“I want to ask if you’re okay.” Emmy. “But you have a black eye and stitches in your head so…” Poor Emmy—the tears she wiped away kept coming.
Tig’s warning. About Emmy. And Travis. If she did this, there would be no turning back. How could she? Because of Becca—and who knows how many others. Because someone needed to stand up for them. She only hoped her family would support her.
Sawyer stood, silent as always, watching her. What would have happened if he hadn’t been there? That was a dangerous question. He had been there. And he’d stopped…everything. His nod was stiff, nostrils flared and jaw clenching tight.
“Krystal.” Her father spoke up. “The police have some questions for you.”
Questions that had big, life-altering answers for every single person in this room. Questions that should have been asked, and answered, ten years ago. “Okay.” Her fingers pleated the thin white sheets covering her legs.
“Give her a minute.” The female officer held her hand up. “There’s no rush here.”
Two men and one woman. Police officers in full police officer uniforms. Because calling the police was the right thing to do when someone is attacked. A flash of his hand on her mouth streaked across her mind. Her stomach clenched tight, bile rising up in her throat.
“Where are we?” The answer was obvious but the question came out anyway.
“You’re in the hospital.” Emmy sat on the side of her bed, taking her hand.
Because she was hurt. Black eye and stitches? That’s what Emmy had said. Which matched with the slamming pulse in her face and eye. She didn’t feel much in her head—probably shot up with something to numb her for the stitches. She was drained, like after one of her marathon workouts. Wrung out.
Because of Tig… Another flash. Him over her, being pinned on the floor. Her heart rate picked up. Thanks to the monitor she was hooked up to, everyone knew it, too. The rapid beeping had one of the policemen staring at the monitor with concern. For some reason, she wanted to giggle. Since that probably wouldn’t be okay, she pressed a hand to her mouth. Which reminded her of her face. The pulse throbbing in her cheek and eye.
“It’s okay.” Emmy smoothed her sheets, not in the least okay. Her sister’s lower lip was quivering and she was sniffing, doing her best not to fall apart completely.
Would it be? Would it ever really be okay again?
Yes. It would.
Sawyer was fidgeting. The man she’d begun to think of as more robot than human was shifting from one foot to the next, looking…out of sorts. He was never out of sorts. His master poker face was failing. Big-time. It was unnerving as hell.
“He called the ambulance.” Emmy’s words made it ten times worse.
“Ambulance?” She closed her eyes and hissed, reaching up to touch her face, but that hurt, too. “Dammit.”
“You think you can answer some questions?” Her father stood at the foot of her bed.
She stared at the three strangers, then her family. “Probably best if I do this alone.”
Travis shook his head, his face turning a dark red.
“I’d like to stay,” Emmy whispered, her hand tightening on hers.
“Emmy.” She blew out a deep breath. How could she protect her sister now? The truth was going to come out. It had to. “I can’t sugarcoat this. Can’t make this easy.” She swallowed. “I can do this on my own.”
“I know.” Her sister’s gaze locked with hers. “But you shouldn’t have to. We all want to be here for you.”
Words were the easy part. It was after they were said that things changed—when the actual words faded but their impact remained. “Are you sure?”
Emmy nodded.
“We’re all sure.” Her father’s blue gaze searched hers.
Fine. There’s no way to hide it this time. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
“I’m Officer Washington. That’s Officer Cruz and Officer Ramos.” Officer Washington stepped closer to the bed, her dark brown eyes sweeping over Krystal’s face. Her attention lingered, briefly, on Krystal’s eye. “First, we’d like to do a rape kit. Check for DNA samples under your nails, swab inside your mouth—”
“Fuck,” Travis growled.
“I wasn’t raped.” Krystal shot her brother a look. “But I’m okay with you checking for samples. You’ll need that, won’t you? For a restraining order?”