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I force myself to crack my eyes open and immediately close them again at the bright lights.
“Lights,” I hear myself moan.
“Hit the lights, Jaxon.” A couple seconds later, Mac says, “They’re off, Mia. Let me see your eyes, baby.”
I slit my eyes open a little and when the searing pain doesn’t come back, I open them more. My head still hurts, but not as badly with the lights dimmed.
“There’s my pretty girl.” I see Mac standing directly over me, gazing into my eyes. The concern I see in his eyes confuses me. What is he worried about? And why is my mind so hazy? The last thing I remember is going out with the girls and Andrew.
Wait! Where am I?
I look around and don’t recognize anything, but the room is white and sterile. It looks and smells like a hospital.
“Where…” I speak, but my mouth is too dry and it comes out scratchy.
Mac reaches over and grabs a plastic cup with a straw. He bends the straw down and slightly lifts my head so I can take a sip. I almost moan at the coolness rushing down my throat. Never has water tasted so good. After a couple more sips, I lie back and clear my throat.
“Where am I?” My voice is still scratchy and weak, but not as bad.
Mac looks up and across me. I follow his line of sight and see Jaxon on the other side of my bed. His gaze is just as worried as Mac’s. He takes a step closer and places his hand on my cheek, rubbing his finger across my cheek.
“What’s going on guys? You’re scaring me.” My voice is stronger, but my throat is still dry.
“What do you remember?” Mac’s question brings my gaze back to him.
I think for a minute before I reply, “Andrew, the girls, and I were at Lucki’s. I decided to take a break and went to the bar.”
I try to think harder for what happened next, but the pain in my head grows. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Mia,” Mac calls my name, but I ignore him, trying to remember. Slowly, snippets start appearing in my head. A guy at the bar was hitting on me before I almost broke his wrist. The guy beside me warned me about people slipping something in my drink. Me realizing I drank too much. The guy leading me to the dark hallway. Me being placed on the counter and my skirt riding up.Oh God!The pain of the guy shoving his fingers in me.
“Oh my God!” My eyes shoot open and focus on Mac. I feel sick to my stomach, and my hand flies to my mouth. I see Mac grab the trash can beside the bed just in time for me to lean over and lose the contents of my stomach. When I’m done, I lean back on the bed and close my eyes. The strain of vomitingdefinitely didn’t help my head. I feel a cool cloth being placed on my head. I open my eyes and see Mac. He helps me take another swallow of water.
“What do you remember?” Jaxon asks from the other side of the bed. I don’t look at him when I answer. I keep my eyes on Mac.
“Little bits here and there, but enough to know what happened,” I say quietly. The torment in Mac’s eyes confirms what I already know. What I don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to know, is how far it went.
“Did he…” I stop, the lump in my throat not allowing me to continue.
Luckily, Mac knows what I’m trying to ask. “We don’t know yet. We’re still waiting on the results. The doctor should be here any minute.”
I nod and turn my gaze away from Mac, not able to look at him anymore. Not because I’m ashamed of what happened, but because of my actions toward him all these years. Yes, it was stupid on my part for not paying attention to my drink, but I know it’s not my fault for what happened. What I can’t get over is the pain Mac must have felt after being violated like he was. I automatically jumped to the conclusion that he willingly gave himself up to Tessa, and then when he tried explaining to me what happened, I wouldn’t let him. He was, for all intents and purposes, raped, and he had no one. Yes, he had his parents and I’m sure they helped, but I never gave him the time of day when I should have been there for him. I was the one he should have been able to confide in. I was the one who was supposed to give comfort. I was the one who was supposed to stand by her man always. I was so caught up in my own pain that I never let myself think it could be anything other than what I saw, Mac and Tessa having sex. Yes, the visual evidence was damning, but I still can’t help but feel guilt for never listening to him. The first couple of months after that fateful night, Mac tried so many times to talk to me, but I always ran the other way when I saw him headed in my direction.
“Mia, look at me,” Mac says. When I bring my eyes back to him, he continues, “What are you thinking?”
I swallow to hold the tears at bay and shake my head. I’ll talk to him later when we’re alone. He looks like he wants to say something else but before he can, the door whooshes open, and an older man wearing a white coat walks in.
“Good to see you’re awake, Miss Walker. I’m Dr. Hughes. How are you feeling?” he asks with a kind smile, and holds out his hand for me to shake.
I try to smile back at him, but I’m sure it comes out wobbly. “My head is pounding, and I’m really tired.”
He nods and says, “That’s to be expected. The drugs are still in your system. We’ve given you an IV to try to help flush it out. You should start feeling better in the next few hours. I understand this young man is your brother,” he gestures to Jaxon, and then to Mac. “And this one is a close friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Before we continue, would you like them to leave?” he asks.
I look at Mac and Jaxon, who both have determination written on their faces. It doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere anytime soon.
