Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3)

by Anne Berkeley

  I needed to find Camilla so I could leave. Screw my purse.

  Opening the door, I took a look around. The place was huge. I was never going to find her in a crowd that large. I didn’t even remember what she was wearing. Navy…black…it was a dark color. I couldn’t say if she was wearing pants or a dress. Taking a step out into the open, I slowly made my way to the right. I’d have to double back so I could avoid Cade.

  I had circled the dancefloor almost completely with no sign of Camilla. I didn’t dare get any closer to Cade’s table. I could see him from where I stood. He was panning the dancefloor, likely looking for me. My purse was still clutched in his hand. Fucking bastard piece of shit.

  Heading back to the bar, I pushed my way through the crowd and flagged down one of the bartenders. Several people voiced their complaints about butting in line. I did my best to ignore them as the bartender approached. He didn’t look the friendly type. Just my luck.

  “What can I get you?” He finished drying his hands on a dishtowel and slung it over his shoulder.

  “I need to make a phone call.”

  “Payphones are at the entrance, sweetheart.” He moved on to the next person in line, pointing at the man behind me.

  Determinedly, I shouted over them. “Hey! Listen to me—Jake Whalen told me to ask for whatever I need. I need him on the phone. Now.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “His fucking girlfriend, asshole! Now get him on the damn phone before you’re out of a fucking job!” I wished it sounded as assertive as it did in my head, but my tongue felt thick in my mouth.

  “I hate to tell you, sweetheart, but I’m going to be out of a job if you’re lying.” Regardless, he pulled a phone from beneath the bar and dialed. Covering his opposite ear, he went back and forth with who I’m assuming was Jake, and then passed the phone to me.

  “Jake?”

  “Sit tight. We’re coming to get you.”

  “Cade has my purse. He’s holding it hostage until I come back to the table.”

  “I’ll get your purse! Stay the fuck away from Cade! Do you hear me? Paisley—”

  “I think I had too much to drink,” I slurred over his shouting. “I don’t feel good.” Then I did something that made me hate myself. I cried, ugly, drunk sobs, which only made me feel worse. My head felt heavy. I laid my forehead on the bar. “I think I might pass out.”

  “Paisley, put the bartender back on the phone!”

  Good idea, but there was something else I needed to tell him first. What was it? “They took my friend Camilla. I can’t find her.”

  “We’ll find her, Shaw. Stay right where you are. Do you hear me?”

  We, who was this we? “Are my brothers with you?”

  “Shaw, please. I need you to listen to me. Stay right where you are. Do not move from that fucking stool.”

  “I’m not stupid! He wants me to go upstairs with him!” My last words were a struggle to get out. My head spun sickeningly. Tears streamed down my face. “Jake, I don’t feel good.”

  “Put the bartender back on the phone. Please.”

  “There you are, pet.” As if he was most concerned over my absence, Cade rested one hand on my back, and plucked the phone from my hand with the other. With a smirk, he placed the phone to his ear. “Hey, Jake, your pet’s not feeling well. I think I’ll take her back to my room and tuck her in for you. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her. She’s in good hands.”

  Handing the phone back to the bartender, he spoke with contrived chagrin. “Sorry about that. She had a little too much to drink.”

  “Happens.”

  “I’ll get her out of your hair. Sorry if she was any trouble.”

  I lifted my head to argue. Everything went black.

  Chapter 20

  I wish I could say I woke slowly and with the grace of dawn’s first breath, but it was more like I was torn from sleep and dragged into Hell’s embraces, poked with a pitchfork and tossed into the fire. My entire body felt weighted and my heart seemed to have taken up residence in my skull. The persistent thump…thump…thump made my eyes brim with tears.

  “Paisley?” said a familiar masculine voice. I couldn’t quite place it, but then most of my attention was focused on the mess that was otherwise known as myself. “Paisley, do you know where you are?”

  “I’m going to be sick.” It was all I could manage before vomiting profusely. My stomach heaved, expelling its contents in the large plastic basin pressed against my face.

  “You’re at Udub. You were brought in by ambulance a short time ago. Someone slipped Rohypnol into your drink, a lot of it. We performed a gastric lavage. Unfortunately, most of the drug was already in your system. So I dosed you with flumazenil to counter the effects.”

  I knew I should be embarrassed. I had a string of saliva hanging from my lip. My mouth tasted like stomach acid and rancid whiskey. My hand, however, appeared to be tethered to the bed. I didn’t have the dignity of wiping my face. On the bright side, I’d placed the voice.

  “Henry.” I didn’t have the energy to enunciate it like an expletive.

  “Paisley.” Disposing of the stomach basin and towel, he unstrapped my wrists from the Velcro cuffs. “Sorry about the restraints. You were being a little combative when the paramedics brought you in.”

  “Did I land any hits?”

  Henry never did have a sense of humor. Gravely, he sat on the edge of the bed, and grasped my hand. “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

  I didn’t know where it came from. Well, I did. It was the drugs. I’d seen it a million times in the emergency room. A sob ripped up my throat. Tears brimmed over and streaked my face. I scrubbed at them with the back of my hand, careful of the IV. “The last thing I remember I was sitting at the bar.”

  “The police report says attempted rape, but they’d like to do a rape kit to be safe. Your dress was intact when they found you,” he explained, “but your underwear was missing. The sooner we can perform the exam, the better. Do we have your consent?”

  “Yeah.” Fuck. I wasn’t religious, but I guess the best of us prayed at times like these. I said a silent prayer that the police were right, but if that fucker touched me in any way, I wanted it on record.

  Reaching over me, Henry pressed the call button. “The nurse will be in shortly. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “A bouquet of z-packs would be great.”

  “I’ll get you some before you leave. We’ll need to monitor you for a little while longer before you go home.” Giving my hand a squeeze, he stood and jotted some last notes down on my charts. “Is there anyone you’d like to have with you? Your brothers and fiancé are here somewhere being treated. And there’re a slew of people in the waiting room.”

  Fiancé? “Um, no. Thanks. I’d like to be alone for a few minutes.”

  Nonetheless, the second Henry closed the door, the three were shoving it open again. Pax was the first to step through, and then Peter. Jake stepped through last, and waited inconspicuously off to the side. Self-consciously, I wiped at my face, wondering how bad I looked. If it was akin to how I felt, I probably looked like fucking hell.

  “How ya feeling, squirt?” Peter asked, which earned him an elbow in the ribs from Pax.

  “What kinda dumbass question is that?”

  “What?” Genuinely perplexed, Peter rubbed at his ribs, in obvious discomfort.

  “How do you think she’s feeling?” He held his hand out, gesturing in my direction. Apparently I did look as bad as I felt.

  “Better than I am. Fuck. Did you have to do that so hard?”

  “Idiot.” Shaking his head, Pax sat on the edge of the bed. Taking my hand, he began to pat it, but thought better when he saw the IV. “It’s good to see you awake again.”

  “I’d have to agree with Peter,” I croaked. “You two look worse than I do. What happened?”

  “We served our own brand of justice,” Pax explained. “Nobody messes with our little siste
r. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “Don’t listen to him. We got our asses handed to us,” Peter confessed. “That fucking guy was huge. Pax and I were taking turns on him. Man, he flicked us off like we were fleas. Then Marshall jumps in. Hammerfists the fucker. Takes him down with one shot. It was almost comical. Seriously, you only see shit like that in cartoons. I might’ve laughed if I wasn’t indignant.”

  Pax looked over his shoulder, skewing Peter with an acidic glare. “Speak for yourself, moron.”

  “I don’t have to speak on your behalf. Your bruises say it all.” They did. One eye was completely swollen shut. He had a few more cuts along his brow, his chin, and across his upper lip. That was saying a lot. Pax was a good fighter. Peter wasn’t so bad himself. Ironically, he did fight like a flea, the way he attacked and fell back. He still packed one hell of a punch.

  “I’m trying to reassure her, idiot. Stop invalidating everything I say.”

  “But that’s my point,” Peter retorted. “She shouldn’t blame herself. Christ, the two of us couldn’t fight him off. How was she supposed to defend herself?”

  My nose wrinkled. I turned my head, staving off the tears. I was stupid. So fucking stupid. What was I thinking toying with someone like Cade? I was the idiot that people shook their head at and claimed that I was looking for trouble, or that I deserved what I got. I couldn’t help thinking they were right. I’d served myself to him on a silver fucking platter.

  “Peter’s right, squirt. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said thickly. Sure.

  Ever observantly, Pax frowned. “Paisley—”

  Cutting him short, the door opened. The SANE—sexual assault nurse examiner—had arrived. She pushed the cart through the door, navigating it into the tightly packed room. She was a petite woman with a sleek ponytail that revealed a defined jaw. She looked more like a FBI recruit than a nurse, but who was I to judge? I once had purple hair.

  “My name’s Clarice. I’m the sexual assault nurse examiner. If you’re ready, I’d like to start the exam.”

  “That’s my queue,” Pax said. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before leaving the room.

  “Mine too,” Peter added. Following Pax by example, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you in a little while, pipsqueak.”

  “I hate when you call me that.”

  “I know.” He ruffled my hair before walking away.

  Jake was the last to go. He stepped forward, abandoning his obscurity in the corner of the room. “I’d like to stay if that’s allowed.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I voiced. “It’s going to take a while.”

  “I’ll be going through a list of questions all personal in nature, as well as an internal exam,” Clarice added. “I’ll be collecting DNA evidence, swabbing for STDs, and documenting all of her injuries.”

  “You don’t have to go through this alone.” Proving his point, he pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. “I’m not leaving.” His tone said the room. His eyes said ever.

  ♪♫♪♫

  More than a few hours later, I was finally on my way home, albeit numb and exhausted. Everyone and their mother showed up at the emergency room. Literally. Even Dr. Watkins came to see me. From what Jake had told me, he, Carter, and my brothers were only around the corner when I called, and happened to be on the phone with Tate. Tate called the police, and alerted Evan and Taylor, who, concerned that the quartet might commit a homicide, left to intervene or bail them out, if needed. Marshall jumped in the bandwagon because he was the anointed rescuer of women in distress. Em drove a third car so that she could offer emotional support in case I needed it. Shane couldn’t leave Em drive alone, so he came along for the ride.

  I hadn’t actually seen any of my visitors besides my immediate family and my—cough—fiancé. Nonetheless, it was nice that they came. I hadn’t seen any of them in over a month when I skipped out on Coop and Tate. I didn’t deserve that sort of kindness or respect.

  Jake rolled to a stop in front of my apartment. Turning the key in the ignition, he shut the car off and climbed out. A second later, he was opening the passenger door for me. I was completely out of it, but he was attentive to my absence of mind, always a step ahead of me.

  The sun was teasing the horizon, turning the sky navy with a hint of warmth along the peaks of the trees. A sparkling field of stars took their final bow, so numerous that it made me pause to wonder why I’d never noticed the beauty of it before. It was an odd observation, but I took comfort in it. Even after a night like tonight, the universe still held a whisper of magic.

  Gathering my attention, Jake placed his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s get inside. You’re shivering.”

  “I’m tired.” It was true enough.

  Approaching the door to my apartment, I realized I didn’t have my keys. I’d forgotten Pax had stolen them earlier when he left. Nonetheless, Jake produced from his pocket, my pepper spray keychain. Grimly, he looked at it, his mouth pinched in a tight line.

  “It wouldn’t have done any good. I would’ve put them in my purse, and he took my purse. At least now I can get in my apartment.”

  Jake glanced at me, but I could tell he felt differently. Guiding my key into the lock, he twisted it and pushed the door open. For a long moment, we both stood there. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight, Shaw. You can ignore me again tomorrow if you like, but you’re stuck with me a few more hours.”

  “Technically, it’s morning.” Because I was too tired to argue, I conceded and stepped into my apartment. There was a note on the console. It was from Peter.

  “Your brothers?”

  “Peter. He cancelled my credit cards and reported my license stolen. Pax is going to deal with the phone since it’s on his plan.”

  “They said they might stop by.” Dropping my keys onto the console, he ambled farther into my apartment.

  It wasn’t as if any of this was real. It was like watching through someone else’s eyes. I knew I was in shock, but I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. “I’m going to shower.”

  “I’ll find you something to eat.”

  “Toast is fine.” In the bathroom, I started up the shower. While I waited for the water to heat, I pulled a handful of cotton balls and makeup remover from under the sink. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw in the mirror. Yes, I listened to the nurse as she cataloged my injuries, but I had only been half aware of what she was saying. My left eye was black and blue. My upper lip was split. A ring of bruises circled my neck.

  I wasn’t the victim. I’d fought back, I told myself, and went back to removing the mottled eyeliner and mascara from around my eyes. I would not cry. I had nothing left in me.

  As I was finishing up, the room began to fill with clouds of steam. I tossed the soiled cotton balls into the wastebasket and pulled my shirt over my head. My wrists and upper arms were ringed with small bruises in the shape of fingertips. More lined the inside of my thighs.

  The nurse found no evidence of forced entry. I had no internal damage. I took comfort in that. I’d fought back, I told myself again. It was the unknown that got to me. That and my own stupidity. I’d played right into his hands. I should’ve known better. Jake had warned me.

  Tears brimmed my eyes. I guess I did have something left in me.

  Stepping into the shower, I cursed myself as I scrubbed the filth of his touch from my skin. I wished I could wash away my idiocy as easily. A fucking porn star. What was I thinking? I’d seen him with that woman. Even then, had I not seen his intent? It was as if he looked right at me while he fucked her. I scrubbed harder. I could practically feel his hands on me.

  There were so many things I should’ve done differently. I’d broken all the rules. I dressed too revealing. I flirted with him. I drank too much. I didn’t make sure Camilla had my back. I didn’t keep an eye on my drink. I didn’t keep my valuable safe. How much stupider could I have been? That was the worst part; I knew better.
My brothers had burned it into my head.

  “Shaw?” Jake’s voice echoed through the bathroom.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  “Are you ok? You’ve been here in a while. I knocked a few times. You didn’t answer.”

  Waking fully, I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. I’d used all the hot water. Quickly, I turned off the tap. Reaching around the curtain, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around myself. My jaw was chattering so loudly I was afraid I might crack my enamel.

  “Shit!” I stammered. “That’s fucking cold!”

  Concerned, Jake pushed the curtain back. He perused me from head to toe. “Jesus, Shaw.” Grabbing another towel, he draped it over my head and began rubbing vigorously, drying my hair. “You’re going to give yourself hypothermia.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I said curtly. “I ran out of hot water.”

  Holding me at arm’s length, he pulled the towel back and looked over my face. “I know. I’m just worried about you.” His eyes dropped lower, anguish furrowing his brows. My skin had a bright pink glow caused by my vigorous scrubbing with the loofah.

  “I’m fine.”

  Drawing me into his arms, he sighed. I let my head rest against his chest. “He didn’t get that far.”

  “I can't remember anything. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”

  “You did good, Shaw. You kept him off long enough for the police to arrive, even with the drugs. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “Proud of myself?” I objected. “I got myself into the mess in the first place!” Once again, my eyes filled with tears. Anger and shame poured out of me. I tried to stifle a sob, but it came out an indelicate snort. “Do you know what I went there for, Jake? Do you want to take a guess?”

  “Because your buddy Camilla coerced you into going.”

  Immediately guilt ensued. Alarms bells went off. “Oh, God…Camilla!” I hadn’t even asked about her. Was she ok? Had they found her?

  “She’s fine. She’s probably safe in bed dreaming of sugar plums and giant cocks that can bear towels and linens.”

  “Oh, thank god.”