Dustin (Shifter Football League Book 3)

by Becca Fanning

  Hayden shifted back to human form. He was naked now, too. His clothes must be in piles beside hers somewhere. He climbed into place over the top of her. She went still except for a few sobs that escaped from her throat.

  To her horror, a third bear appeared. How many of them would come and join in? How much would she have to endure before it was over?

  She waited for the worst, but there was a loud growl then a whimper. She cracked her eyes open and saw the new bear biting Hayden. Alex, still a bear, was joining in, trying to protect Hayden.

  She watched for a few seconds until the shock took over and her vision went black.

  Chapter 29

  Dustin stood back and looked at all three bodies. He was panting heavily, sweat and blood smeared across his body. He shifted back to human form and looked around. None of his clothes had survived intact enough for him to redress. The clothing in his car would have to do—as soon as he could get to it.

  Alex and Hayden weren’t dead, and they would only stay down for a short time. Hayden had passed out, but Alex was still groggy, moving around on the ground trying to get back up. Brooklyn was out cold. He tried not to look at her naked form as he scooped her into his arms.

  He hurried back to his car as quickly as he could carrying her weight. It could be tricky getting to his car. He stood at the edge of the woods—his last bit of cover—to see who was around. A couple was walking toward a car, and a man at the door stood smoking and watching. Well, one guy shouldn’t cause much trouble.

  Dustin carefully set her down then picked up his keys from the spot he’d dropped them before shifting and running into the woods. He unlocked his car and popped the trunk to get out the extra clothes he kept in there. He tugged on a shirt and shorts, glancing over at the man smoking to see if he was looking. He raised an eyebrow and turned away.

  Anything in his car would be far too big for Brooklyn, but ill-fitting clothing was far better than nothing at all. Carrying a naked woman, unconscious, from the woods and loading her into his car might cause someone to make a call. He didn’t need that sort of hassle right now.

  He sat her up to yank a shirt over her head then lifted a leg at a time to pull on shorts. He carried her to the car and loaded her in the passenger seat. Hopefully this would seem like nothing more than a friend taking home a drunk friend. It was close enough to the truth.

  He didn’t know where she lived, and he hadn’t found her purse. His only option was to take her to his place and wait for her to wake up. Then, who knew what would happen. She’d remember enough to thank him, or she wouldn’t remember anything and flip out.

  Inside his house, he laid her down on the couch and covered her with a blanket. Now what? He paced for a few minutes. Maybe this was a mistake. Should he take her to the hospital? She did have significant cuts. Call an ambulance or the police? Probably he should have done something besides just lay her there, but his head was still spinning, and he’d drunk more than he should have and been driving. If the police came around, it might mean trouble for him.

  He decided to get a damp wash cloth and wipe the blood and dirt from her face. As he wiped her cheek, her eyes twitched. He moved back to give her room. Her eyelids fluttered, she moaned, then she blinked. She stared at him, a confused look on her face.

  “Dustin?”

  He nodded. “What do you remember?”

  “I…” She scrunched her face, then her gaze darted down to her clothing. Her face changed to horrified rage. “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  “I remember Hayden and Alex taking me into the woods.”

  “Then?” He needed to make sure she knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “They… umm… shifted, and… They ripped my clothes. Hayden was—” Her words broke off in a sob. “But then someone else showed up. And I don’t know what happened after that.”

  “I was the someone else.”

  “You were?”

  “How do you think you got here? I knocked them out then I brought you here. I can take you to the hospital or call the police. I didn’t know what you’d want to do. I know it’s not an easy situation.”

  She was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t go to the police.”

  “Why is that?”

  “They’d want to talk to you.”

  “And?”

  “And you’ll never turn in your teammates. You’ll make me seem like a liar, and it’ll be horrible trying to prove anything.”

  He shook his head. “I fought them both, didn’t I? I’ll tell the police the truth, even if it means getting them in trouble. I don’t want to see something bad happen to them, but what they did was…” He swallowed hard. “I never imagined a stupid contest could lead to something so horrible. It was meant to be fun.”

  “I’m not surprised at all. This is what happens.”

  “I guess you would know. I can’t imagine the world you live in and what you’ve dealt with. I get it now. I really do.”

  She coughed out a laugh. “No, you don’t. Someone like you never gets it. They just keep going on thinking they know something and treating people badly.”

  “Well, I’m trying my best not to do that. Just tell me what you want me to do to help you, and I’ll do it.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him for a second. “You’re serious?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’d take me to the police if I asked you to and tell them the truth? Tell them what Hayden and Alex did, and that it was your fault?”

  “I’ll tell them the truth. I’ll tell them what I saw and what I did. It’s not up to me to determine who’s at fault. I didn’t make them do this. They acted on their own. If you want to blame me, fine, but I’m not taking responsibility for what they did. Or tried to do.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and dialed 911.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling the police.”

  She needed to talk to them and get the whole thing out now, while it was still fresh, and before any evidence was compromised. Hayden and Alex were likely long gone, but they surely left some piece of clothing or some hairs behind.

  She watched him with her mouth open in surprise. After he’d explained what had happened and given them his address, he was told an officer would be over soon to take statements.

  “I really thought you’d try to get out of it somehow,” she said.

  “Apparently, there are a lot of things you think about me that are wrong. Maybe I’m not the only one who thinks they know more than they do. People do change. Things happen and it changes people.”

  His words seem to hit her hard. She drew back and looked perplexed.

  “What?” he asked after a minute. The expression on her face made no sense to him, and he wasn’t about to start making guesses about her thoughts.

  “You’re right,” she said softly. “Things happen and it changes people. Things happened that have changed me. And I guess something happened to you to change you.”

  “You mean you did something to me to change me.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. How in the world was it okay for her to act like she’d done nothing wrong? He was so sick of the double standards.

  “Right,” she said. “I guess I didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal to you.”

  “Kind of like I didn’t think having a contest to sleep with the most cheerleaders would be a big deal.”

  “What exactly was the second contest? To see who could sleep with me first?”

  “Basically.” No point in hiding anything from her now. “We knew it would be difficult. I think what was said was ‘whoever breaks Brooklyn first’ or something to that effect.”

  “Nice.”

  “So was what you did to me. As if drugging me and violating me wasn’t bad enough, why did you have to take photos and post them everywhere?” His voice was on the verge of wavering, but there was no way he would break down in front of her. He was so sick of her. The sooner the cops cam
e, the sooner she would be out of there and out of his life forever. He needed to focus on football anyway. Coach said he could get back in the game on Monday, and he wasn’t going to blow this second—third, maybe—chance. He was done with Brooklyn.

  She hung her head. “I wanted you to pay.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Lucky I didn’t make you pay for what you did.”

  “I know. We’ve been through this already,” she snapped.

  “Oh, but if something like that had happened to you, we’d never be done talking about it. You and the double standards. It’s ridiculous.”

  She glared and shook her head.

  “Oh what, you don’t think it’s a double standard?” he demanded.

  “Not really. Women are treated badly all the time. If we were treated equally, it would be.”

  “Right. Whatever. You know what? I’m done arguing with you. There’s no point. You’re always right.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the doorbell rang.

  “Must be the cops,” he said and walked to the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Chapter 30

  Brooklyn had been so focused on talking to the police to make sure Hayden and Alex paid for what they’d done that she hadn’t thought through what it would be like to talk to them, to have to relive the whole thing. When the officers came into Dustin’s house, it was question after question.

  The basics first. Name, address, birthdate, blah, blah, blah.

  But then the questions got more difficult. What was she doing there? Was she drinking? What was she wearing? She tried not to get snippy with the officers, but it was hard to hold back. She was so angry at their accusations, she wanted to curse them out. Instead, she gave answers that redirected the blame back where it belonged.

  What was she doing there? Having dinner and a few drinks with friends. Just like Hayden and Alex were doing. She went on to explain how the football players had come in and separated the ladies and kept them apart, talking with them and hitting on them.

  Was she drinking? Not enough to be incapacitated—nowhere near as much as Hayden and Alex. Not enough to pass out or be unaware of what was happening.

  What was she wearing? This was the hardest question to answer. Instead of giving an honest answer about the now-shredded clothing, she decided to make a point. She asked them a question instead.

  “Is this a routine question for victims? When someone is robbed, do you ask what they were wearing to imply that they dressed in a way that told their muggers to ‘come and get it’?” She glared and waited for the officer with the notepad to respond.

  He glanced down at his notes and set his jaw. “You told us that your clothing was torn from your body. We’ll need to collect that for evidence. In order to do that, we’ll need to know what clothing you were wearing. Presumably, the same clothing that will become evidence.”

  Brooklyn’s face went hot, but she ground her teeth as she described her outfit.

  “Thank you,” the officer said. “I realize asking that question has been used in a negative context in the past, but there is a valid reason we’re asking. Just like now I’m going to ask you what they were wearing. It’s for identification purposes if we should uncover any photos or videos from that night, or like I said, to collect evidence.”

  She tried to trust the officers after that and believe what they told her. The part about needing the info to collect evidence did make sense, after all. She wanted to keep an open mind, to not assume the worst and they were going to build a case to make her look like she was asking for it. But the hardest part was still coming.

  It was the next statement that gave her pause and choked her up.

  “I need you to describe in as much detail as possible, what happened after they dragged you into the woods,” the officer said. He tone was tender and his expression held sympathy. “We need to understand so that we can try to find witness, search for appropriate evidence, and charge them with the correct charges. We want to see criminals face justice just as much as you do.”

  She took in a shaky breath and looked over at Dustin. She wished he would come and sit beside her, hold her hand while she recounted the awful night. He didn’t sit beside her, but he did hand her a box of tissues and offer a compassionate expression. Better than nothing.

  Brooklyn gripped the tissue in one hand and one of the couch’s pillows in the other. She almost asked Dustin to sit beside her at one point but couldn’t bring herself to do it. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms at the moment, even if he had put himself in harm’s way to rescue her.

  As she described everything in detail as much as she could remember before she blacked out, she was sure to paint Dustin in a positive light, how he’d dressed her and cared for her and brought her home to clean her up, and that he did all that after attacking his own teammates and endangering himself to save her. He’d called the cops and offered to help her in any way. As she talked, he leaned against the wall, listening, looking at the carpet. Did he feel embarrassed over what she was saying? Had she said too much? And then she thought, maybe he would try to deny some of it somehow. Make it look like she had brought it on herself.

  By the end of her explanation, she found herself feeling more defensive than anything. They needed to understand the crimes that took place and that she had done nothing to cause it. And she needed Dustin to understand that, too.

  When they had asked a few more questions for clarification, they went on their way. There’d be many more interviews, more talking, more explaining, more reliving, before this was all over. They had explained to her all that would happen with lawyers and the court system and had advised that she find a lawyer specifically experienced in representing victims in these cases. They knew she was in for a battle and wanted her to be prepared for it.

  Dustin closed the door after seeing the officers out and again stood leaning against the wall. She didn’t know what to say or do. She felt cold in a way that went to her core. It wasn’t the type of cold that had anything to do with the temperature in the room but rather the despair in her soul.

  After a long silence, Dustin asked quietly, “Do you want me to get you anything before I drive you home? Coffee or something to eat?”

  “Umm…” was all she could manage.

  “How about some hot tea?”

  “Okay.”

  She waited while he banged around in the kitchen then came back several minutes later with a steaming mug. It wasn’t the best tasting tea, but in that moment, it was the greatest thing in the world. It made her chest warmer, and she drank it down too fast.

  “Want more?” he asked.

  She shook her head and set the mug down.

  “I guess I’ll drive you home then.”

  She thought about home. Her dark apartment. Her empty apartment. It seemed very cold in her mind. She didn’t want to be there by herself.

  “Actually…” she looked at him with a pleading expression. “Would you mind if I stayed here tonight? I just—” Her voice cracked and the tears started again. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  Chapter 31

  He stared at her for a long while and finally came to sit beside her on the couch. She wanted to curl up next to him and have him hold her, but that was out of the question. Their relationship wasn’t like that, and it would be crossing the line. It was nice to have him closer, though.

  “That’s fine,” he said. “Are you… hungry or anything? I don’t know what would help you? A hot shower?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks. Maybe like… do you have any soup? I’m so cold.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I get that. I remember that feeling when I woke up the night after…” he seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. “It’s a horrible feeling. The hottest shower in the world wouldn’t wash away that shame and dirty feeling, and it didn’t warm me much.” He stood and paused, then picked up a blanket from the armchair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Won’t take l
ong.”

  He left the room, and she stared at a spot on the wall. She didn’t know if it was some sort of smudge of dirt or what, but she didn’t take her gaze off it. As she stared, she recalled that night. How she had agreed to meet him for coffee to make a point. How she’d come back to his place to put her plan into action once she was sure he was the type of guy she thought he was—the arrogant, sexist type that would never change.

  She’d tricked him into leaving the room after he poured them drinks, and she’d grinned as she dumped the powder into his drink. She stirred it with her finger then sat back down, trying hard to suppress her smile.

  As he drank, she wanted to laugh, and when he’d gone down in his kitchen, she felt more triumphant than she ever had in her life, even more so than when her squad had won the cheer championship in college. She’d stripped him naked and drawn on him, taking his photo, and carrying out her plans in pure glee.

  But now she saw the whole thing differently. She imagined Dustin trying to talk to her, trying to convince her he wasn’t a bad guy—trying to smooth things over. Maybe he had thought they’d sleep together when she came back to his place. Maybe not. But he hadn’t made a move or tried to hit on her. He hadn’t even wanted to give her alcohol.

  She wondered what he thought when he started to feel the effects of the drugs. Did he have any idea what was going on? Was he afraid? Was he mad? And then to wake up disoriented, probably hurting from the drugs, and to see what she’d done.

  When he talked about how he’d felt the next day, it felt too real. It was everything she was experiencing—the coldness, the shame, the listlessness. Then she’d made it worse by making it public. She thought about how she’d feel if Dustin posted photos of her half naked passed on the ground or of Alex and Hayden dragging her away. She couldn’t even imagine the shame of it. Just trying, she burst into tears.

  By the time Dustin came back into the room, she was sobbing into her hands.