“Can I talk to you?” I asked.
“Sure.” He rubbed a hand over his face. Dark shadows etched under his eyes, and I felt guilty for my earlier doubt. Not that I was convinced he’d done nothing wrong, but he’d also done plenty right. And at the time he’d been little more than a stranger.
Colin resettled in the corner of the sofa, his arm out. I closed the door behind me and joined him, curling into his side. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in tight.
I could have this forever. All I had to do was wait, the perfect, placid little girlfriend, for Colin to solve my problems. Let him control me—trust he wouldn’t betray me.
But what would the cost be if I was wrong? If he was?
And Bailey would be the one to pay.
“I’m going to talk to Andrew,” I said.
My words kicked him into standing.
“No,” he said, sounding exactly like I did when Bailey shoved peas up her nose.
I tried to remain calm. “It’s not up to you. He’s my…”
“Rapist?” he scoffed.
That stung. “My friend.”
“And what am I?” he said.
“You’re my…lover.” My voice broke.
He raised an eyebrow. Is that all?
“Well, what are you, then?” Calm was over. His silence infuriated me. “What do you want to be? I don’t even know, because you won’t…fucking…talk!”
He glared at me. Then a flicker—a small, reluctant smile cracked.
I laugh-cried back at him. Goddamned, fucking, adorable man.
It wasn’t just about trust. Living here, I’d started having little daydreams about what it would be like to stay. There wasn’t an exit date planned, not that I knew of, but this was hardly a permanent arrangement. Maybe I wanted it to be.
But if I was going to be worthy of that, I’d have to handle my own shit. Whether Colin liked it or not.
“I have to do this. For Bailey and for myself.” I pulled out my trump card. “Would you let Philip handle it if someone hurt you?”
His eyes flashed. That was all. Just a small visual sign, but I felt the jolt through his body. Maybe I’d hit a little too hard.
“Actually,” he said. “Laramie found a loophole.”
Heh, Laramie the lawyer found a loop—and then the meaning of the words registered. Relief was there, but I didn’t like his tone. “What is it?”
“If you get him on the rape, then he won’t have a legal claim on Bailey.”
I blinked. Nope, still didn’t get it. Didn’t want to understand.
“What does that mean—get him?”
He seemed to choose his words carefully. “If you press charges, prosecute him, and he’s convicted, then legally—”
“No fucking way.” I’d practically shit myself telling Colin. There was no fucking chance I was going to say it in public. And that’s assuming they even would prosecute. And that I’d win.
“Allie,” he said.
“Colin,” I said. “How would Laramie know?”
He didn’t meet my eyes.
“No,” I whispered. “Tell me you didn’t.”
His lips firmed.
It was a small comfort that he didn’t give me excuses. That it was for the best, or that he had a right to share my secrets. Rage would be great, but all I had left was a whisper. “Fuck you.”
I ran from the room, stumbled up the stairs, unseen through my tears, and huddled under the covers. The feeling of my heart being ripped out slipped on like an old shoe. God, the betrayal.
The pain echoed from past wounds, but not just from Andrew.
I remembered my shock at Shelly’s furor. I was grateful for her anger on my behalf, but she was more than that. She’d been spitting mad. She’d called Andrew every swear word I’d ever heard, and a few I hadn’t, and she never swore. Then she’d insisted I tell the authorities. He couldn’t get away with this, she said.
I was confused. Even through my own hurt and anger, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to Andrew. He’d been my friend for so much longer than he’d been my rapist. It wasn’t a switch I could turn off.
But Shelly’s arguments made sense. He deserved whatever punishment he got for what he’d done. And if I didn’t say anything, he might hurt someone else.
A woman on a mission, she kept at me until whatever sanity was left in me wore down.
When I finally wanted to shower, she blocked me. Evidence, she said.
My bruised, sticky body was evidence.
Shelly drove me to the hospital herself. We waited for hours—I wasn’t an emergency. She stayed with me until they took me into the exam room. They wouldn’t let her come with me.
In a room full of strangers, wearing a small, paper gown that gaped open in front, I was made to lie down on a hard table. There were stirrups there—I’d never seen anything like it before.
“Put your feet here,” the doctor said.