Trust Me (30 page)

In less than a minute, a doctor and two nurses arrive. The doctor is a middle-aged man with graying brown hair. He’s physically fit and has kind eyes.

“Good evening, Allison. I am Dr. Ferguson, your personal physician. Do you remember what occurred last night?”

Sam grabs my hand.

Again, I try to reach into that black hole and grab anything. “I was at a party with Sam, and then it all goes blank.”

Sam starts to sob beside me. I squeeze her hand with what little strength I have. When I glance over at Damien, I can see his neck muscles are twitching with tension.

As the doctor reads the papers coming out of the machine beside me, he asks, “How do you feel?”

Automatically, I respond with what comes to mind. “My head hurts…my body feels really heavy…my stomach hurts…I think that’s all, but I’m really confused. What happened?”

“That’s to be expected. I want you to keep your eyes open and follow my finger.”

I do as I am told.

“Now, look into the light.”

I do as I am told.

“I am going to test some of your reflexes.”

I sit there, and my body seems to react appropriately when different spots are hit with that mallet thing.

No one is telling me anything, and not knowing why I’m in the hospital is making me more and more anxious by the second. “Please…someone tell me what happened.”

Damien goes to speak, but the doctor beats him to the punch. I have no doubt that his years of training are kicking in. He knows to give the patient an explanation in a straight and factual manner without attaching any emotions. It’s probably what I need at this point.

“You were given a drug called Rohypnol, which causes memory loss, confusion, and abnormal sight. That is why you do not remember what happened. There were no signs of sexual assault. All of your head scans have come back normal. It appears you sustained one or more heavy blows to the face. You have been out for approximately twenty-four hours, which is to be expected. Withdrawal from Rohypnol is the most critical during the first twenty-four hours. So far, you have not experienced any adverse effects from it. With that being said, we will still need to keep you under observation for the next two to three days to ensure there are no lingering side effects.”

I am stunned into silence.
I was drugged? How did I let something like that happen?
I need some answers. “Do we know who drugged me?”

Damien is the next to speak. “She would like some water. If she is allowed to eat any food, please order her some. I would prefer non-hospital food for Alli. You should have the number to call to make such requests from my staff.”

Dr. Ferguson nods and turns to the nurses. “Keep it simple. Broth for now.”

They respond in unison, “Yes, sir,” and leave the room.

There are so many words swimming in my head with no explanation.
Drugged…sexual assault…withdrawals…blows to the face.

Who did this to me?

One of the nurses arrives with a drinking container and straw.
Thank goodness.
My throat is so scratchy that it hurts to talk.

“Miss Scott, I’m Nurse Tina. Here’s some water for you. Please take slow sips to begin with, so your stomach can get used to having something in it. I’ll be stationed right outside your door if you need me. Your soup has been ordered from the restaurant, and it is on the way. It should be here within thirty minutes.”

I take a small sip. The liquid relief is heaven. “Thank you.”

She smiles and makes her departure.

Now, I need answers.
I turn to look at Damien first and then Sam. “You guys, please tell me what happened. I know what the doctor said, but I’m starting to freak out.” When my voice wavers at the end, that beeping noise starts to increase. It must be my heart rate monitor.

Sam bursts into more tears. It’s unnerving to see Sam like this. She is normally so controlled. Barely able to speak through her sobs, she says, “I’m so sorry, Allison. I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, don’t cry. I don’t know what happened, but I know you didn’t hurt me.” I put my hand back on hers and squeeze.

When I look over at Damien, I can tell he hates how Sam is feeling this way, but he hasn’t tried to ease her guilt at all.
He must blame her for something.

With one hand still holding mine, Damien’s other hand runs over the stubble on his face. “Sam, let’s just walk Alli through everything. You can’t blame yourself for what that fucked-up, sick bastard did.”

The way they’re acting toward each other tells me something happened between them, too. He stands, pulls up a chair for Sam, and resumes his position in his chair right next to me. He starts rubbing soothing circles again on my hand. I need this contact with him, and he knows it.

He looks at me, giving me his full attention. “Baby, what is the absolute last memory you have of last night? That way, I know where to begin.”

I think about it, but all I have are fuzzy memories. Something starts to take shape, and I grab it and focus. “There was a fight in the kitchen between two guys, I think.”

Sam nods her head. The tears have stopped, but her body is still recovering from all her crying.

Damien dips his head slightly in acknowledgment and takes a deep breath. I’ve never seen him this shaken.

“The two who fought in the kitchen have confessed to their part in this after they realized the wrath of hell they were about to receive. They still will to some extent. Fucking assholes.” His face is absolutely menacing. “That fight is when they switched your drink out for a drugged beer. After some guy figured out I wasn’t there, the fight was staged just so that could happen.”

Another memory comes to the forefront. “There was a drunk guy who asked me about you, I think.”

Sam nods, confirming my statement.

Damien’s jaw clenches. “After the fight, you went up to the bedroom to use the bathroom. We aren’t sure what happened while you were in there because Brad refuses to speak. He has lawyered up.”

My mind feels jumbled.
“Brad did this?” I cannot believe he did this. He hasn’t said a word to me in months.

Damien looks at me. “Yes, he came out of the room while I was with you in the hallway. From the bruises that have appeared since the attack, we assume he hit you pretty hard on the head.”

My hand automatically goes to my face, and Damien’s fingers gently brush one of the bruises. His touch is tender, but his eyes are filled with pure fury.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Police custody at the moment. I nearly fucking killed him when he came out of the room. He was shirtless with his pants unbuttoned. We found one piece of ripped clothing in the room, but other than that, it doesn’t appear he touched you anywhere except your face. Thank God.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

This is taking a toll on him. His imagination has probably been running wild, thinking about what went down in that room.

“Did you get to the party earlier than expected?”

He continues, “I started to come home as soon as I knew you were going to be at the party. I was landing when you sent the last text. I tried to call you immediately, but your phone was dead. When I called the house phone, no one was coherent enough to get me through to you. I made it to the house in record time. After Sam told me where you were, I tore through the house to make sure you were safe, and I found you coming out of her room, barely able to walk and talk. You told me Brad had drugged you, and then you passed out.”

I shudder as I think about what could have happened. Damien’s free hand is gripped so tightly that his knuckles are white against his tanned skin. While grinding his teeth together, his jaw is drawn to the point that it’s about to snap. His blue eyes are on fire with irritation.

Part of me is glad that I don’t remember the encounter, and the other part of me feels so violated to have something like that taken from me. I never thought something like this could happen to me, but it did.

Sam goes to stand up from her seat beside me, and I give her a questioning look. I still feel so disconnected from everything right now. It’s almost as if I’m in a dream.

“I’m going to give you guys some alone time. You need it. I hope you know how much I love you, Allison.”

I lift my arms for a hug, and she obliges.
My poor best friend is unnecessarily blaming herself for this.
“Sam, it’s not your fault. Go get some sleep. I love you, too. Will you come by tomorrow, so we can talk when I’m not so out of it?”

She nods and gives me another squeeze before she starts to leave the room.

As she’s heading for the door, Damien says, “There’s a car waiting for you to take you back.”

With her head hanging down, she responds, “Thank you,” and then she disappears into the hallway.

I need some alone time with her soon to make sure she’s not punishing herself for all of this.

“Damien—”

He cuts me off with a kiss on my lips. It’s gentle but possessive at the same time. My face must look horrendous because he’s not grabbing it like he usually would when he needs to show me that I’m his.

Pulling away, he whispers against my lips, “Baby, over these last twenty-four hours, I have said so many prayers, asking God for you to be okay. You could have died. I can barely keep it together when I think about what that fucking idiot did to you. I love you, Alli.”

A tear slides down my cheek from the pain I hear in his voice. “I love you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

“Baby, all that matters is that you’re okay.”

The severity of the situation is going to hit me eventually. I think my brain has just distanced itself from my emotions to keep me going while I recover. It’s just hard to reconcile my mind with something I have no memory of.

The nurse enters, carrying a tray. “Miss Scott, your dinner has arrived. It’s chicken broth with tiny bread dumplings. Eat slowly.” She lays the tray in front of me, and it smells heavenly. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.”

She leaves, and I take my first bite. It’s the best thing I have ever had in my life. I’m so hungry. Damien watches in appreciation as I finish it off.

After my last bite, Ben comes into the room, and he looks at me with sympathy. “Good evening, Miss Scott. I am glad you are doing better. Is there anything else you need?”

It’s odd seeing Ben in jeans and a T-shirt. He always wears suits.

“No, Ben, thank you for your help.” I say as I give him the best smile I can manage at this point.

“No problem, and you’re welcome.” He turns to Damien. “Sir, the requested items from your home have been packed in this bag. If there is nothing further, I am going to retire for the evening, but I will be on standby if anything else should arise.”

As Ben lays the bag down at the foot of the bed, Damien says, “That’s all, Ben. Thanks for your help.”

Damien removes the tray and pushes the button to start reclining the bed.
It’s nice that we’re alone finally.

“Why don’t you get some sleep? I’m sure your body is exhausted,” he says.

“Will you lie down with me?”

“Alli, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You need the rest.”

Pleadingly, I respond, “I sleep better with you beside me. Please.”

He’s so torn, but the moment he pulls off his shoes, I know I have my answer. He needs to be close to me as much I do him.

Lying beside me, he gently envelops me in an embrace. I snuggle into him as best as I can, and then I begin to drift off to sleep.

Right before I go under, listening to the sound of his breathing, Damien says, “I love you, Alli. I’ll thank God every day for the rest of my life for not taking you.”

A squeezing sensation around my arm causes me to stir and open my eyes. Nurse Tina is taking my blood pressure. I look around the room and notice that Damien is gone.

“Where’s Damien?” My voice is dry.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She automatically hands me my cup with straw. She moves to the monitors and pushes some buttons. “Mr. Wales needed to make a phone call, so he stepped outside. As soon as we get you situated, we’ll let him know you’re awake. How are you feeling this morning, Miss Scott?”