Dancing with the Devil (Ravens Ruin MC 3)

“Fuck my life,” the male officer huffs before standing and backing away.

“Give it a rest, McGee. Look at her. She can barely hold her head up. I told you she should’ve been taken by medical before she was brought here.”

If looks could kill, the female officer would be dead on the floor. Seems her counterpart doesn’t like to be corrected.

“Do you know, or have you had any prior encounters with Dean Smith, Edgar Romeo, or Chance Brown.”

My head shakes, but Officer McGee doesn’t seem impressed. There isn’t anything I could say right now to make him change his train of thought. I imagine the video evidence could be presented of someone else murdering those guys, and he’d still come after me.

My head shakes again, but the effort is no longer enough to keep the flashes from invading my vision.“Hey, gorgeous. I’m Max.” I look up at the frat boy I’d noticed earlier in the night. “You look thirsty.”

My hand trembles as I reach for the red, plastic cup. I know what happens after this, not from experience, but from stories I’ve heard and read about recently. I know it wasn’t vitamins I watched this guy pour into a cup very similar to this only moments ago.

“Thanks,” I say with a sweet smile before tilting the cup to my lips.“I don’t know any of them,” I explain when all McGee does is stare down at me. “I met a guy named Max downstairs.”

“Max wasn’t one of the victims.” McGee spits the words through clenched teeth. Clearly, he’s easily flustered, but I can’t tell them more because I don’t know any details. I’d never be able to explain that I suspected I’d end up in that room with those guys.

The possibilities send a jolt of unease up my spine. Drugged and taken advantage of by Max was a self-destructive bitter pill to swallow, but knowing there were at least three guys up there is a horror I don’t want to consider.

McGee looks over his shoulder at his partner, and I see the slight shake of her head.

“Can you go check on that lead?”

The female cop shakes her head again. “Let’s get Ms. Stewart to the hospital for an examination, and then I’ll be free to follow-up.”

I mouth a thank you to her while McGee is still staring at her. She’s refusing to leave me alone in the room with him, and I’m beyond grateful for that.

“Send her in a cab,” McGee huffs when the officer holds a hand out, indicating for me to stand and follow her.

“I’m taking her. We need to know the results of the rape kit.”

“Rape?” McGee huffs with incredulity.

His eyes sweep up and down my body. I shiver at the perusal, even though the blanket on my shoulders is wrapped tight and touching my knees. I’m naked underneath, but it feels as if he has x-ray vision and can see straight down to my soul.

“Those boys are dead, murdered in cold blood,” McGee says to his partner, his rotund body blocking my path to the door. “And no matter what the exam results are, this department isn’t going to taint their memories.”

“Give it a rest, McGee.”

I slide past both of them and wait in the hall for the female officer. It takes several long minutes before their whispered, yet heated argument comes to an end.

“I’m Detective Abigail Martin.”

She doesn’t bother holding her hand out to shake because she’s well aware that my hands are tangled in the blanket.

“I wish we had some clothes here at the station.”

I watch her back as she begins to walk down the corridor, unsure of where she’s leading me. She’s acting nice right now, but I’m sure it’s a ploy, just another part of the good cop, bad cop skit she and her partner have perfected over the years.

“Follow me, please,” she says over her shoulder when she realizes I’m not following her.

The walk to her car is short and filled with a heavy silence.

“McGee is a dick,” she mutters as we close ourselves into the car.

“That’s not going to work with me,” I advise as I struggle to clip my seatbelt over the blanket without having to expose any part of my skin.

She sighs, nodding at the same time, and I can’t tell if she finally understands that she isn’t going to get anything out of me, or if she understands that I’d never trust her. Either way suits me.

“Can you just take me home?”

“You need to be seen at the hospital.” The sound of her blinker echoes in the silence. “Don’t let what McGee said back there keep you from finding out what happened in that room tonight.”

“It doesn’t matter.” My eyes are trained on the darkness outside the window.

At a red light, I can hear more than see her shift her weight in her seat.