“You’re not dead,” he said, tightening his grip.
Recoiling wasn’t possible, but her other hand was heavy. She couldn’t even lift it. “Where am I?”
“Hospital,” he said. “You scared us.”
“Us?”
“Was it McDade?” Lachlan asked. “He did this to you?”
Did what? Focusing was a struggle.
“No,” she said, trying to frown. “No. No… What’s going on? I don’t… Where are we?”
“Don’t rush her.”
Her attention moved to that voice. “Grandpapa?”
“We’re all here, Ser, honey.” Someone touched her leg over whatever covered it. “We’re here for you.”
“Who is…? What?”
“She’s disoriented,” Lachlan said.
“Yes, she’ll need time to recover.” Was that her dad? “Don’t rush her.”
“We need a statement,” Lachlan said. “I need to know who to take down.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Yes, her father. “The investigation will need to be impartial. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it. None of us should.”
“He tried to kill her.”
“We don’t know that. We don’t know what happened.”
“Ser will tell us,” Lachlan said. “Sersha, honey, what happened? You were only a few blocks from McDade’s club.”
From Stag. She remembered going there… but she hadn’t got in.
“My head hurts,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Your injuries are severe,” her father said. “You have a concussion. Torn ligaments in your wrist. Bruised ribs—”
“Don’t scare her,” her grandfather said. “Give her time.”
The alley. The attack.
“The docs need…” Her brother’s voice was somber enough that she opened her eyes to try seeing him again, but she still couldn’t distinguish much in his features. “They need consent to do a rape exam.”
“Oh, God,” she groaned, warm heat slipping from her eyes when she closed them.
“We don’t know that she was raped.”
“We’ll get him,” Lachlan said, taking her hand higher. “Whatever it takes, honey, you know I won’t stop until he’s off the streets.”
Swallowing again, she parted her dry lips. “They,” she croaked. “There were two of them.”
“Two?” Lachlan asked, odd hope in his voice.
“Can I have water?”
He let her go and stood, then he was directing a straw between her lips. “The more you can tell us, the easier it will be to track them down. Take your time. Tell me what you remember.” The pain in her head pulsed every time she sipped. “They’ve got you loaded up on pain meds. Tell me what you can and then you can rest.”
“She might not want—”
“Yeah, but she might,” Lachlan snapped.
Her brother snapping? At her father? Maybe she’d woken up in a parallel universe.
“Lach,” she said, releasing the straw, her hand rising and flopping down under its own weight.
“I’m here.”
“I want you to… stay here.”
“I’m staying,” he said, grabbing her hand again. “I’m staying, honey. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you remember.”
She tried to shake her head. “Lach.”
“What, honey? I’m here.”
“Just us.”
“Just… Everyone clear out.”
“No, we’re not—”
“Go!”
“We’ll go,” her grandfather said. “We’ll be just outside.”
Movement and door sounds followed, but she couldn’t concentrate and kept her eyes closed, attempting to relax and steady her breathing.
“I hurt everywhere.”
“I’ll ask them to up your meds,” he said. “I don’t know if they can, but I’ll ask.”
She managed a smile. “If you ask the nurses, they will. You’re a stud around here.”
“Guess you’re feeling better.”
Not on the pain scale and her memory was fuzzy, but she remembered her brother. And being there with…
She frowned, rolling her head on the pillow in his direction. “Is Evander still here?”
“He’s on the fourth floor. I checked. As far as I know, he doesn’t know about this or that you’re here.” That wouldn’t last. “I won’t let him hurt you. Was he involved?”
“I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her head still. It hurt more when she moved. “I don’t know what…”
“Just tell me whatever you can. Is there something you didn’t want to say in front of Dad?” There was plenty she didn’t want to say in front of their father. “Is it about the assault? What they did to you? Do you remember…?” His pause was ominous. “Were you raped?”
“I don’t know,” she said, details blurred. “I think I passed out.”
“You hit your head hard. More than once. Do you consent to the exam? I know it will be uncomfortable, but the more evidence we can gather—”
“I scratched him,” she said, still disconnected from her arms somehow. “At least one of them… I think.”
“Good.”
Her lips curled again. “The first guy was tall. Over six feet… I kept trying to focus. I knew you’d want a description… When they started… I thought maybe I wouldn’t make it out and scratched him, so—”
“Hey,” he said, his thumb moving on her cheek, swiping away the free-falling tears she hadn’t noticed. “I will get him. I promise you. No matter what it takes.”
Except she didn’t want to break her brother’s good heart. “I shouldn’t have been walking there.”
“Why were you?”
Pain between her eyes intensified. “I don’t know, I can’t remember. I remember I was… He came from nowhere. I didn’t see anything. Not a… I didn’t see anything; I was just picked up and… we were in the alley.”
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
Sealing her lips, she inhaled through her nose, fighting to quell the nausea. “I need you to do something.”
“Okay.”
“You might not understand it, but… I need you to do it.”
“Whatever you need. What is it?”
She took another fortifying breath. “I need you to tell Strat to come in.”
“Strat?” he asked, confused. “Kurt Stratford? Imogen’s dad?” She managed a slight nod, her eyes still closed. “Why would he…? What do you mean come in?”
“If he’s heard, he won’t be far away,” she said. “And he’ll have heard.”
“How is he connected to this? Did he hurt you?”
“No,” she said and forced her eyes open. “Please, Lach. Please ask him to come in and talk to me.”
“Okay,” he said, none the wiser as he rose to take his phone out. She assumed anyway, it was just a black blur. “I don’t have his number. I’ll need to call Immie.”
“Great,” she said, closing her eyes.
So if he didn’t already have the story from Imogen’s point of view, he’d get it then. Dumping one shock on another.
“Hey… No… No… Thanks… Listen, can you… Yeah, how did you know…? Okay… I’ll tell her.” A moment later, he picked up her hand again. “Im says you should get better soon.” Wow, okay, so she didn’t hate her guts. “And she already knew you’d want her dad. Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Another time,” she said. “You should go tell the doctor people I consent to the exam before I pass out again.”
“Are you dizzy?”
“My vision’s blurred… I feel sick.”
“I’ll tell the doctor, but—”
A door burst open. “Scamp.”
She smiled. “Strat.”
“What the fuck?”
“I know.” He grabbed her heavy hand, sending a shudder of searing pain up through her arm. “Ow, don’t do that.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Strat,” Lachlan said. “Want to tell me how you’re involved in all this?”
“Go talk to the doctor,” she said, using all of her energy to squeeze his hand. “I need to talk to Strat for a minute.”
Her brother would be confused. Of course he would. But he kissed her hand again and retreated to depart.
“What the fuck happened?” Strat asked, striding around the bed to grab the hand Lachlan had held.
“Are we alone?”
“As far as I can see, yeah,” he said, sinking down, probably into a chair. Had Lachlan been sitting? “You were on your way to Stag? Why the fuck were you walking—”
“I was at Stag. I mean, I got a cab there and… He’s done with me. We’re through.”
“Wait,” he said in a puff of breath. “Tell me he didn’t do this to you.”
“No,” she said, using his grip to pull herself up a little more. He adjusted her pillows, helping her sit straighter. Nausea washed over her again. She breathed until the worst of it passed. “You need to talk to Conn.”
“Okay, want me to kick his ass?”
If her torso wasn’t so sore, she might have attempted a laugh. “No. I don’t. I need you alive.”
“He break your heart?”
“No,” she said. “We’re over, that’s fine. You have to tell him they’re on the edge.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know who it was, but they wanted information… I didn’t tell them anything, but whoever they are, they’re getting desperate. Tell him it was about the Harvest deal.”
“The Harv…Shit, Scamp…” He let go of her hand when he surged to his feet. “They hit you because you’re a McDade? He cuts you loose and then you get your ass handed to you for being his girl?”
“It wasn’t like that. It doesn’t matter,” she said. “If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been someone else. And that’s the point. If they’re desperate enough to lean on an alderman’s granddaughter, they’ll lean on others who aren’t so well-protected. He needs to shore up his defenses.”
“You’re worried about him?” he asked. “This is way more than leaning on you, Scamp. You should be fucking mad.”
“I think you and Lach have got that covered,” she said without the energy to muster any kind of emotion. Maybe the pain meds numbed those too. “Please just tell him.” Her next request wasn’t so easy. “And I… there’s something else.”
His frown returned. “What?”
“Do you know where it happened?” Even she wouldn’t be sure which was the right alley. “Where they…?”
“I can find out.”
Licking her lips, her mouth was drying again. “I was carrying a flash drive.”
“In your purse?”
“It wasn’t in my purse.” Had they stolen her things? The purse wasn’t important. “I need you to find that drive… please. Find it and hide it.”
“What was on it?”
The door opened behind him and a guy in a white coat came in with a woman in scrubs. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick,” she said and tugged on Strat’s hand. “Please.”
“Okay,” he said and kissed her knuckles. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Strat, thank—”
“Don’t worry about it anymore,” he said. “Consider it done.”
He backed out of the way to let the doctor get close. Once he’d left the room, all the tension she’d been holding dropped. Her friend needed to think she was strong. That this would bounce off.
“Your brother said you consented to the rape exam.” She nodded. “I can do it or the nurse can.”
“Whatever,” she said, closing her eyes. “Just do whatever you need to do.”
“We need to ask if you’ve had intercourse in the last seventy-two hours.”
The last seventy-two hours? She wasn’t sure she could count to seven, let alone seventy-two. “Monday,” she said. “I don’t know what day it is.”
“Thursday,” the doctor said. “Did you use protection or is there a chance—”
“We used a condom,” she said, refraining from adding “a lot of them.”
“Okay.”
“But it was…We got rough sometimes.”
“Not this rough,” a sympathetic female murmured.
She smiled at the woman standing by the end of the bed.
“Did he force you?” the doctor asked.
“No!” she said and winced. “No, I just wanted to… if there’s bruising down there, it doesn’t necessarily mean…” Her throat closed. Shit. Why was she…? At least this time she noticed the tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” the doctor said. “We’ll just get set up.”
To investigate her body. To poke and prod and… How could a life change so quickly? She’d been fearless and forthright. Always willing to push herself and there, in that moment, she couldn’t even say the words.
It would get easier. It would.