“Is she ok?” Mrs. Coach asks, her voice cracking with emotion.
The doctor takes a look at his clipboard again and then back up at all three of us, “She tested positive for Rohypnol.”
“Sonofabitch,” I curse, loud enough to make the doctor flinch.
“What concerns me,” he continues, “Is the dosage. Had she not vomited most of it out and had this young man not known to bring her here immediately, she might’ve been in serious danger. We pumped her stomach and we’ve given her some fluids through an IV drip but she will have to stay here overnight for observation. Our visiting hours are over but you can go see her if you’d like, just not too long. Room 405 down the hall.”
The doctor shakes Coach’s hand and then leaves. My body sags in relief knowing that I got to her in time.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you go see our girl,” Coach Morgan says softly, wiping his wife’s tears, “I need to talk to Grayson for a few minutes.”
She shoots me a small smile and nods, leaving me alone in the small waiting room with Coach. “I can’t thank you enough,” he says turning to face me. He’s a large man, only two or three inches taller than me but right now he looks small, worried. “I don’t know much about the nature of your relationship with my niece, but by the look on your face I know you care about her, a lot.”
I swallow hard. How do I explain my feelings for Huntley when I don’t even know what they are? I should probably just be honest. “Yes Coach, I really do.”
I meet his unreadable expression and watch as understanding makes its way across his tired features. “Do you know who might’ve done this?” he asks. His voice is so low but I can hear the anger coursing through every word. I know Coach pretty well and I’ve only seen that signature tick in his jaw twice – the first time was when someone insulted his wife and now.
“I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete. Demi said Huntley went on a date last night, with Luke Bailey, and then they stopped by the bar for some drinks. Demi also said she was with Huntley all night and she only had the two drinks that Luke bought her.”
“Alright, I will have a word with his swim coach in the morning and then I’ll call him and his daddy in for a little chat. He messed with the wrong girl.”
“It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. I’m just sorry it had to happen to Huntley for the fucker to get caught,” I say, not even worrying about cussing in front of Coach.
We leave the waiting room and while Coach heads towards Huntley’s room I go to where Brody is sitting with a sleeping Demi. “Take her home,” I whisper, “I’m going to wait to see Huntley.”
He gets up, careful not to wake Demi as he places her against his chest. “Call me later,” he says. We bump fists and then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the emergency room. Memories of the night my sister died come flying into my head, crash landing like it happened yesterday. I push them away, not wanting to deal with all those emotions again.
I must’ve dosed of because when a small hand grabs my shoulders, I startle. My eyelids fly open and Mrs. Coach is standing in front of me. “Grayson honey,” she whispers, her voice soothing but tired, “Huntley’s asking for you.”
I stand and stretch, feeling stiff from the position I fell asleep in. It’s already close to four am.
“We’re going to head home now but we’ll be back later as soon as Huntley’s been discharged.” I hug her goodbye and feel her shake. She’s crying again and I think it can only be from relief. Coach takes her from my embrace and places her in his own, saying goodbye as they exit the hospital.
Huntley’s room is quiet and dark. The sliver of moonlight skims through the tiny gap between the pale blue curtains and falls on her face. Even in a flimsy hospital gown with messy hair, she looks iridescent. Picturesque.
I walk to her bed and start taking my shoes off. The distance between us is enough to push me over the edge and I need to be close to her, knowing that close isn’t close enough. “Grayson?” she whispers, her eyes barely open. Her voice is scratchy and hoarse and if I didn’t know what caused it I’d think it was sexy. But the sound makes me angry all over again. Someone hurt her. That makes me see red.
I climb onto the small hospital bed, careful not to move her too much. “Sssshhh” I whisper. “I’m here.”
She grips my shirt like her life depends on it, like she’s being starved of oxygen. My arms wrap around her gently and I cradle her in my chest. “I’m so sorry,” I say against her forehead. “For everything.”
“Don’t leave me,” she replies. “Please don’t leave me.”
My anger dissolves at the simple request and the vulnerability that streams through her soft voice. She falls asleep quickly but doesn’t loosen her grip on my shirt.
I don’t know how to respond. I’ve been avoiding her and what I feel for her.
I don’t think I can anymore.
I don’t think I want to.
Chapter 13