No. She couldn’t let her mind go there.
Ren had said this could be more than one night, that tonight was to see where things went. But she had no idea what they were feeling, and more than one night didn’t mean a relationship. It simply meant more sex. And she couldn’t pretend that anything more than that wouldn’t be enormously complicated.
With a frown, she got to her feet and hunted down something to wear. She found one of Ren’s dress shirts draped over a chair and slipped it on. Her stomach rolled.
Blech. She needed crackers and something fizzy. Stat. She was making herself sick with all her swirling thoughts.
Working hard not to bump into anything in the dark, she made her way down the hallway and into the kitchen. The place looked like the aftermath of a drunken striptease. Her clothes were strewn on the floor, her panties hooked under the leg of a chair at the dining table. There were smudge marks all over the table from grappling hands and naked bodies. She wondered if the guys had a maid service. What was the charge to remove butt prints? That made her snort. The maid would be in for quite a scene.
Cora opened the stainless steel fridge in search of soda but all that was in there was bottled water, a few beers, and orange juice. Her stomach staged a protest at even the thought of orange juice and she pressed her fingers against her lips. No bueno.
She grabbed a bottle of water and shut the fridge. But when she turned around, she spotted the cup from the bar, sitting on a table by the side door. It would be watered down by now but may be enough to do the trick. She set down the bottled water and went for the drink. The insulated cup had kept some of the ice from melting and the fizz was just what she needed. She took off the top and drank a few big gulps.
The carbonation seemed to start its magic almost instantly, and after snagging a few saltines from their pantry and finishing the drink, she went back to bed. The guys were still fast asleep, Ren snoring lightly. She carefully climbed back between them and tucked herself under the covers. Hayes automatically threw his arm over her and snuggled against her.
She smiled, settling into the warm place between them, and closed her eyes, deciding that she would just enjoy the moment and leave the hard thoughts for tomorrow.
But a little while later, when she shifted slightly to adjust her position, something in her equilibrium flipped over and the bed felt like it tipped sideways beneath her. Whoa. Her eyes popped open, but a wave of dizziness hit her. She groaned, the room listing in her vision. Her fingers gripped the comforter.
Something was wrong. This was . . . Things didn’t feel right. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the wave of vertigo, but that only made it worse. She reached out blindly for Ren, attempting to alert him, but her arm wouldn’t cooperate. Everything felt slow, drunk. Out of her control.
Panic tried to rise in her, alarm bells sounding, but she wasn’t able to hold on to the thought long enough to take action. Her lips parted, her voice trying to form a protest, but nothing came out.
She was just so dizzy and . . . sleepy.
Her eyes fell shut. The world went black.
And the guys never knew a thing.
TWENTY-FIVE
Boom. Boom. Boom. The thumping sound filled Hayes’s dream. A cop was hitting the prison bars right next to his head, trying to wake him up. He had his hand over his ears and was yelling at them to quit. But the banging wouldn’t stop. Boom! Boom!
Hayes’s eyes popped open, and he blinked into the darkness, coming out of the dream with blurred awareness. For a second, he couldn’t place where he was, but when one of Ren’s drawings came into view in a shaft of moonlight from the window, his head cleared. Cora’s warm body was tucked beneath his arm, their legs fused together with a sheen of sweat. But she was still asleep. The banging started up again, and Ren rolled over to face him, mumbling, “What the fuck?”
“The door. Someone’s knocking on the door,” Hayes said, peeling away from Cora and glancing at the bedside clock. Three thirty in the morning.
Ren eyes opened at that. “What? It’s the middle of the night.”
The knocking came again along with a muffled voice. Hayes sat up and got out of bed in search of his jeans. “I’ll go see what’s going on. Stay here with her.”
Cora seemed deep in sleep, her body rising and falling with slow breaths, her hair damp with sweat.
Ren pushed up on his elbow. “Be careful. If anything looks suspicious, call the police. There was a break-in down the street a few weeks ago.”
Hayes gave a nod, but unease was curling in his gut. Late-night phone calls were bad enough. Late-night knocks were worse. He tugged on his jeans and strode down the hallway. The heavy thudding knocks started up again as he made his way to the front door. He was just leaning down to peek through the peephole when the voice on the other side shouted, “Police, open up.”
Police. That sense of dread he’d had over the knocking jumped straight to all-out fight-or-flight. Hayes had never wanted to hear those words again. They’d preceded his arrest all those years ago. But before he gave in to the panic, he reminded himself that in the normal world, police were coming to help or to check on something. Maybe there was a gas leak in the neighborhood or another break-in. Maybe someone had seen something outside the house. Hayes took a deep breath and opened the door.
The two cops on the other side seemed surprised to have the door finally open. The male half of the pair put a hand on his holster, like he expected Hayes to leap at him.
Hayes supposed he looked like a threat, standing there shirtless and wild-haired and taller than the two of them by half a foot. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Hayes Fox?” the female cop asked, her voice hard.
The words punched at Hayes. He tried to remain calm, tried not to jump to conclusions or panic. “I am. Is there a problem?”
“Do you have a young woman inside your home right now?” the male cop asked, trying to see past Hayes’s shoulder.
Hayes’s jaw tightened. He wanted to ask them what the hell business it was of theirs, but he’d learned in prison that mouthing off to cops got you nowhere good. “Can I ask what’s going on? Why are you here?”
“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to step aside and let us come in to check to make sure everything’s okay,” the female cop said, flashing her badge at him.
“What?” A sick feeling was creeping through Hayes. “Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Sir, someone who recognized you from the papers called in a report that they saw you earlier tonight at Bar None and that you slipped something into a young lady’s drink and then left with her. We need to come in and make sure that everything is okay.”
Hayes’s blood turned to ice.
“What’s going on?” Ren said from somewhere behind him.
“Sir, stay where you are,” the male cop said to Ren, his voice loud and hard, like he’d been practicing that particular tone by watching too many cop dramas on TV. “We need you both to move aside and let us come in.”
Hayes knew there was nothing he could do to stop them. They didn’t need a search warrant if they thought someone was in immediate danger. He backed away, everything going in slow motion in his head as he processed what they’d said.
Ren looked to him, eyes wide. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Someone said they saw me drug Cora at the bar,” he said flatly.
“Is that her name?” the female cop said sharply. “Are you admitting you drugged her?”
“Of course he didn’t drug her!” Ren said, his temper and fear rising to the surface. He stared at Hayes, his skin going ashen.
“I need you to calm down, sir. I didn’t ask you the question,” she said, holding up a hand to Ren and looking to Hayes.
“I didn’t drug her,” Hayes said, his hands starting to shake. “She’s in the back bedroom, sleeping.”
> “Stay here with them, Crandall,” the female cop said to her partner. “I’ll go check on her.”
Officer Crandall gave a quick nod, hand still hovering over his belt, keeping all of his tools of the trade within reach as he eyed Hayes and Ren. “Gentlemen, I need you to take a seat on the couch, hands on your lap where I can see them.”
Ren looked like he was going to protest, but Hayes gave him a quick shake of his head. Ren let out a breath and followed Hayes to the couch. Hayes sat there, his mind going into some shut-down mode. He hadn’t drugged Cora. But deep in his bones, he knew that wouldn’t matter. It was happening again.
He’d let his guard down, and he’d lost the chess match again.
“It’s going to be okay,” Ren said firmly. “We didn’t do anything. Cora will tell them.”
Hayes wanted to believe that was true. But he couldn’t fight that feeling of inevitability. Just like that movie, he’d escaped his plane crash, but fate wasn’t going to let him get away with it. This was part of some plan, some puppeteer running a long game. And he wasn’t going to stop. He wasn’t going to leave Hayes alone.
Hayes bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting that despair sink in.
But soon his own fate was forgotten when he heard the female cop’s voice from the back of the house, calling Cora’s name. Hayes head snapped upward, expecting Cora to come running out from the hallway, pissed as hell at the questions.
But Cora didn’t come out of the hallway. And he didn’t hear her voice.
“What’s wrong?” Ren asked, his voice going tight and body tense.
But there was no answer. All they could hear was the cop calling for an ambulance on her radio.
That’s when everything shifted. A new kind of fear filled Hayes. Not fear of what was going to happen to him. He already knew how that would go. But a to-his-marrow terror that something had happened to her. Cora. Cora, who had been curled in his arms only a few minutes before. Cora, who had belly-laughed on their bed after they’d all made love. Cora, who he’d told he’d keep safe tonight.
He jumped up from the couch, adrenaline and a single-minded need to see her filling him. “He asked you what’s wrong?”
The cop went on alert. “Sir, I need you to sit down.”
“No, tell us she’s okay.” He stepped forward. “Let me see her—”
But that was the last he got out. The sudden movement had snapped the cop into action. In one quick second, the Taser was off his belt and aimed. Pain like Hayes had never felt lit him up and he went to the ground like a felled tree, his knees landing hard and his body jerking.
He only vaguely registered the female cop still calling Cora’s name. And Ren calling his. Then he was on the ground, unable to move, and cuffs were being put on him.
Cuffs went on Ren, too.
And after only a few months of freedom, Hayes was back in a cop car on his way to the station, where he was going to be charged with rape.
TWENTY-SIX
Boom. Boom. Boom. Cora winced. Someone was punching her in the head. That had to be what was happening because she couldn’t open her eyes for the sharp pain pounding through her skull. She groaned, wishing that whoever it was would just knock her the fuck out.
Stop.
“Coraline? Can you hear me?”
Don’t call me Coraline. No one got to call her that except her mother. But the words came out as a mumble.
A warm hand pressed over her arm and squeezed. “Sweetheart, can you try to open your eyes? Please. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here.”
Mom? The thought registered, cleared a little of the fog. What the hell was her mom doing here in her bed? Cora tried to lift her hand to her head, anything to stop the pounding, but her fingers got tangled in something.
“Easy, baby. They’ve got you hooked up to a few things.”
Hooked up to a few things? Cora attempted to open her eyes, but the bright white light that broke through her vision was like an ice pick to her eye sockets. “Shit. Bright.”
Her voice was sticky in her throat. Clogged.
There was a flicking sound and the lights went down. “Sorry. Is that better?”
Her mom’s hand returned to Cora’s arm. Cora cracked her eyelids open again, finding a softer, dimmer level of light. She blinked, trying to adjust and breathe through the pounding headache and the wave of nausea. God, what the hell had happened?
Worst. Hangover. Ever.
Her vision cleared, the woman leaning over her coming into view. Her mom, bare-faced and in street clothes, eyes red-rimmed. She gave a brief, tense smile. “There you are.”
Cora blinked a few more times, trying to figure out where she was and why her mom was here. “What’s going on?”
“You’re okay,” she said again, voice a little quivery. “You’re at the hospital. But you’re going to be all right.”
That thought arrowed right through the hazy state in her brain. Her muscles stiffened. “Hospital?” She glanced around, now recognizing the bare, clinical walls, the machine she was attached to, the thin sheets against her skin. Panic started to creep in. “What happened?”
Janet sat on the edge of the bed and offered Cora a little paper cup of water.
Cora pushed herself up on the pillows and sipped, the ice water harsh against her dry throat but welcome.
Once Cora had taken another swallow, the lines around her mother’s eyes deepened. “Do you remember anything, sweetheart? I know you’re groggy, but try to think. It’s Sunday. Do you remember anything about yesterday?”
Cora frowned, her brain trying to connect thoughts, make sense of the world in which she’d awakened. It was Sunday. What had she done yesterday? Her head was pounding too hard to concentrate. “I’m not sure. I think I cleaned house yesterday morning? Can’t you just tell me? Did I crash my car or something?”
She was starting to get nervous. Janet Benning was nothing if not straightforward. Why was she questioning her instead of just telling her?
“I . . .” Her mom considered her and then let out a resigned sigh. “Do you remember going out to a club last night?”
“A club?” At that, pictures flashed in Cora’s brain. Her friends at the table. Lines of tequila shots in front of them. Dancing. “Oh God, did I drink too much? Is that why I’m here?”
Something flickered through her mom’s eyes—pain. “Coraline . . .”
That sent true fear rushing through Cora. Her mom was as tough as they came. The fact that she looked to be bracing for something sent Cora’s stomach flipping over. “Mom, tell me what’s going on. Now.”
Janet took Cora’s hand and pressed it between hers. For a second, her eyes went shiny like she was going to cry, but then she pulled it back and took a breath. “Honey, last night someone drugged your drink.”
“What?”
“We have the two men in custody, baby.” She pressed her lips together as if trying to maintain her composure and shook her head. “And I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but we found you at their house. We’re not sure what happened, but we’re pretty sure they . . . took advantage of you.”
Everything left in Cora’s stomach threatened to come up. She’d been drugged. Raped?
The idea terrified her to her core, but as the words settled over her, worked their way through the fog in her brain, they didn’t seem to make sense. For some reason, they didn’t feel like truth. She could feel the aches in her body, but something was off.
Her mom was talking again but Cora had closed her eyes, trying to make sense of it, trying to grab on to memories. Parts of her day were coming back to her like torn pieces of photographs blowing in a breeze. She grasped for them.
She’d gotten up to clean the house. She’d had a lazy day, but she’d been excited. She’d danced around the house to music while vacuuming. What had she
been so excited about?
She played through the scenes in her head, trying to fill in the blank spots. In her head, she could see herself cleaning, pulling out her clothes. Nice clothes.
Date clothes.
“I had a date,” she blurted.
She opened her eyes and found her mom had been talking and tears were now officially in her eyes. Janet stopped whatever she’d been saying and blinked. “You remember?”
“Yes.” She pressed a hand to her forehead, rubbed. She’d had a date. With Ren. And Hayes. Two men. Oh, shit. She looked at her mom. “Wait, are the men you arrested Ren and Hayes?”
Her mother’s expression hardened. “They won’t ever bother you again, baby. I swear to you—”
“Oh, God. No. They didn’t.” Shit. Shit. Shit. “They wouldn’t—”
Her mom’s eyes turned empathetic. “I’m sorry, honey. I know you were working with them. I’m sure you would’ve never suspected. But you don’t know people. And Hayes Fox has a history—”
Oh, no. Oh, fuck. Cora sat up taller, trying to get the pounding in her head to subside enough so that she could make sense to her mother. “No, Mom. No. They wouldn’t have done this. I—”
Ugh. How was she supposed to say what she needed to say to her mother?
“Cora, you’re confused and probably in some sort of shock and the drugs—”
“No,” she said more firmly, cutting her off. “I’m not in shock. I remember. I went home with Hayes and Fox. Of my own free will. I—I was out with both of them.”
Her mom blinked like Cora had clapped in front of her face. Then her stunned expression smoothed into a firm one. “Coraline, I don’t know what you think you know, but you tested positive for a date rape drug. And the officers found a cup at the house from the bar that had traces of the drug.”
Cora shook her head. That didn’t make any sense. But her memory was in patches. She had a big black spot in it. She remembered getting to Hayes and Ren’s place. She remembered kissing in the kitchen. They’d ended up in the bedroom. They’d had amazing sex. Some of the details were fuzzy but she remembered that much.