“Impressive. Not the first time you’ve taken him down like that, if I recall correctly.”
“What else is he saying happened?”
“That you punched him in the face a couple of times, bloodied and fractured his nose, and gave him two black eyes. After that, he says he blacked out and can’t remember what happened, just that you were long gone when he regained full consciousness.”
It was no trouble to recall exactly what had happened, and Nick’s lip curled as he did. “That sounds almost right, but he’s leaving out a lot, and I didn’t hit him in the nose.”
“Then who did?”
Nick pressed his lips firmly together and didn’t answer.
“Did Beth do that?”
Again, he didn’t respond.
“There’s also the matter of how you dislocated your shoulder. Trey didn’t mention it, and when he was asked about it, he thought you must have done it before or after. Here’s where it gets fishy for me. I talked to Dean Harris, Neil Ericksen, and Jeff Opheim, and they all tell me that you said you dislocated your shoulder breaking down Beth’s door because she was attacked. Neil and Rob both have reports on the damage, so I know that much at least is true. Either you lied to Rob, Neil, and Jeff about Beth being attacked, which I absolutely do not believe, or Trey knows exactly how you dislocated your shoulder and won’t say because he was doing something that could get him in trouble.”
Hal leveled his gaze at Nick and waited. Nick didn’t doubt his lawyer had a very good idea of why he’d broken into Beth’s room that night. Perhaps he hadn’t figured out the exact details yet, but he suspected enough that Nick squirmed beneath Hal’s piercing scrutiny.
“I can’t, Hal. I have to protect her however I can because I couldn’t that night.” Nick rolled his shoulders in a useless attempt to loosen the tension gathering in them and did his best to dispel the suffocating sense of hopelessness and failure. A thought occurred to him, and he wondered again why it had taken Trey so long to make the accusation of assault. Had he worried Beth would report the rape? He’d certainly seemed proud enough of it last Wednesday, bragging to Darryl that he’d done it. “Did anyone happen to say why it took Trey two weeks to accuse me of assault?”
“Supposedly, he didn’t want to report it at all because you were a friend, but he claims he began to fear for his safety because you—and I quote—‘continued to display hostility,’” Hal replied. “While the idea of that is laughable, I do believe he is in fact afraid of you.”
“It’s entirely laughable. I’ve been in a sling the last two weeks.” Nick almost chuckled at that, but he recalled clearly the fear in Trey’s eyes when they’d nearly gotten into it again at the Club Bar last week. “If he is, it’s because his delicate ego can’t handle someone proving he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.”
“This is where things could get tricky for you. Trey has a list of people who claim they have witnessed your hostility. Students and a couple of professors from the college. Can you think of anyone I can talk to who might skew things in your favor and maybe show him as the aggressor?”
“Yeah. The bartender at the Club Bar. Lacey is her name, I believe. She always works Wednesday nights. We were there last week—Michelle, Beth, my brothers, June Montana, and Aelissm Davis. They can all tell you, too.”
“What happened last week?”
“We went dancing, and Trey came in while we were taking a break. He shoved me, and I shoved back.”
“But he initiated it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about that,” Hal said. “It might help you, it might hurt you. Is there anything else—anything at all?”
“That’s it.”
“Your arraignment isn’t until tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock. I’m sorry, but that’s the earliest I could get. Seems the police have been busy today.”
Nick shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen. After documenting that you are the accused and that you are aware of the charges against you, you’ll be asked to enter your plea, and don’t you dare think about pleading guilty. As far as I can see from my preliminary investigations, the only real evidence against you is Trey’s word and the fact that your injuries match what he says, and unless something else comes up, that’s not enough for a conviction.”
“There are also Rob’s, Neil’s, and Jeff’s statements confirming that I was present in Beth’s room when Trey says I assaulted him.”
“Yes, but they didn’t witness the alleged assault. You will enter a plea of not guilty, Nick.”
“But a guilty plea would make everything go away, and it’s likely I wouldn’t receive the full—”
“Not guilty, Nick. Do you hear me?”
“But—”
“I understand that you’re looking out for Beth, but it’s my job to look out for you. You plead guilty and you can kiss your degree goodbye because university policy dictates that you will be expelled upon a guilty verdict or plea. They don’t fool around with charges of physical harm to other students.” Hal cleared his throat. “Dean Harris told me about your disciplinary probation. I hope you understand that he’s gone to bat for you. Please don’t throw that away because there’s a chance—a good one—that you won’t be convicted. In that case, your record will be expunged, and you will be free to finish your degree. Then it all goes away. So, tell me. What will you plead tomorrow?”
“Not guilty.”
“Good boy. Now, after the plea, the judge will set a time for a pre-trial hearing and a trial date. Got all that?”
Nick nodded. Someone tapped on the door window, and he looked up to see an officer peering inside. When their gaze’s met, the cop lifted his arm and gestured to his watch.
“Time’s up,” Hal remarked. “I’m heading out to Northstar now to talk to your parents. Is there anything you’d like me to say to them for you?”
“Yes. Tell them I love them, and I’m sorry, but this is the right thing to do.”
“I hope you’re right.” Hal scribbled a few notes on his tiny spiral-bound notebook, then tucked it and his pen back in his breast pocket and stood.
“Thank you, Hal.”
His lawyer gave him a hug and whispered, “Stay strong, Nick. I promise we’ll win this.”
When he was back in his cell after Hal left, Nick stretched out on the thin, narrow mattress of the single bunk. At least he didn’t have to share a cell with anyone. As Hal had mentioned, the jail was full tonight, mostly with drunks. One individual, a man of indeterminate age in the cell across from him, serenaded them with a terrible, tone-deaf rendition of a country song Nick could only vaguely make out. As the hours passed, the tedium grew, and with nothing else to do but think of why he was in here listening to a drunk wail on, doubt and worry descended on him.
His primary concern was not his arraignment tomorrow or the pre-trial meeting or even the trial—if it went that far. It was Beth. He had vowed to protect her, but how could he do that when he was sitting in jail? Was Trey keeping his distance? He wouldn’t put it past Trey to take advantage of his absence to harass Beth, and Nick fervently hoped that his brothers were heeding his plea. He also hoped they wouldn’t do anything stupid to get themselves in trouble if Trey decided to bother Beth.
“Christ. What a screwed up situation,” he muttered.
“Wha’s a matter, lover boy?” the drunk across from him inquired.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Nick replied. “Go back to your terrible singing.”
“Ah, don’ be like that, ssssweet thing. You hurt me. You hurt me deep.”
“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”
As the drunk took up another song, Nick’s mind drifted back a few hours. It wrenched his heart to recall the renewed terror and guilt in Beth’s gaze when she had tried and failed to tell Dean Harris why Nick’s actions were self-defense. He wondered how she was holding up and prayed she wasn’t being too hard on herself. None
of this was her fault, and he was angry with himself for thinking, even for a moment when Officer Rogers had arrested him, that any of it was. He would never blame her for it because every tear, every doubt, and every second Nick spent in jail was entirely Trey’s doing.
He hadn’t let himself recall the rape in any detail in some time, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking of every horrible moment of it now. Beth’s screams echoed in his head as if he was hearing them again, and he clenched his fists uselessly, as unable to stop the parade of memories as he had been unable to prevent Trey from assaulting her. The image of her, naked and terrified with her hands bound behind her back by Trey’s belt, still made him shiver as a poisonous torrent of raw emotions surged through him—crippling anger and helplessness and paralyzing grief for the loss of her sweet innocence. It wasn’t the physical injuries that cut him the deepest; those were healing and would soon exist only in memory. It was the emotional damage that threatened to tear his heart out. He didn’t know if Beth would ever again be able to look at the world without seeing danger lurking in every shadow.
He pulled a knee up and covered his face with his hands as a perplexing realization settled over him.
The desire to beat Trey until he was unrecognizable was potent, and he recalled feeling that exact impulse that night… and yet, he hadn’t given in. His instinct to help and protect Beth had overridden the raging bloodlust and vengeance.
She moves, you move.
Michelle’s words echoed in his head, ringing with truth. Somehow, in the moment he’d broken into Beth’s room to answer her cries for help, she had become the center of his world. His every thought and action since that night had been focused on helping her however he could. Michelle was right that how he felt about Beth was changing. Had already changed. She was no longer simply his friend. When they had been only friends, he hadn’t felt the constant need to protect her. He’d always looked out for her just as he looked out for his brothers, but he hadn’t felt any of the possessiveness he did now. He shook his head. No, that wasn’t right because she didn’t belong to him. At once, he knew exactly the source of this overwhelming need and desire to do everything he could to make sure she was safe and happy no matter what the cost to him.
Devotion.
The word settled into place like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle, completing the picture, and he folded his hands comfortably on his chest as if that single realization had suddenly knocked everything else into place. In a way, it had. He knew why he was doing this, and he knew he wouldn’t break under the pressure because that reason was stronger than anything he’d felt in his life. He was hers in whatever way she wanted him and in whatever way she needed him.
Maybe it was seeing Beth so entirely helpless and watching her fall apart time and again and slowly begin to pull herself back together that made him feel this way, but he doubted it and doubted, too, that this feeling would fade as she healed.
It won’t ever fade because I’ve always felt this way. I just didn’t realize it, he thought. And if that’s true, why in the hell did it take her getting raped to make me see it?
Before guilt had a chance to dig in, he looked instead at why he hadn’t seen it, and the answer was surprisingly simple. There had been boundaries and a lifelong status quo that had prevented him from ever probing his relationship with Beth to see if there might be more to it, but those boundaries had all been shattered that night. Necessity had broken them into so many pieces that they were now irreparable, and in that ongoing process, new possibilities were opening up.
He thought about all the times they’d danced and how they moved so effortlessly together, completely in tune with one another. Unhindered by self-imposed restrictions, Nick allowed himself to recall the feel of her body pressed against his and how, if he had ever let himself acknowledge it, he would have been forced to admit that he enjoyed it. She was so petite and yet so resilient, both physically and emotionally. Then he recalled how tiny and fragile she’d seemed while he’d held her on the floor of the bathroom after she’d been raped, and the flare of desire chilled immediately. The fuel remained, however, waiting patiently to be reignited.
His relationship with Michelle was over. That much was certain. He couldn’t keep trying to pretend his love for her was nearly as powerful as the devotion that bound him to Beth, and it wasn’t fair to lead her on. She was an incredible woman and deserved more than what he could offer her. He didn’t know if Beth would ever be whole again or if she would want him, but he was tied to her now and probably always had been.
It was like the clouds had burst and every thing came pouring down on him. He put his hands over his face and let the tears flow silently.
Hours after her rather unproductive talk with Dean Harris, Beth was still mulling over what he’d said, and no matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew he was entirely right. There was simply no other way she could prove Nick had acted in her defense without revealing exactly why he’d had to.
A knock on her door put her useless pondering on hold. She smelled the pizza even before she opened the door for June, and her stomach rumbled.
“No Aelissm?” Beth asked.
“No, she’s over working in the metals shop on some project or other.”
“Ah. You two spend so much time together that it seems strange to see you apart.”
June laughed. “Yeah, I guess we do. Been joined at the hip since we were five. A bit like you and Nick. And speaking of Nick, how’d your talk with Dean Harris go? Were you able to figure anything out?”
“Not really,” Beth replied as she cleared off the top of her nightstand so June could set the pizza box down. “Other than the fact that I am a total coward.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Oh, I am. I know exactly what I need to do to prove it wasn’t assault, but I can’t do it.” Hugging herself tightly, she paced the length of her room, suddenly uncomfortable. “It’s my fault Nick is sitting in jail because I’m not strong enough to do what he wanted me to do in the first place.”
“It’s not your fault, Beth.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it really isn’t,” June insisted. “I don’t know what all happened that night, but I do know that if Trey hadn’t done something terrible, Nick wouldn’t have felt the need to defend you, which means he wouldn’t be in jail right now. This is Trey’s fault, not yours.” She pulled a slice of pizza out of the box, flopped it on one of the paper plates she’d brought, and handed it to Beth.
Beth took it and sat beside the younger woman on her bed, but the pizza sat ignored on her lap as she stared blindly at the wall. Logic argued that June and everyone else who’d told her the exact same thing was right, but the fact remained that she could have prevented Nick from being arrested by reporting the rape immediately. The rape had happened—there was no going back and stopping it—but she could still do something about Nick’s arrest. That put the blame on her.
“I don’t have to know exactly what happened to know this is entirely Trey’s fault,” June continued. “Because I know Nick, and even if I didn’t… I have eyes. Trey was a complete ass last week at the Club.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Beth replied. “Looking back, I can’t believe I was so stupid about him. He’s always been selfish. Nick even called him a total narcissist when he walked me home that night—the twenty-ninth.”
“He is most definitely that.”
“I just didn’t know he could be so….”
June waited almost a minute before she tried to fill in the word Beth couldn’t say. “Rude? Self-absorbed? Crass?”
“Savage,” Beth said.
Her companion regarded her with surprise, but it dissipated quickly, and Beth had the feeling that June had just realized exactly what Trey had done. She was too polite to ask, however, and Beth was grateful. It was difficult enough to talk about the rape with Nick, who had witnessed it, and it would be impossible to talk about it with someone she’d know
n barely more than a year even though she knew June would listen without judgment; the girl had a quiet way about her that invited one to open up and talk to her with the assurance of complete confidentiality.
Another knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Frowning, Beth set her untouched pizza aside to see who it was. She peered through the peephole and almost groaned when she saw Michelle standing on the other side of the door. Because she was certain Michelle had heard their voices and because she knew Nick wouldn’t appreciate her being rude to his girlfriend, Beth opened the door and greeted Michelle with a forced smile.
“Hi, Michelle.”
“Hi, Beth.” She glanced briefly to the side, then turned her attention fully on Beth. “I thought I would stop by and see if you wanted to eat dinner with me, Henry, and Aaron… and June and Aelissm, if they’re up for it.”
“Um, thanks, but June brought pizza,” Beth said, stepping aside and gesturing to her friend. “I’d invite you to join us, but she only brought enough for the two of us.”
“That’s okay,” Michelle replied. “I figured you might not be up for dinner in the cafeteria… but I wanted to stop by to make sure you’re all right. Nick would want me to check on you.”
“I’m okay. Thank you.”
“Are you sure about that?” Michelle asked, gesturing to her door.
Beth craned her neck around to look at her whiteboard. Instead of the picture she’d drawn at the very start of the semester of a horse beneath mountains, the word “slut” was scrawled across it. She immediately recognized Trey’s angular handwriting. She stared at it for a few moments, waiting for shock or shame or some other paralyzing emotion to wrap her in its grip. Nothing came. The childish insult was barely an afterthought to what Trey had already done. With her conversation with Dean Harris still in her mind, she understood that she needed to document it. How it might help her or Nick, she didn’t have a clue, but she knew she needed the evidence of his harassment. Methodically, she went back into her room to get her camera, snapped a picture, then wiped the board clean. With a calm disconnection, she wondered when he’d written it because June hadn’t mentioned it when she arrived, and Beth was certain she would have if she’d seen it.
First Instinct Page 15
