by Laura Lee
"Your wrist suffered a distal radius fracture, which is why your arm is currently encased in a splint. I have no plans to switch that to a hard cast but won't know for sure until the swelling goes down a bit. Additionally, you have a mild concussion, which may cause temporary confusion, memory loss, or sensitivity to light or sound. We'll need to keep you under observation for about a week, considering your body is healing from several injuries at once. If all goes well, you should feel remarkably better in two to three weeks and fully recuperated in six to eight weeks.”
I blow out a breath. “That’s a lot to take in at once.”
“It is, although I’d say you’re a lucky young woman. The outcome could’ve been much worse if any major organs were perforated.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you have any questions?”
I’m questioning everything right now, but I can’t focus long enough on any one thing. “I’m tired.”
"Understandable." Dr. Yates nods. "I'll let you get some rest. Just let the nurses know if you think of any questions, and they can page me."
My lids start to flutter as he leaves the room. “Kristi?”
My nurse comes back into view. “Yes, hun?”
“Can you please make sure no visitors come into my room? I don’t want anyone in here while I sleep—especially the guy who was here before.”
She lifts her eyebrows. "Is that boy hurting you, honey? Did he do this to you?"
“No,” I mumble. “He definitely wasn’t one of them. I just...I need to know no one will come in here while I’m asleep.”
Kristi pats my arm. “Of course. I’ll make sure the other nurses know as well.”
I fully close my eyes, comforted by her assurance. Just because Kingston didn’t physically assault me, doesn’t mean he wasn’t behind it. Maybe I’ll feel differently once I’m clearheaded, but right now, every person I’ve met since my mom died is a suspect.
CHAPTER TWO
KINGSTON
I’m livid as I make my way to the waiting room. Bentley, Reed, and my sister are all sitting in chairs, waiting for an update, but I have other matters to address first. Bentley stands when he sees me approach and braces himself, likely from my obvious rage.
I grab a fistful of his shirt and slam him back into the wall. “Why the fuck did you leave her? This would’ve never happened if you did what I told you to do!”
His nostrils flare. “Fuck you, man. This shit isn’t my fault.”
“The hell it’s not!”
Reed pulls me off Bent. “Calm the hell down before you get us all kicked out of here.”
I start pacing the small room, trying to murder Bentley with my eyes.
My sister tugs on my arm. “Kingston, sit down and tell us what happened. Is she awake yet?”
I take the farthest seat away from the target of my ire. “Yes, she’s awake. And she kicked me out of her room.”
Ainsley’s eyebrows draw together. “Why would she do that?”
“Because she thinks I had something to do with her assault. Can you believe that shit? What in the actual fuck? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s that asshole’s. He’s the one who left her vulnerable to whoever attacked her.” I fling my arm in Bentley’s direction.
He flips me off. “Fuck you. You told me you were right behind me. How was I supposed to know you got delayed when you didn’t share that information with me?”
“I told you to stay with her until I got there! You didn’t think it was odd that you didn’t run into me until you were almost back to the house? It was a twenty-minute walk, you ass.”
He grits his teeth. “I thought maybe you took the other path. And again, if you would’ve told me you were held up, I wouldn’t have left.”
“I shouldn’t have had to. You should’ve never left her side.”
Bentley jumps out of his chair. "Well, excuse-fucking-me for not wanting to stick around and see the hearts in her eyes when you showed up!"
Reed gets out of his chair at the same time I do and holds his arms out to both sides. “Seriously, guys, you’re drawing attention. Sit the fuck down.”
I'm too wired to sit, so I resume my pacing. "So, you left her alone in the woods in the middle of the night because you can't handle being second best? Are you seriously telling me your ego is the reason this happened?"
“You’re the idiot who thought it’d be a good idea to drag her out there in the first place!” he counters.
“That’s where the boat was docked!”
He rolls his eyes. “I still don’t understand why you wanted to take it out in the middle of the night.”
“I’ve already explained this. I wanted privacy.”
“Yeah, well, you succeeded,” Bentley scoffs. “My question is, why the fuck couldn’t you just do the whole cake and champagne thing inside the big empty cabin?”
I slam my fist into the wall, hissing from the pain. Like I haven’t asked myself that question a thousand times over the last few hours.
“Kingston, stop it!” Ainsley grabs my clenched fist, examining it.
I drop back into a chair, clutching my hand. Reed sits right next to me, likely to restrain me if I try beating Bentley’s face in.
“I’ll go find some ice,” Ainsley offers.
I take a few moments to breathe, willing the images out of my head. I don’t scare easily, but finding Jazz like that...so bloody and beaten, was terrifying. I thought she was dead. I had a brief moment of relief when I felt her shallow breaths, but when I really took in her appearance, realizing she may have been raped on top of everything else, I damn near lost my shit. If I wasn’t so busy trying to stop her from bleeding out, I would’ve raised hell.
When we first arrived at the hospital, a nurse informed me they wouldn't perform a sexual assault exam without the patient's consent because it's a fairly invasive process. So, we've been waiting until Jazz was coherent enough to tell us what happened. Not knowing what went down...whether or not someone violated her like that...it's killing me.
I hang my head, feeling dejected. “You didn’t see her, man. She’s black and blue with little scratches all over her body. Her arm is in a splint, her eye is half swollen shut. Even worse...when I found her...whatever sick fuck did that to her may have done even more damage that I couldn’t see.”
“What do you mean?” Reed asks.
I look Bentley right in the eye, knowing he'll understand how I'm feeling more than anyone. "She was practically naked when I found her. Her dress was cut up, and her underwear was missing."
Bentley blanches before falling into a chair. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
His eyes lift to mine. “Was she...”
I shake my head. "I don't know. She's only been awake a couple of times, and she was pretty out of it from the drugs they're giving her. The police are still waiting to interview her."
How did I go from having one of the best nights of my life to this? I planned on spending the evening christening my new boat, worshipping Jazz’s tight little body, but instead, I’m sitting in a goddamn hospital, waiting for the chance to see her again.
Ainsley returns with a cold pack. “I got this from the nurses’ station.”
I place the compress on my knuckles. “Thanks.”
The four of us sit silently, stewing on everything that's happened, until a throat clears, causing me to look up. Charles Callahan is standing in the doorway, taking in the scene. I'm sure we're quite the sight. We've been here for six hours now, and none of us have slept in over twenty-four hours. All of our clothes are rumpled—my jeans are muddy and stained with Jazz’s blood.
"Peyton called," he explains. "Said Jasmine was taken by ambulance to a hospital. This one was the closest to the lake house, so I took an educated guess." He frowns. "They said she's not accepting visitors. They won't tell me anything about her condition since she's legally an adult now. Have any of you seen her?"
Fuck. I am not in the mood to deal with this man. I don’t know if I can conc
eal my hatred for him right now. I sure as shit don’t trust him, especially with Jazz’s life. For all I know, he was responsible, and he's here, pretending to be a concerned father, simply to cover his ass.
“How did Peyton know?” I ask.
Charles lifts a shoulder. “You’d have to ask her.”
“I was still with her when you called from the ambulance,” Reed offers. “I called Bent as soon as I hung up. Peyton could’ve easily overheard our conversation.”
Callahan nods to Reed before turning back to me. “Well, there you go. Have you seen Jasmine yet? Do you know what happened?”
I stare the prick down, not willing to give him anything. I'm sure my protectiveness over his daughter will get back to my dad, but I don't really give a shit.
Ainsley, always trying to be the peacekeeper, speaks up. “Kingston’s been with her the whole time. He just came out here because she’s...resting.”
Charles raises an eyebrow, staring at me expectantly. “And her condition?”
Jesus. I suppose I can feed him enough information so he’ll get off my back.
I clear my throat. "Jazz was beaten and stabbed, but she's stable now. They did some emergency surgical procedure and found her injuries weren't as severe as they initially thought. The doctor told me earlier she should be ready for release in a week or so. She'll be sore for a while, but she should be okay."
"That's good to hear. When you see her next, please let her know I stopped by. When she's ready to come home, just have her contact Frank, and he'll pick her up."
His tone is utterly devoid of emotion like he's not the least bit affected his daughter could've died tonight. And it doesn't go unnoticed that he has zero questions about who beat the shit out of her. The worst part is that I'm not remotely surprised by his lack of concern.
I have to forcibly unclench my jaw. “You’re not staying?”
“I can’t. I have to catch a flight in a few hours.”
My lips thin. “Wait...weren’t you just on a trip?”
Charles’ jaw tics. “Not that I need to explain myself to you, but that was a quick overnight trip to meet with a client in San Diego. Madeline and I are now heading to Cabo for some R&R. Let Jasmine know we’ll be gone for a few weeks. If she needs any sort of medical care when she gets back to the house, Ms. Williams can make the necessary arrangements.”
Fuck bringing her back to that place. I’ve already decided she’ll be staying with me in the pool house. At least there, I have a full security system independent from the main house. Nobody gets in or out without my knowledge.
“I’ll let her know. Have a nice vacation while your daughter is stuck in a hospital.”
Charles’ arctic eyes flash with rage before he schools his expression. Without another word, he turns on his heels and walks away.
“Damn, and I thought Dad was cold,” Ainsley mutters. “I’m pretty sure he’d at least pretend to care if one of us got hurt.”
I scoff. "No, kidding. Those two can give each other a run for their money on shittiest father of the decade."
Bentley blows out a breath. “What are you going to do if she was...if someone did attack her in that way?”
Two years later, and he can’t even say the word. I’m sure this whole thing is dredging up some painful shit.
“I don’t know.” Well, besides hunting that motherfucker down and feeding him his dick. It’s probably not wise to mention that in public, so I keep that thought to myself.
Ainsley grabs my non-swollen hand. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
I resist the urge to laugh. I can’t remember the last time I ever felt hopeful about something, but I don’t want to take a dump on my sister’s sentiment.
“Yeah, let’s hope.”
CHAPTER THREE
JAZZ
"Jasmine, an officer is waiting to ask you some questions. Is it okay if I let her in?"
“Um...yeah.”
Marika, my assigned nurse for the day, sticks her head out the door and comes back with a brunette woman wearing a dark blue uniform.
The officer takes the seat next to my bed. “Hi, Jasmine. My name’s Isa Dominguez. Is it okay if I ask you some questions?”
“Sure.”
She gestures to Marika. “Would you like privacy during the interview? Or someone else to be present?”
“She can stay. No one else.”
Officer Dominguez nods. “Your injuries indicate you may have been the victim of an attack. Is that accurate?”
“Yeah.”
She smiles softly. “Do you remember any details?”
“It comes in flashes. There were two men. They were wearing masks—I don’t know who they were.”
Now that my head is clearer, I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. I can’t stop replaying the incident over and over, trying to identify something I may have missed. I didn't recognize their voices, but something seemed familiar about the men who assaulted me, especially the main guy. I keep having these phantom pains of what it felt like when he was crushing me with his weight, pawing at me, beating me. I can still smell the alcohol on his breath as he leered down at my naked body. Feel his erection pressing against my thigh, growing bigger and bigger the more I screamed.
The officer writes notes on the pad she’s carrying. “Take as much time as you need.”
“Um...they came out of nowhere and started chasing me. When one of them caught up with me, he threatened me with a knife, told me he wouldn’t hurt me if I’d just cooperate.”
"Now listen up, you cunt. This is how it's gonna go. You're going to stop trying to maim us, and you're going to open those pretty legs of yours. If you try screaming for help again, I'll slit your fucking throat. If you take it like a good girl until we're done with you, you get to live. Understand?"
"Cooperate, how?"
I swallow the lump in my throat. “He told me to open my legs and take it like a good girl.”
Officer Dominguez takes a deep breath. “And then what?”
“At one point, I got ahold of the knife, but he tried getting it back.” I hold up my left arm. “That’s when this got broken, I guess. Then he stabbed me during the struggle. Things get a little fuzzy after that.”
More note-taking. "Can you remember any details about their physical appearance? Hair color, build, things like that?"
I think about it for a moment. "They were both tall...one guy had a thinner build, like a runner, and the one who stabbed me was pretty muscular. He was really heavy but solid. Their masks covered their whole head, so I don't know about hair color or anything."
She looks me directly in the eye. “I know this next question will be difficult, but I need to ask based on the condition you were in when you arrived. Were you sexually assaulted?”
I clear my throat, cursing the dryness. My nurse must be reading my mind because she turns on the faucet in the little sink and hands me a paper cup filled with water.
“Thank you.” I take a few swallows before continuing. “Yes, but not...fully. He didn’t put anything inside of me. Not for lack of trying, but when he stabbed me, they got freaked out and ran off. I think the knife was just meant to scare me.”
Answering that question was hard enough when one of my nurses first asked, but I understand the officer needs to be thorough.
“Oh, shit, man! You stabbed her! You fucking stabbed her! We need to get the hell out of here!”
"Look what you did, you dumb bitch. You could've just spread your legs, and this would've never happened."
“Did either of them say anything that stands out, or do you know anyone who’d want to potentially harm you?”
“Do you see this gorgeous little pussy? She’s freshly waxed and everything. It’s like she was waiting for us. Our employer will understand.”
“Um...I don’t think so.” I don’t know why I omit those facts, but my gut instinct is telling me to keep it to myself
.
"Can you think of anything e
lse that may help locate your attackers?"
I shake my head. “Not that I can think of.”
"Okay. I think I have enough for now." Officer Dominguez asks for my phone number, then removes a card from her shirt pocket and places it on the bedside table. "Here's my contact info if you remember anything else. Anything at all. Please don’t hesitate to reach out. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be in touch as soon as I have more information from the crime scene.”
“Thank you.”
I release a heavy sigh as she leaves the room.
"Can I get you anything?" Nurse Marika asks. "They'll be serving lunch in about an hour, but I can grab you a snack if you'd like."
I totally forgot she was here, so I jump a little when she speaks. “Uh...no, I’m okay. Thank you. I think I’d just like to nap.”
I notice the surfboard print on her scrubs when she pauses in the doorway. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping, but the gentleman that was here yesterday hasn’t left the hospital once. His friends have been in and out, but he’s been here the whole time. He seems really worried about you—he’s constantly asking if you’re allowing visitors yet.”
"Thanks for letting me know." I sigh. "I still don't want any visitors, though."
Marika nods. “Of course.”
I stare at the ceiling as she leaves the room. Why in the hell do I feel guilty right now? So what if Kingston has been here for over forty-eight hours? I can barely walk to the bathroom that’s five feet away. Under the circumstances, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to not want anyone around me while I’m so defenseless. Kingston can hang around the hospital all he wants, but I’m not letting him back in my room.
“A YOUNG LADY NAMED Ainsley brought this by while you were napping.” My nurse sets my cell phone on the bedside table and my overnight bag on the built-in bench. “She thought you might need them.”
