I hung up feeling as exhausted as I had claimed to be.
The knock on the door nearly made me shoot out of my skin.
It was right then that I realized that as much as I had prepared, as ready as I thought I had been, that Nixon was right. This had an impact, despite having known what was going to happen, despite willingly going along with the plan.
"Yeah?" I called, unable to force my foot to move forward.
Rationally, I knew I was safe. I had seen Lo's people there. I knew they had guns. I had even seen Lo's van parked out front, more men and women hiding inside there. Hell, knowing Lo, there were probably pinhole cameras all over the building already to keep an eye on any possible threats.
But there was no rationalizing with fear.
So when the door slipped open, my stomach plummeted for a long second.
Before I realized who was standing there.
Nixon.FOURTEENNixonIt was an excruciating fucking night.
Generally speaking, most people would never call me an irrational or violent person.
But then I'd gotten the call telling me that Reagan had been drugged, that they hadn't realized until things had progressed further than they planned.
In that moment, rage and fear combined into a lethal cocktail in my system, the combustible kind.
And I fucking exploded.
Thank God the guard closest to me when Lo told me the news was a man, because I don't think I would have forgiven myself if I had attacked a woman in my attempt to get away, to get to her.
I ended up with a black eye for my efforts, overestimating my training, and woefully underestimating Lo's guard's.
Reinforcements had been called in.
Then Kingston had been called in.
I guess they thought he would be able to rationalize with me.
But he sat with me, waiting, knowing there was nothing that could have calmed him down if it was Savvy he was being kept away from.
Minutes stretched to an hour.
Lo's guards were getting filled in, but they were keeping it from me.
Finally, a phone was passed to me, and I was given details about her condition.
She was safe.
Stable.
But alone.
Her brother wasn't around.
Her parents weren't around.
I wasn't allowed to go.
She'd been through an ordeal, and she was alone when I knew she would need me the most.
It was after fucking noon the following day when they finally told me I could go.
I wasn't really even conscious of the drive.
One minute, I was in my house with guards. The next, I was standing at her door, flanked by more guards.
Luckily, though, they let me in, likely having orders from Lo to leave us be for the time being.
In I walked.
And there she was.
No bruises.
No physical damage.
But it was there in her eyes.
A crack that hadn't been there before.
I was across the apartment in five strides, catching her as she crumbled against me, clung to me.
Sobbing.
Like she had done several times since that incident at the Mallick's house that felt like a lifetime ago already.
I had a feeling this was different, though.
This was a mix of her grief, yes, and the fear she'd felt the night before, the anxiety of feeling so out of control. But it was more than that. I sensed there was relief underneath it all too.
That it was finally going to be over.
That she could put this one part of her life to rest.
That she had gotten her justice.
That she exposed a rapist to the public eye.
That she had proven herself to her family.
That she could take new steps toward a life of more complete healing.
The weight she'd been carrying around on her shoulders was falling away. Finally. Giving her the freedom she so desperately deserved.
"Talk to me," I demanded into her hair when she went silent, when she kept clinging to me.
"I don't know what to say."
"Whatever you want to say. How you're feeling. Something."
"He drugged me," she told me, voice small.
"I know, babe. I know he did."
"He drugged Sammy."
"It seems likely."
'She felt like I felt last night. Worse."
"Yeah."
"He's done it to other girls."
"I saw that." Three women and counting so far. A serial rapist. Our criminal justice system didn't have a fitting punishment for the damage he had done.
"If we hadn't done this, they might never have come forward. He might have kept on doing this."
"You," I corrected. "You did this. You got justice for them and for your sister."
"I have big chunks of time missing from last night," she told me, and I had suspected as much as soon as Lo told me she'd been drugged.
Somehow, I thought that might have been worse. The not knowing. Even if Reagan did know how far it had gone because of the people who had been there.
"Lo and her team can fill them in," I assured her. At least most of them.
"I'm going to have to call my parents."