Peg’s been waiting in the corner, standing out of the way, but now he’s being dismissed while they get me cleaned up. I can tell by his face that he doesn’t want to leave me, but his chin lift to me promises he’ll be back.
When he’s gone, the tears start flowing.
“Hey…” The doctor comes and sits on the bed, taking my hand in his own. “You’re going to be fine, Darcy. Some recovery time, yeah? Can’t promise you’ll be without pain for a while, but you’re alive, and that’s the main thing, okay?”
I look into his kind eyes and swallow. Then my words come out as a sob. “I was raped.” I might be able to physically heal, but mentally? “Overpowered and raped,” I repeat.
The doctor doesn’t flinch. “I know that. We examined you when you came in. I’ve seen the bruising and bite marks all over your body.” He nods towards the drip running into the back of my hand. “The antibiotics are for that as well.” His eyes give me a look of concern. “When you’re feeling stronger you should talk to a counsellor.”
Talk to someone? I shake my head, not sure I want to speak to someone and tell them what Pete had done.
“The police will want to speak to you as soon as you’re up to it.”
“I don’t want to see anyone yet.” I’ve got a lot to come to terms with, and the list of people I don’t want to see includes Peg. “Peg…” At his lack of understanding, I flick my eyes toward the door. “The man who was here. Ronnie Rinter.”
“He’s not left your side, Darcy. He told us he was your fiancé, so we let him stay.” His eyes narrow. “Is he not someone close to you?” He laughs sharply. “Had to let him in before he broke down the door. He was frantic to see you.”
“I can’t talk to him.” I know I must have worried him, I could see that in his eyes. But if it’s even possible, first I’ve got to come to terms with what Pete did to me. If I’m not strong enough to cope with it, how could I take Peg’s reaction to knowing I’d been raped? Would he be able to keep it together? I remember how I longed for him when I lay alone, hurt and thinking I was going to die, how all the reasons I’d pushed him away seemed insignificant. But now, perhaps, it would be him that walks, unable to think of another man taking what he considered was his. I’m scared. Too scared to see him. Too scared to see the disgust in his eyes, when I’m filled disgusted myself.
“You prefer someone else to visit with you?” Again, the doctor laughs as he interrupts my thoughts. “There’s a waiting room full of people, firefighters and bikers of all people.”
I give a weak shake of my head and repeat, “I don’t want to see anyone yet.” I can’t.
I was raped. Violated. Pete was so rough, more like an animal than a human being. And he left marks. I need to get right with that in my own head before talking with people who’ll either try to ignore it or give me platitudes that everything will be alright, when I can’t see a way forward.
I was going to split up with Peg. But my reasons seem so ridiculous now. Why were they? Oh yeah, because a relationship with him might interfere with my job. But even if I heal, will I still be able to be a firefighter? Will my co-workers ever look at me in the same way? Will this have made them realise what I’d worked hard to disguise, that I’m a weak female trying to live in a man’s world?
What was the second reason? That Peg would have suffocated me. But if I’d let him look after me, protect me, I wouldn’t be in this hospital bed.
Huh, I don’t even know why I’m worrying about that, it’s the last thing that matters. I feel so dirty I can’t imagine a time when I’d want him, or anyone, to touch me intimately again. In fact, I’d like to wipe out the entire male race, anything with a dick. While I know that’s not fair, it was Pete who did this, no one else, it doesn’t stop my skin crawling at the thought of a man’s hands on me. Any man. Even Peg’s. I never want to be at the mercy of a man again, never again want to feel overpowered.
I’m destroyed. I’d like to cut off Pete’s dick.
I don’t want to see him ever again, even for that. Just the thought of looking at him over a court room fills me with horror, knowing he’d have a smirk on his face reckoning his fancy lawyers would help him get off. Promising retribution if they succeeded. The machine beeps speed up as I remember his face just before he shot me and left me for dead, and the promise he’d made—if I survived, he would be back.
What I wouldn’t do to wipe yesterday from my mind. But it’s not possible. Unless Pete’s locked up, I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.
Not if you’re with Peg, my traitorous mind suggests. No, that would be using him like a crutch. I can’t do that to him. I doubt he’d be interested in a platonic relationship. The thought of even him looking at me, stroking his cock, brings back memories of Pete. All men are alike. No, they’re not.
“Darcy.” An even-sounding voice gets my attention. I look up to see a man I know is called Ralph. He’s a paramedic on another crew that I’ve bumped into on a few shouts. He’s not looking at me like a friend, but as a medic. “Open your eyes, Flash. Are you in pain?”
I do, and see him watching the monitors, his hand on the pulse in my wrist. He’s looking concerned. “How did you get in here? I said no visitors.”
“I have my ways.” He winks, and leans over, looking carefully into my eyes. “You not been pumping the pain meds lately? Or has your heartrate increased because you’re getting lost in your head?”
His business like, yet still sympathetic bedside manner helps me concentrate on steadying my breathing. A couple of minutes later, he eyes the monitor again. “That’s better. You were headed for a panic attack there.” He pauses to explain why he’s here. “I was the paramedic who was first on the scene. Had to come in and see with my eyes you’re alright. You’d stopped breathing, Flash.” As his eyes fill with pain, I feel sorry that I put him through that. No, I didn’t. Pete did.
But it doesn’t stop me apologising. “I’m sorry, Ralph. You shouldn’t have had to see me that way.” I try moving my arm and reach out to touch his hand briefly. “Thank you for bringing me back.” Though there’s a little voice inside saying if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be dealing with what I am now. Would death have been easier?
“There’s no need to thank me. I’m just glad I was able to do my job.” He straightens stiffly. “And, Flash, the police are outside waiting to speak to you.”
I turn my head away. “I can’t talk to them now.”
“Listen to me, Flash. I don’t want a call to pick up anyone else the way I found you. Christ, girl, I thought you’d gone, and for a moment there, you had. This guy needs to be caught, and caught fast. He’s got away with…with hurting you.” He tactfully avoids referring to my obvious rape. “Now he’s got a taste he might do it again. Fuck, you might not even have been his first. Help them to catch him.”
He’s right. But seeing how quickly Pete got out of jail last time, I’ve started to have grave doubts in our legal system. But with a slow nod, I agree he can let them in, Pete has to be stopped. Has he tried something like this before? It was luck, not judgement, that I’m not dying a slow, painful death. If the bullet in my stomach had been an inch over, I wouldn’t have had a chance. It’s the second time Pete nearly killed me. Next time he’ll probably succeed.
Ralph doesn’t waste time showing the cops in, and soon his place by my bed is taken by a female detective and, who I assume, is her male partner, neither of whom I recognise. She pulls up a chair and looks on at me sympathetically. Almost textbook so far. Let the female take the lead in a case of sexual abuse.
After a period of silence, during which she seems to catalogue my injuries with her eyes, she asks me to tell her what happened.
I tell her everything I remember, which unfortunately is too much. I start by saying how I’d thought it had been another crew member behind me, and I’d pulled off the road. Then Pete overpowered me, raped me, and shot me. I spend a few minutes taking them through everything that he did.
She
looks pointedly at my wrists. “You were tied up?”
“Yes. He pistol-whipped me or something, and when I came around my hands were roped together behind my back.” An unbidden sob comes to my throat as I admit how he’d taken control. “He shot me like an animal.”
“Rope.” She seems almost to be ignoring me. “That’s what you used?”
What? “Me? I didn’t use it. Pete did. He trussed me up, so I couldn’t move.” I try to pull myself into a sitting position, but only succeed in pulling on my damaged stomach muscle and have to lie back down, gritting my teeth against the pain. “What the fuck are you suggesting? That we were playing games? And why the hell was Pete out of jail?”
“While we were waiting for you to come round, we’ve spoken to Mr Mercer, who you took out a restraining order against. Mr Mercer explained you like rough sex.” She says it dismissively. “Said the bikers interrupted one of your games before, and you were too embarrassed to admit it. That construction site where you were picked up belongs to the Satan’s Devils. Mr Mercer mentioned you were seeing one of the bikers and thought it could have been one of your sex games gone wrong.”
“That’s utter crap…” Suddenly, I remember Pete’s strange comment about the irony of the location. He must have known who owned the site.
“And so’s your story. Mr Mercer has got a cast iron alibi for yesterday evening and night. He was with his father until late.”
I don’t think I could open my eyes any wider. “Then they’re both lying.”
Her eyebrow arches. “When he left he went straight to his girlfriend’s house and spent the whole night with her. She lying as well? You either convinced yourself you thought you saw him, or you’re trying to accuse him of something he didn’t do. Maybe to deflect attention from the bikers. There’s no evidence to suggest he was there.”
“He wore condoms, which he took with him.”
“Oh, I agree you had sex with someone. But it could have started off consensual.”
I give her an incredulous look. “The bite marks on my body? The bruises?”
“We were told you liked it rough.” She repeats her earlier assertion.
Again, I try to sit up, feeling vulnerable in a prone position. I fail and have to make do with pointing down to my stomach. “How do you explain I was shot? Pretty extreme for a sex game, wouldn’t you say?”
“Your foot or leg could have been accidental. The other shots when your assailant realised what he’d done. One of those bikers wouldn’t hesitate to take someone out. You’re playing with fire getting involved with them.”
“And conveniently left me to be found on their construction site?”
She shrugs. “They pulled off their crew. Maybe so you wouldn’t be found in time to be saved.”
She’s got it all worked out. A way to keep Pete out of it and dump bikers who no one in the city trusts, right in it. “Who’s paying you?” I suddenly feel compelled to ask. “A man rapes me, shoots me, and leaves me for dead. I give you his name and you believe a false alibi without digging deeper. And you have the nerve to suggest the sex was consensual?”
I can’t believe this. The detective behind her coughs. “We’ll be investigating it, but from the men we’ve seen outside in the waiting room, you consort with the wrong types.”
The memory of how gentle Peg had been with me comes into my head, and the way both men and women acted on the compound. I hadn’t even seen one of the club whores with bruises or looking afraid. He couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Look, Miss Cavanaugh, I know you were fighting the wildland fire over the past few days and must have been absolutely exhausted. Maybe that made you make some wrong decisions. Now, tell us the truth and we’ll go and pick up the man who hurt you. He has caused grievous bodily harm.”
“I nearly died,” I interrupt her. “I’ve already told you who did it. He must have blood on his clothes…”
“And we’ve been told you’ve got a grudge against him. You’ve already tried to set him before. This time,” she waves at my broken body, “you went too far. Knowing how injured you are, Mr Mercer isn’t going to press charges. But he’s taken out a restraining order against you.”
“Against me?” Due to my weakened state, my indignant scream comes out more like a squeal from a pig being slaughtered. I can’t believe what she’s saying.
The detective behind her coughs again. When she turns to look at him, she raises her head, he shakes his. It’s obviously some kind of signal as she gets up from her seat. With one last look toward me, she says, “If you remember anything else that would be helpful, you can reach me on this number.” She holds out a card, and when I make no move to take it, places it on the table beside me, wedged in between a bottle of water and a glass.
“Hang on.” I find the energy to call them back. “You are going to continue to investigate this, aren’t you? The bite marks for a start. You can match them to Mercer’s teeth…”
She stares back at me. “I’m not going to put Mr Mercer through anymore distress, not when he’s proved he couldn’t have been there. But I assure you, we’ll keep looking to see whether we can find any evidence. When we do, we’ll be talking to the bikers again, and if it’s anyone’s teeth we’ll be looking at, I suspect it will be some of theirs.” She regains the step she took backward and is at my side once again. “Mr Mercer Senior is a very important person. It’s not unlikely someone would try and get to him through his son. Think very carefully about your accusations. It seems it’s becoming common to accuse a powerful man in order to get attention.”
“What the ever lovin’ fuck are you on?” Peg blasts through the door in time to hear the last statement. “Miss Cavanaugh has been badly hurt and you accuse her of lyin’.” His eyes fall on me and soften, then harden again as he turns back to the cop. “What’s your name?”
“Detective Harper.”
Peg smooths his hand over his face. “If you’re in the Bureau of Investigations, you probably report to Lieutenant Diaz, don’t you?”
“You know him?” She sounds surprised, then smirks. “Oh yeah, well, someone in your position, I expect you do.”
A nasty grin spreads across Peg’s features. “Oh, you’d be surprised how I know him. He and I will be havin’ words.”
If I wasn’t feeling so poorly, I’d laugh at the look on her face—her features battling to maintain control, while worry widens her eyes. Then I feel despair once again. Whatever sway Peg has with the lieutenant, I suspect Pete’s father will have more. Just who is Mr Mercer Senior, anyway?
Peg pointedly holds the door open, and the police walk out. He shuts it behind them and comes over. “What the fuck, Flashfire? What have they been sayin’?”
I’d rather not talk, but I tell him anyway. As I describe the suggestions the detective had come up with, Peg hums with rage. His reaction isn’t too much different from my own.
“Darcy, I’ll get Mouse onto investigatin’ who this Mercer Senior is. I assure you Pete’s not going to be gettin’ away with it.
Weakly I raise my hand and point to the door. “They think he is.”
“They don’t have a fuckin’ clue,” Peg snarls. “You’ve been attacked and raped. That man had his cock near you once again, which is one time too many.”
He knows. My eyes flick to his to see how he’s taking it. As his eyes meet mine, I read the hurt in them, but it doesn’t stop me telling him the worst. “Three times,” I whisper, mentally seeing those used condoms lying on the ground and Pete carefully picking them all up.
“Oh, fuck, Darcy.” Peg comes closer, and I put up my hands to ward him away.
“Peg, no. I can’t. I don’t want…”
He looks crushed. “You don’t want me to touch you.”
I turn my head so I don’t have to see him, but can’t block out his words.
“I don’t know what to do, what to say. But just know this, nothin’ you say or do is going to make me go away. You might not want me in the room
with you right now, and that’s okay, I’ll give you space. I’ll just tell you this, Darcy. I love you. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
I keep looking the other way, knowin’ I’ll break if I see how much he hurts.
“One thing, Darcy. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Peg.”
“It is,” he contradicts in clipped tones. “We own the construction site. Viper and Bullet pulled their men off to fuckin’ help clear the track to the compound. You should have been found so much earlier.” His voice breaks. “I can’t believe what you went through, lyin’ there hurtin’ and no one comin’…”
“It’s not your fault, Peg,” I repeat, unable to come up with anything different to say. I feel weak, I hurt and I just want him to leave.
“I love you, Darcy. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever’s happened, we can work through this, okay? I love you.”
Hearing the door closing, I suspect he’s gone out and has at last left me alone. Which is good, I don’t know how to respond to his declaration.
“Oh, hello. You must be Darcy’s man. I’m Mrs Easton, a social worker. I just want a quick word with Darcy.” I groan. It’s someone else coming in, not Peg going out. I bite my tongue, not wanting to get into it with Peg, so don’t contradict her. “Darcy, the doctor’s told me about the tablet you asked for, but I wanted a word with you first to ask that you reconsider.”
I realise what she’s talking about, the doctor and I had discussed it. “Just tell the nurse to bring it in, please.” I go to sit up and again fall back because of the pain. Peg’s arm comes around me to help, and once I’m propped against the pillows, immediately pulls away. It wasn’t a sexual or even affectionate touch.
“Now you need to think carefully. What might come could be a blessing…”
“I don’t want to think about it.” I’m adamant. I know Pete used condoms, but they’re not infallible. While I’d been fighting the fire, keeping up taking the pill was the last thing on my mind. Pregnancy’s probably a tiny risk, but one I don’t want to take. Trust me to get a pro-life social worker visit me.
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