Chapter 16

Mia

Her integrity…

IHEAR A FAINT BEEPING noise, and it's annoying the shit out of me. All I want to do is sleep. My head is pounding, my throat is as dry as sawdust, and my body feels like it's made of bricks. I try to open my eyes to see what the exasperating sound is so I can throw something at it, but they are too heavy and they feel like they're filled with sand.

All of a sudden, I feel a presence at my side and hear murmurs. The voices sound familiar, but I can't quite place them. I strain my ears to try to make out what they are saying. For some reason, my hearing seems to be off. The voices seem like they are being spoken through a tunnel. I try to adjust my body so I can get closer, but it won't move.

What the hell?

I lie there wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. After a few minutes, the murmurs become clearer.

"Did you get anything out of him?" I'd know that voice from anywhere. What is he doing here?

"Damn straight I did. He says someone paid him to slip it to her and take her to the back."

That's Jaxon. What the fuck is going on? Why are they both in my room?

"Did he tell you who paid him?" Mac again.

"He didn't know the guy. Never met him before. All he had was a description. Tall guy with brown hair. Said he was built." Jaxon.

"Do you believe that was all he knew?"

"Yes. After the shit Andrew and you did to him, and my threats, he was pissing himself. He didn't know anything else."

"This just doesn't make any sense. Who in the fuck would want to hurt her?"

I can hear the worry in Mac's voice, and I don't like it. What are he and Jaxon talking about? Who is trying to hurt whom? And what did Andrew and Mac do to cause a guy to piss himself?

I try to shake my head to clear it, but it causes a sharp pain to rush through my head. I moan lightly. Mac and Jaxon stop talking, and I feel a warm, strong hand grab mine.

"Pix, are you okay? Can you open your eyes for me?" Mac asks.

I force myself to crack my eyes open and immediately close them again at the bright lights.

"Lights," I hear myself moan.

"Hit the lights, Jaxon." A couple seconds later, Mac says, "They're off, Mia. Let me see your eyes, baby."

I slit my eyes open a little and when the searing pain doesn't come back, I open them more. My head still hurts, but not as badly with the lights dimmed.

"There's my pretty girl." I see Mac standing directly over me, gazing into my eyes. The concern I see in his eyes confuses me. What is he worried about? And why is my mind so hazy? The last thing I remember is going out with the girls and Andrew.

Wait! Where am I?

I look around and don't recognize anything, but the room is white and sterile. It looks and smells like a hospital.

"Where…" I speak, but my mouth is too dry and it comes out scratchy.

Mac reaches over and grabs a plastic cup with a straw. He bends the straw down and slightly lifts my head so I can take a sip. I almost moan at the coolness rushing down my throat. Never has water tasted so good. After a couple more sips, I lie back and clear my throat.

"Where am I?" My voice is still scratchy and weak, but not as bad.

Mac looks up and across me. I follow his line of sight and see Jaxon on the other side of my bed. His gaze is just as worried as Mac's. He takes a step closer and places his hand on my cheek, rubbing his finger across my cheek.

"What's going on guys? You're scaring me." My voice is stronger, but my throat is still dry.

"What do you remember?" Mac's question brings my gaze back to him.

I think for a minute before I reply, "Andrew, the girls, and I were at Lucki's. I decided to take a break and went to the bar."

I try to think harder for what happened next, but the pain in my head grows. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Mia," Mac calls my name, but I ignore him, trying to remember. Slowly, snippets start appearing in my head. A guy at the bar was hitting on me before I almost broke his wrist. The guy beside me warned me about people slipping something in my drink. Me realizing I drank too much. The guy leading me to the dark hallway. Me being placed on the counter and my skirt riding up. Oh God! The pain of the guy shoving his fingers in me.

"Oh my God!" My eyes shoot open and focus on Mac. I feel sick to my stomach, and my hand flies to my mouth. I see Mac grab the trash can beside the bed just in time for me to lean over and lose the contents of my stomach. When I'm done, I lean back on the bed and close my eyes. The strain of vomiting definitely didn't help my head. I feel a cool cloth being placed on my head. I open my eyes and see Mac. He helps me take another swallow of water.

"What do you remember?" Jaxon asks from the other side of the bed. I don't look at him when I answer. I keep my eyes on Mac.

"Little bits here and there, but enough to know what happened," I say quietly. The torment in Mac's eyes confirms what I already know. What I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to know, is how far it went.

"Did he…" I stop, the lump in my throat not allowing me to continue.

Luckily, Mac knows what I'm trying to ask. "We don't know yet. We're still waiting on the results. The doctor should be here any minute."

I nod and turn my gaze away from Mac, not able to look at him anymore. Not because I'm ashamed of what happened, but because of my actions toward him all these years. Yes, it was stupid on my part for not paying attention to my drink, but I know it's not my fault for what happened. What I can't get over is the pain Mac must have felt after being violated like he was. I automatically jumped to the conclusion that he willingly gave himself up to Tessa, and then when he tried explaining to me what happened, I wouldn't let him. He was, for all intents and purposes, raped, and he had no one. Yes, he had his parents and I'm sure they helped, but I never gave him the time of day when I should have been there for him. I was the one he should have been able to confide in. I was the one who was supposed to give comfort. I was the one who was supposed to stand by her man always. I was so caught up in my own pain that I never let myself think it could be anything other than what I saw, Mac and Tessa having sex. Yes, the visual evidence was damning, but I still can't help but feel guilt for never listening to him. The first couple of months after that fateful night, Mac tried so many times to talk to me, but I always ran the other way when I saw him headed in my direction.

"Mia, look at me," Mac says. When I bring my eyes back to him, he continues, "What are you thinking?"

I swallow to hold the tears at bay and shake my head. I'll talk to him later when we're alone. He looks like he wants to say something else but before he can, the door whooshes open, and an older man wearing a white coat walks in.

"Good to see you're awake, Miss Walker. I'm Dr. Hughes. How are you feeling?" he asks with a kind smile, and holds out his hand for me to shake.

I try to smile back at him, but I'm sure it comes out wobbly. "My head is pounding, and I'm really tired."

He nods and says, "That's to be expected. The drugs are still in your system. We've given you an IV to try to help flush it out. You should start feeling better in the next few hours. I understand this young man is your brother," he gestures to Jaxon, and then to Mac. "And this one is a close friend of yours?"

"Yes."

"Before we continue, would you like them to leave?" he asks.

I look at Mac and Jaxon, who both have determination written on their faces. It doesn't look like they're going anywhere anytime soon.

"No, they can stay," I tell the doctor. Jaxon is my brother and I need him here with me. Mac is, well, I'm not sure what Mac is, but he deserves to be here to.

"Okay, if you're sure?" At my nod, he continues. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Only bits and pieces."

"I figured as much. After running some tests to confirm our suspicions, they came up as having Rohypnol, better known as the date rape drug, in your system."

The doctor stops to let me process this. Mac picks up my hand and sits on the side of the bed. The doctor sees the movement and stays quiet for a minute before continuing.

"We did a rape screen and, although we did find some bruising, there was no semen or spermicide found. Even though this situation is a terrible one, the good news is, the guy didn't penetrate you with his penis."

I squeeze Mac's hand and close my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. My body starts to tremble and tears prick the back of my eyes. That is good news.

When I open my eyes, again I see the doctor looking at me with sympathy.

"I know it may not sound like it in light of what happened, but you were very lucky your friends found you in time. It's bad enough what happened, but it could have been worse." The doctor reaches over and squeezes my hand.

"I know. I am grateful."

"We're going to keep you for a few more hours to make sure you don't have any lasting reactions to the Rohypnol. I don't foresee any problems, but we'd like to make sure. If all goes well, then you'll be released. Do you have any questions?"

I shake my head. "No, thank you, Dr. Hughes."

"Good. Try to get some rest. I'll come and check on you in a few hours." He leaves with a nod to both Mac and Jaxon.

Jaxon comes to me and bends to place a kiss on my forehead. He pulls back and asks, "Are you okay?" At my nod, he searches my eyes before continuing, "I'll give y'all a few minutes before I let the horde of people in here. The girls and Andrew are worried about you."

"You didn't call Mom, did you?"

"No, I wanted to wait to see how bad it was first. I'll let you talk to her."

I release the breath I was holding at my question. I don't plan on hiding it from her, but I'd like to tell her myself. I know she's going to be upset that she wasn't called right away, but eventually she'll understand.

I give him a watery smile. "Thank you."

He kisses my cheek again before nodding to Mac, turning, and walking out the door.

It's still hard to look at Mac, but I force myself to. There's pain still in the depths of his eyes, but it's not as pronounced. Relief from hearing I wasn't raped lifted a tiny bit of the weight.

"Scoot over," Mac says, and sits on the side of the bed.

I slide over a bit. The bed is small and cramped, but he manages to lie on his side facing me. I'm on my back, but when he pulls me flush against him, I end up on my side with my back against his front. His arms are tight around me, and he buries his face in my hair. He shudders.

"I was so scared when I walked in that room and you were just lying there." His voice is hoarse when he speaks in my ear. "At first I didn't know what was wrong."

"Mac, I'm okay." I try to soothe him. I pull his arms tighter around me. I know that it should be the opposite, him consoling me, but it seems like Mac needs it more right now. Besides, him lying with his arms wrapped around me is all the comfort I need. I know I shouldn't let him so close, but right now I don't want to think about that. I need him just as much as he seems to need me.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there in time. I'm sorry I didn't stop that bastard from touching you."

I release his arms so I can turn over and face him. I place my hand on his cheek. "No, Mac, don't you dare blame yourself," I tell him firmly before softening my voice and continuing, "There is no way you, or anyone else, could know what was going to happen. Don't let this eat at you. You have nothing to be sorry for."

He grabs my hand from his cheek and raises my wrist to his lips, where he kisses it. His eyes close, and he murmurs against my skin, "I should have been there." He opens his eyes, and I still see anguish there. "I hear what you're saying, Pix, but I still should have been there. I should have protected you somehow."

I understand his pain, because I feel the same for not being there for him when he needed me when we were teenagers, but it's different for me. I chose not to be there for him. I let my pain get in the way, whereas with him, he's here, with me. I know he would do just about anything to take the pain away. I didn't do that. I was selfish and thought of my feelings first and foremost, not caring how he was affected. Even though I didn't know he was violated, it doesn't change the fact that he was, and I never gave him the chance to tell me.

"Mac, I don't blame you for this. No one does. Please don't blame yourself. I know that if you could have prevented it, you would have in a heartbeat. The one to blame is the guy who did it."

He puts his hand behind my neck and pulls my head toward him putting his lips to my forehead. He doesn't kiss it, just lets his lips rest there.

We stay like that for a few minutes before the door opens again and all our friends pile into the room. Mac gets up from the bed but doesn't leave my side. I immediately miss his warmth.

Chris rushes to me and grabs my hand. "Oh my God, Mia, I was so scared. Are you okay?"

I give her hand a reassuring squeeze and tell her, "I'm good, Chris."

Her eyes tear up, but she nods and steps to the side.

Karyn walks up next and gives me a hug. "Jaxon told us what the doctor said. I know this doesn't help, but I'm glad it wasn't worse than what it was."

"Me too, Karyn, thank you," I tell her.

Bailey steps up to me and looks at me with tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry we didn't come looking for you sooner," she whispers.

The heartache I hear in her voice brings my own tears to my eyes. I can only imagine how hard this is on her. She already blames herself for Anna's torture and death. I won't have her blaming herself for what happened to me.

"Bailey, you listen to me, okay?" She nods. "I am so grateful for you all coming when you did. I don't want you taking the blame for this. There is nothing you could have done."

Her lip trembles, but she nods. Jaxon walks up and slips his arms around her from behind. He looks at me from over the top of her head and gives me a soft smile. He'll help her get over her guilt.

It's Andrew's turn next to walk up to my bed. The anguish in his eyes almost makes me break down. He bends his head, lightly kisses my lips, and rests his forehead against mine. "I'm glad you're okay, Mia Pia," he says in a deep but low voice.

He pulls back and I notice his knuckles are all scraped. I also notice he has splatters of blood on his wrinkled shirt.

"Is that from—" He doesn't let me finish before answering.

"Yes." His tone is hard and his eyes fierce.

"Thank you," I tell him.

His eyes soften when he nods. "You should also thank Bailey. When I opened the door, she went apeshit crazy when she saw what was happening." My surprised gaze goes to Bailey. "She jumped on the guy's back and started pulling his hair and scratching the shit out of him. I could barely get her off him."

Bailey looks at me sadly. "I wasn't going to let him hurt you anymore. When I saw what he was doing to you, all I could see was Anna lying on that table, and I kind of lost it. I couldn't allow you to be hurt too."

My heart breaks at everything Bailey has gone through. She's been through more than any one person should, and she still came out the other end strong. I count myself extremely lucky to have met her. Anyone who's met her will say the same thing. She's a very special person. I just wish she would let the guilt go over what happened to Anna. Only she can realize that she helped my sister as much as she could. She needs to realize there was nothing else she could have done. She gave Anna the comfort she needed in the situation they were in.

A throat clearing at the door breaks the silence that enveloped the room at Bailey's words. We all turn toward the door to see Nick standing there. His eyes are on Bailey, and there is a mixture of emotions: sadness, pain, shame, and something I can't quite decipher.

He breaks eye contact with Bailey and looks at me. "I just spoke with the cops. They'd like a word with you when you're ready, Mia. They need to take your statement."

Not looking forward to repeating the events of last night, but knowing I have to, I tell him, "Send them in."

FOUR HOURS LATER I'm ready to leave. The doctor left a few minutes ago, and he deemed me well enough to be released. Jaxon took Bailey to my house to pick up some fresh clothes, and now I sit on the edge of the bed waiting on Mac to come back from signing the release papers. Other than having a slight headache and becoming queasy if I stand up too fast, along with the bruises on my thighs and pelvic area, I feel pretty normal.

When I spoke with the cops and gave my statement, I found out that the guy was paid two grand to give me the roofie. They don't know who paid him, and the guy didn't know who he was either. All he had was a description. While the cops were telling me this, I remembered the conversation I overheard while I was asleep. Because of what I heard from Mac and Jaxon, and seeing Andrew's knuckles and shirt, I was concerned that Andrew would get into trouble. The cops assured me that charges were not being laid against him. Andrew was defending a friend.

I also found out that the reason I had a flat tire was because it was slashed. I gave Mac a glare when he revealed this to the cops, angry because he didn't tell me before. He gave me a look that said we would talk about it later. And talk about it later we damn sure will. It pissed me off that he didn't tell me.

Mac comes back into the room carrying some papers, followed by an orderly pushing a wheelchair.

"I don't need that. I can walk on my own fine," I tell the man behind the wheelchair.

"Sorry ma'am, but it's hospital policy." He gives me a sympathetic smile.

I start to protest, because I'm not an invalid that can't walk on my own. I've already shown enough weakness, I don't need this thrown in my face. Mac stops my protest before I can utter a word.

"We know you can do it on your own, but please just let them wheel you out. The sooner you agree, the sooner we can leave."

I shoot daggers at him, still mad that he kept something important from me. But I also know he's right. I get up off the bed with a huff and say, "Fine." I take a seat, and we move out of the room and down the hallway.

Parked right outside the doors is Mac's truck. When I get out of the chair to go to the passenger's side, Mac swoops in and picks me up, carrying me the rest of the way.

"Sheriff, put me down. I can get in the truck myself," I say, and start shoving at his chest.

"Stop moving or I'm going to drop you. I know you can get in yourself, but I want to do it." With that, he bends slightly and opens the door with the arm that's around my back. I have to admit it feels nice being in his arms. He puts me down on the seat and closes the door. Through the window, I can hear him thank the orderly. Then he makes his way around and climbs in behind the wheel.

"You alright?" he asks, while he puts the key in the ignition and starts the truck.

Leaning back against the headrest, I turn my head his way. "Yeah, just tired."

"Rest, I'll wake you when we get there."

I nod and close my eyes. It's not long before the vibration of the truck lulls me to sleep.