16. Sixteen

sixteen

Charlotte

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I vomited inside the toilet, coughing a few times until I was able to gulp down a few greedy breaths and rest my head against the top of the toilet lid.

Spike was Hutch.

Rhodes was Phoenix.

Spike Hutcheson. Phoenix Rhodes.

They were…

Them.

"Oh god," I groaned, dropping my head down and puking again. My stomach felt empty now, but just to be sure, I sat on the floor for another minute and did nothing but cry, silently asking how I could've possibly gotten myself into this situation.

I wasn't sure how long I'd sat there, but there was a familiar buzzing against my thigh that had me reaching inside my slacks pocket for my phone. I read the text twice, and then restlessly sighed, resisting the urge to puke again.

With the exception of prepping for trial and being present for suspect interrogations, shadowing a crime scene wasn't exactly part of the job description and well, after that huge fucking bomb that just got dropped on me, I frankly didn't want to do this shit anymore. I couldn't. I literally just discovered that the two amazing cocks I'd been secretly riding for the last three months were attached to the bodies of the same detectives I was working Delilah's rape case with, and I was just what, supposed to get up off my ass and face them? Pretend like it hadn't been roughly four or five nights since I was strapped to a fucking swing with Spike pounding my aching pussy raw?

Shit.

No wonder I never heard from them since that night. Maybe Detective Hutch had a good reason for wanting to request a new CDA after all.

Tears burned my eyes at the reminder, forcing me to lean back against the stall and wipe under my lids, furious because I couldn't decide who I was more angry with—Detective Hutch, or myself. None of this would've happened if I'd never gone to the sanctum to begin with, but the only reason I did was because I was sad, lonely, and desperately needed a distraction from my hectic fucking life. I never intended to take such a liking or to grow the slightest thread of attachment toward Spike and Phoenix, but they were charming, mysterious—even more so then thanks to their masks—and after finally breaking down and letting my freak flag fly for the first time in over ten years, I let them have their way with me. I had no idea why it made me feel so satisfyingly sick to admit it, but ever since then, there wasn't a set of lips, cocks, or hands I wanted ravaging any part of my body unless it was theirs.

Still though, this was never supposed to happen. That part of my life was never supposed to clash in the real world—at least not like this, it wasn't. I wanted to meet them, yes, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been silently moping over why I hadn't heard from either of them since I gave Spike my number. I guess I understood it much better now, but still, what in the actual fuck?

What were the fucking odds?

And why attack my career?

I mean, for fucks sake, all he had to do was just talk to me!

I wanted some damn answers. Hutch knew the truth about me for days now, and had Phoenix not come inside the interrogation room right when I was about to rip Spike's head off his sexy as fuck shoulders, I could've gotten them. I get that I may not have been completely honest about my knowledge and personal involvement with The Flirty Sanctum, but that did not give him grounds to fuck with my job because of it. Regardless of Spike's intentions, this felt personal, and since Harley had my back and opted not to honor his request for a new CDA, I still had to work with them on these cases.

Which was fine. I could totally do that. Keeping my personal shit emotionally and separately contained from the job was never an issue I had before, and I refused to allow a Mr. Man Cop with an eight-inch pierced cock—no matter how awfully beautiful it is—to question my capabilities or dare tarnish a single cell of my confidence like that and get away with it.

Two can play that game, so I got up off the floor, flushed the toilet, and walked out the stall with my head raised high.

It'd taken me a minute to fully rid the mascara smudges from under and around my eyelids. When I was calm and the redness on my cheeks had dampened enough to look more like a natural blush touch-up, I got out of my car and made the long trek across the hospital parking lot. I entered the building and then ambled across the lobby, smiling at the nurse sitting behind the front desk.

"Hi there," I greeted her, taking a minute to reach inside my bag and flash her my DA badge. "I'm Charlotte Greene. I was told Amber Strickland was brought in not too long ago by EMTs."

"You're the attorney working with Hutch and Rhodes, right?"

"I am. They're at the crime scene, so I thought I'd help out by coming here and interviewing Amber. Is her doctor around?"

"Of course, Ms. Greene." She stood tall and moved quickly, opening the doors for me. "I think he's with her now, so you may have to wait outside the room for a moment."

She walked for a bit and when we made it to the correct room, I sat down on the bench just outside the door while the nurse entered to let the doctor know I was there. It was no less than five minutes later when the doctor stepped out and offered me a bright smile.

"Charlotte," he said, reaching out to hug me as I rose to my feet, ogling wide-eyed at him with my lips parted. "It's good to see you again."

"Dr. Giles," I stammered, my hands shaking as my arms lifted in an attempt to return the hug he'd given me. "Yes, it's good to see you."

I swallowed when I pulled away from him, feeling a little uneasy. Dr. Giles was the man who'd taken care of Karl when he wrecked his car.

"You're here for Amber?" he asked.

"I'm working her case with Rhodes and Hutch. Chief seems to think Amber's case is connected to our other one. Is she alert?"

"She is for now, but I have to warn you she's in a lot of pain. I just gave her a mild sedative, so I'm not sure how much you'll get out of her right now. It's likely she'll fall asleep at any moment."

I sighed, but nodded because I understood. I was still going to try though.

"What do her injuries look like?" I looked around, then lowered my voice as I ducked my head closer to his. "Was she raped?"

Sadly, Dr. Giles nodded. "Violently. She has several severe tears inside her vagina and bruising that'll take a solid two months to heal."

"DNA?" I wondered.

"Rape kit should be on its way to the lab now."

"What about her injuries?"

"Fortunately, there are no broken bones, but there isn't an area of her body this guy didn't assure to leave uninjured by the time he was done with her."

Chills shot down my spine at his words.

"She'd been drinking too. I ran a tox screen on her, but it's going to be a little while before the results are back. I won't know for sure until then, but given how strongly she stinks of alcohol, I'd say there's a substantial possibility she may have no memory of her attack. If she does, then I doubt it'll be more than snippets."

Damnit.

That was not what I'd hoped to hear.

"Alright, Doc. Do you still have my info?"

"I should, but it wouldn't hurt to get another card from you just in case."

I reached inside my bag and handed one over to him. "Do me a favor and fax the DNA and toxicology results to my office as soon as you get them. Do you mind if I step inside and maybe see what I can get out of Amber?"

Dr. Giles stepped to the side and waved me along. "No, not at all. Go ahead and do what you need to do. I'm sorry to ask you to please not wake her if she's asleep, but if she is, then I'm afraid you'll have to come back later. I'm sure you can understand."

"Yes, Dr. Giles, of course."

I thanked him and then knocked twice on the door, stepping inside the cold room just to sigh my disappointment when I found Amber Strickland lying down in bed with her battered eyes closed and her split mouth open wide, sound asleep like Dr. Giles had predicted.

There was nothing more I could do now, so I fetched another card from my purse and placed it on the little table beside the hospital bed, scowling as I spun on my heel because I knew I had no other choice but to report Amber's condition back to the detectives.