"Why?" I asked. "Of course he would try to find any angle he can."
"You haven't seen the news yet. Two other women have come forward to accuse Michael. I suspect there will be more in the next few days. He and his lawyers and his team of whoever-the-hell he hires will be busy with all of that. They aren't going to look too deep into you and Nixon."
"Is he going to get out on bail?"
"Probably. He has the money. It depends on the judge, but probably. Our justice system is notoriously awful at properly handling rapists and pedophiles. I will keep one or two guards on you until we're sure you're safe. He's going away, Reagan. It's just a matter of when. That's my cue," she said, standing, hearing the low timbre of a masculine voice outside the door. Likely the doctor checking in with the nurses. "I'll be in touch. Your lady from work is going to be here to pick you up."
Krissy.
It was going to be a long day.
And I felt like shit.
Lo dipped out just before the doctor stepped in, going over what she had already told me.
I was allowed to get up, and get myself ready for my departure.
And then the inevitable detectives appeared, getting my story. I gave it to them with as much honesty as they needed, leaving out the parts about the cameras and listening device, about Lo's guys.
When they ask, relax, Lo had coaxed me a few weeks before. They are never going to suspect you framed him. Answer honestly about the events. That is all they need.
Regardless of my intentions, he did what he did. He drugged me. He started to assault me. He committed a crime. I hadn't exactly forced his hand. I just put myself in his path. He'd done the rest.
By the time the detectives left, and Krissy came in, I was exhausted, crabby, ready to go home and shower, eat, climb into bed.
"Oh, Rae," Krissy said, sighing out her breath.
"I'm okay," I assured her, taking the bottle of water off my tray as I got to my feet. "It didn't get that far."
"Luis has been frantically calling me. He said your parents are beside themselves, talking about getting on a plane."
"Ugh," I grumbled, moving to the desk to sign my discharge papers.
"I think he managed to get them to agree to wait until they heard from you. I know things with them have been a little... tense." She didn't know why, but there was no mistaking the stiff tone I used with them on the phone.
"I will call Luis when I get home."
"Why don't you come home with me?" she asked, linking her arm through mine.
"You're sweet. I just... I want my own bed."
"And your man there to comfort you. I get it," she assured me, giving my arm a little squeeze. "I will just get you there, make sure you have everything you need. Then you can tell me to get lost if you want to be alone."
"You're a good friend, Krissy."
"I sure am... oh hey, look at you rocking those scrubs," she called to a passing male nurse, making a small smile tug at my lips. Krissy was Krissy even in a crisis. I decided I had never loved her more than I did right then.
She got me home as promised.
She picked me out an outfit while I showered.
She fed Mal.
She even scooped his box.
Then, sensing I was about done with company, she gave me a hug, begged me to call her if I needed anything, told me to take a few days off, that she had the office, and then excused herself, leaving me alone.
Except not exactly alone.
Because I knew Lo's guys were hanging around just waiting for her to leave so they could take up posts by my door.
"Jesus Christ, Reagan!" Luis's voice met my ear when I answered once my phone charged.
"I'm sorry. I was in the hospital. Then talking to the police. Then showering," I told him, filling up my fifth glass of water, still feeling bone dry inside.
"Are you okay? Did he... did..."
"No. He tried. He started. I was drugged. I couldn't fight him off. But... but people happened in. They stopped him."
"Fuck. Fuck."
"It's okay. I'm fine."
"You were right. And we all thought you were just grieving, but you were right about that fucking bastard."
I listened to him rant and apologize for the next ten minutes, then begged him to tell my parents that he had talked to me, but that I was worn out and wanted to rest, that I would call them as soon as I felt a little better.
Likely racked with guilt for not believing me before, he agreed, he said he would talk them off the ledge, would make sure they didn't show up on my doorstep and add more stress.