Broken World (13 page)

No one says a word.

“Where do I start?” I ask the DA at last.

“From the beginning.”

Before I start, Chris returns without Daddy or his team. He’s tense but doesn’t order me up. He sits down beside me and takes out his notebook to take notes.

I do as the DA says. I tell him everything from how I was dressed to how much I drank to the fake ID, fireflies, the strange pill I spit out, the things Robert and Madison said to me, watching them shoot up with some drug while I danced around the fountain. I choke up talking about what they did to me. I close my eyes and recall the pain, the black outs, trying to escape. Begging Robert not to hurt me. Screaming when they both did. I even remember hurting Madison and how that pissed him off enough to beat me first with his fists and kicks then with the metal thing that knocked me out. Finally, I tell him how I woke up and saw Kiesha and Dom, and how Dom had a New York accent like my grandfather’s, and I thought my late grandfather must’ve sent Dom to protect me.

I tell them everything, even things I didn’t tell Ari and Dr. Thompkins.

The DA doesn’t interrupt. No one does. I hear the clerk typing. When I stop, the clerk stops. It’s quiet, and I open my eyes. They’re all staring at me. Kiesha is frowning. Dom’s hand is covering his mouth, and his gaze is intense, angry. The DA looks like he’s absorbing everything, and Chris is gripping his pen hard enough that his knuckles are white.

“You remember more than the other girls,” the DA says finally. “They were fully drugged.”

“I wasn’t so lucky,” I murmur.

“Will you consent to a line-up?” one of the men beside him asks.

“Detective Wilson,” the DA says. “He’s working the cases.”

“Yes,” I reply. “I’ve got nothing else to lose.”

“You can be assured of our complete cooperation,” Chris adds.

“I came away from the Abbott-Renou’s discussion with a different impression,” the DA says. “Does the good Senator share your eagerness to cooperate?”

“The Abbott-Renous are entitled to keep their family business private. Mia will cooperate.”

I don’t know what that means or if I can go home tonight or not. The DA doesn’t look satisfied with Chris’s answer either. Chris is good at that.

“Do you have a plan for dealing with the publicity this is going to generate?” the DA asks. “It’s a concern for my office. The potential magnitude of interest in these incidents is about to skyrocket.”

“Our preparations are not the concern of your office.”

“Let me rephrase.” The DA sits forward. “I am willing to hold onto this for a short period of time, before we go public, as we finalize our case. It is clear to me that the Senator and his daughter are not on the same page. We need her testimony and cooperation. We don’t need phone calls from the President telling us to back off.”

I flush and look at Chris. He’s quiet for a moment, considering.

“At least two weeks,” he says at last. “On October first, Mia will be eighteen and able to make her own decisions legally.”

Daddy’s ditching me. I knew he would.

“We are considering pulling her out of school on her eighteenth birthday, and she’ll be assigned a team of bodyguards,” Chris adds. “We are fully aware of the type of negative attention this trial has the potential to generate. If you will concur, what hours she owes on her community service after you go public will be dismissed.”

“We can do that,” the DA agrees. “I’ve asked Kiesha and Dom to attend meetings, their duties allowing. I think they make you more comfortable, Mia?”

I nod.

“Kiesha was one of the responders for three of the eight rapes, including the last one. Rape victims normally respond better to female officers, but I understand now why you’ve been open with Dom, since his accent reminds you of your grandfather. Do you have any questions for me?”

“What happens next?” I ask, afraid of the answer.

“We’re finalizing investigating the case. In a few weeks, we’ll call you and the other girls in for a line-up to identify your attackers, present our findings to the DA’s office, and arrest the assailants for interviewing. Chances are, they’ll lawyer up, go to arraignment and be released on bail. After that, we wait for a court date or see if they’ll plead out,” Detective Wilson said.

It sounds overwhelming. “Do I have to be here for all of that?”

“No. We’ll call you in when we need something,” the DA says. “You won’t be back until after you’re eighteen. My office will release a statement to the press today saying you were here as part of your probation. No one will know we’re pressing forward until October first.”

I look at Chris. I want so badly to ask him what happens when I turn eighteen.

“Thank you, Mia, for coming forward.” The DA’s small smile is sincere. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“I hope so.”

“Too late now,” Chris says.

I roll my eyes at him. The DA is studying me.

“You have a minute, Chris?” he asks, gaze going to my uncle.

“I do. Mia, wait for me outside the conference room.”

The rest of us in the room take the dismissal and leave. Kiesha holds out her arms when we step outside the conference room, and I hug her hard.

“You did so good in there!” she says.

“Thank you for being here,” I whisper, shaking.

“We’ll get ‘em. I know it.” Her resolve makes me feel better. “I’m happy to see you’re healed.”

“It’s been rough,” I admit.

“You’re a fighter. Dom pegged you right.”

“My card, Ms. Mia.” Detective Wilson says from behind me.

Kiesha releases me, and I turn to take the card.

“We’ll be in contact,” he says then joins the other man in a suit. They walk down the hall.

Kiesha glances at Dom then squeezes my arm and walks the same way the detective went. I look at Dom, who’s standing quietly across the hall from me. He gives me a small, distracted smile.

“I’m proud of you, Mia,” he says. “I really am.”

“Thanks, but that’s not gonna help me in two weeks when I’m homeless and lawyer-less.”

“Chris won’t let that happen.”

“I wonder if your sister has room at the shelter or if I should just pick a ditch?” I joke. At least, I mean for it to be a joke. The last word catches in my throat, and I’m embarrassed by the pain in my voice.

“You’re better off in a ditch than with that family of yours.”

His blunt words – and the hard emotion in his voice – startle me. If he’s angry, it means he cares. It dawns on me that he really did make a choice at the ball, after I issued my ultimatum. I can’t believe he chose me. No one ever chooses me!

“You got my number,” he says, upbeat once again. Dom has a game face, too, like everyone else in my life. He puts his back on as he pretends not to care. Except I know the truth now.

“Thank you,” I reply.

“No problem,” he says too easily. He starts away.

“Dom, wait,” I say, touching his arm.

He faces me. I drop my hand, searching his gaze for some sign of Dom-my-friend, not Dom-the-police-officer.

“Seriously. Thank you for caring about me enough to be here,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me.”

He hesitates then mumbles, “You’re welcome, Mia” before he moves away.

I’m not sure why I’m disappointed by his response, maybe because he’s still hiding from me. I’m sick of that shit where everyone has two faces. Not my Dom, now that I know he does care. I call out after him.

“I’ll text you from my ditch!”

“You know it won’t come to that,” he replies over his shoulder.

“Whatever you say, hero.”

That stops him. He lets out an aggravated sigh that almost makes me smile then faces me once more.

“My six-year-old niece uses that tone with me when I won’t take her for ice cream. You know what I do?” he asks. He walks towards me, pausing a couple feet away.

I smile and shake my head. The mention of his niece brings warmth to his features, replacing the tension from the conference room.

“I hang her upside down by her feet. And then we go get ice cream.”

“I’ll pass on being hung upside down,” I say with a small laugh. “But you can take me for ice cream.” Too late, I realize what I’ve said. I’m surprised by my words and even more surprised to realize I don’t regret them. At all.

Dom studies me for a moment. “There’s a line right here” he draws an imaginary line between us “that we can’t cross until you’re eighteen.”

I flush and look down.

“If, in a few weeks, you want to cross it, call me,” he continues in the same soft voice. “I’ll take you out for ice cream.”

My breath catches at his words. I meet his gaze again. He’s serious.

“Totally up to you,” he says. He raises his hands in surrender and takes a few steps back.

“After all this, you really want anything to do with me?” I can’t help the note of disbelief in my voice.

“Just, if you’re … whatever. Interested. No pressure, though.”

For the first time since I met him, Dom seems less-than-certain. Or flustered. Or … nervous?

“Take care,” he says then turns and strides down the hall.

I watch him. Then I smile. I don’t think this went the way either of us thought it would, but I’m thrilled by the idea that he just sort of asked me out. I thought I’d never want anything to do with men, but I’m beginning to think I want something to do with Dom when all of this is over.

He disappears around a corner. I’m feeling close to the happiest I’ve been since the nightmare began this summer. Until the door to the dreaded conference room opens.

“We need you to read over your statement and sign it,” Chris says, standing in the doorway.

There goes any happiness. I trudge in. Rereading the long, long statement takes me to tears again. I sign it and pass it back to the DA. It’s near midnight when I walk out of the courthouse. Chris says nothing to me as we walk to the awaiting car and nothing when we get in.

Finally, I ask him. “Did Daddy kick me out?”

“No.”

“It sounds like he did.”

“The situation is not good,” Chris says vaguely.

“Chris, please tell me what’s going on,” I beg. “And how Daddy found out about … about Saturday.”

“I’m not sure, Mia. The leak didn’t come from Molly or me. I can’t inquire too much, or someone else will find out. How did Molly coordinate with you?”

“We met for brunch and she texted me the room. We talked about it over the phone once or twice.”

“Has your phone been out of your possession?”

“No, of course not. Well, actually, yeah,” I say. “For cheer practice.”

He holds out his hand. I grudgingly hand over my phone.

“I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”

“You think someone did something to it?” I asked, surprised.

“It’s a possibility.”

He looks out the window. I sense there’s a lot he’s not saying. I fidget without my phone.

“You did well tonight,” he says. “I’ll deal with your father for the next few weeks. We have to prepare for the investigation to hit the papers, once they name Robert Connor.”

I nod. “Are you serious about pulling me out of school?”

“I’ve already called the school. You’ll finish out the school year online and with a tutor.”

“Sounds awesome,” I mutter. “Why did you ask them to wait until I’m eighteen, if Daddy’s not gonna kick me out?”

“I can’t guarantee he won’t,” Chris said, frustration in his voice. “Your mother is supporting you, but all he has to do is file a motion revealing her mental state is less than stable.”

“Oh.”

“We keep it quiet for two weeks, and then you’ll be eighteen and can decide for yourself.”

“Chris, why are you helping me?” I ask.

“Every once in awhile, I grow a conscience.”

His tone is serious. I want to laugh, but don’t. Before this summer, I never knew Chris was anything other than Daddy’s lackey.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch to you,” I tell him. “It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“You keep me on my toes.”

I snort. “I’m not cut out for the political life. I never understood it until my … incident. I never got that there are two faces to everyone around me. I never understood why I’m not like Molly or Mom.”

“You understand now?”

“Yeah. In two weeks, are you no longer my lawyer?”

“I’ll handle this until it’s through.”

“Just another issue, huh.”

He looks at me. His game face is still on. “You’re doing the right thing, Mia. Stay focused on getting through this. I’ll be right beside you.”

“That’s it,” I snap. I didn’t take Dom’s crap, and I’m not about to take Chris’s. “If you’re going to be someone I can trust, I need to know.”

He glances at me. I hold my breath, not about to back down. I, too, am a strong-willed Abbott-Renou, and tonight, I’m going to act like it.

“When you’re eighteen, we’ll talk about another well-kept family secret,” he says. “For now, just know this. When you made your choice to come forward, I, too, had to make a choice between supporting you and supporting Gerard. I love my brother, Mia, and I love you. It wasn’t easy for me, but I want to do the right thing, same as you. I want to be the person you deserve to have backing you.”

I’m amazed by his heartfelt words and touched to know that he, too, is choosing me. Weeks ago, I never felt more alone. Now, I wonder what I ever did to deserve having him, Dom and Ari in my life.

I’m so tired and sick of always crying, so I swallow my tears. I wonder briefly what the family secret is he’s talking about then decide I really don’t want to know what other horrible skeletons are in my family’s closet. I’ve had enough today.

“Stay out of trouble and the press. Go to school, go to cheer practice, go to your community service,” he instructs me, all-business again. “Don’t raise any suspicions, and don’t tell anyone about this, even Ari.”

“Okay,” I say.

“Shea’s working up a publicity package and damage control,” Chris says. “The Connors are going to know before the rest of the world.”

“It sounds like we’re planning a war.”

“Yeah. We are.”

I don’t like the way that sounds. I’m happy I have a place to live, at least until I’m eighteen.

When we get home, I break out my diary. I’m almost too tired to see straight, but I need to write down the one thought that keeps crossing my mind.