No Way Back (Mia's Way, #1) (4 page)

I wobble to my feet with their help. I’m almost too dizzy to stand. It’s agony! More flashes then I try to sit, only to find it even more painful. Swallowing hard, I manage to lie on my side without the fiery pain tearing through me.

“Mia, we need to take pictures of your lower body,” Robin-the-nurse says in her zoo-animal voice.

I squeeze my working eye closed and nod. I know why now. They’re taking pictures of the damage. I don’t want to see these pictures. I don’t want to know how bad it is. I want to lay here and wake up feeling all better. It can’t be that bad. It hurts, but not like it did.

Kiesha-the-cop smiles when I open my eyes. It’s a tense smile, and the way she looks at my lower body when the nurse removes the gown tells me it’s not good. The nurse is looking at the damage as the photographer snaps pictures. I’m admiring Kiesha’s ruby lipstick – a shade I could never wear but wish I could – when the nurse touches me. I jerk.

“Mia, what’s your last name?” Kiesha asks, her dark eyes on me. She’s a small African-American woman, though I can tell she’s tougher than she looks from the calluses on the hand that grips mine.

“Abbottt-Renou,” I say.

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Like the politician from down South?” Kiesha asks. “Are you related?”

“He’s my daddy.”

No one says anything. I close my eyes. I wish I’d died in the garden.

“We need to do an exam, Mia,” Robin-zoo-animals says. “The doctor’s name is Minnie, like the cartoon. I’m going to ask her to come in, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“After the exam, we need to check out your head.”

“It hurts,” I tell her.

“Once the doctor checks you out, we can give you something for it,” Robin says.

The doctor comes in. She doesn’t look like a cartoon. Unlike Kiesha, she doesn’t smile and isn’t wearing zoo-animals. She barely acknowledges me. Kiesha puts a blanket over my lower body, and the doctor and the woman with the camera hunch under it to stare at my private parts. I feel one of them poking at my tender parts, and I start crying again.

The doctor stands. She peels off bloodied gloves and tosses them in a wastebasket with biohazard signs.

There’s so much blood, it looks like I’m on my period. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe any of this. I’m still praying this is a terrible, too-real dream that’ll end soon.

The doctor moves my legs and pauses at my swollen right ankle. I have a vague memory of twisting it chasing fireflies. Or something. She continues testing my limbs while the nurse and the other cop take notes. The doctor rolls me on my side and touches the welt across my back.

“Ouch!” I hiss and move away.

“I know it hurts, but I’m almost done,” the doctor says.

I’m
really
not liking her. Where Robin-zoo-animals is sweet, the doctor seems like she’s as interested in me as she is the curtains. Kiesha looks upset. Her jaw is clenched, and she’s holding my hand as tightly as I am hers. I look past her. The door is only partially open, but I can see Dom. The man with my grandfather’s wheezy voice and brown eyes is guarding me.

I was always my grandfather’s favorite. We used to eat ice cream and make fun of the rest of our family, of my half-sister Molly’s prissy behavior and Daddy’s long, boring speeches. Mom told me quietly one day when I was ten that my grandpa was senile. I always thought he was the only person who made sense.

“Please be still,” the doctor tells me.

I obey and hold still, even when her cold fingers press too hard on my back. She touches my arm to signal it’s time to lie on my back. I do so with a grimace. She pokes around at my chest, neck, and head, all while the other two take notes.

I feel like a science project.

God, I want to die!

“You’ve got a mild concussion,” the doctor says at last. “The cut in your head is shallow.”

Seriously? Is that
all
that’s wrong? I want to laugh and cry. I make a strange sound somewhere in between, and the doctor really looks at me for the first time.

“I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through,” she says, her voice warming like a normal human’s at last. “You’re going to need stitches, and I want to make sure there’s no more head trauma. We’ll keep you for a day or two for observation. Are your parents on their way?”

I look at Kiesha.

“We’ll call them,” Kiesha says.

“I’ll need to talk to them about the morning after pill. State law requires minors have parental permission before we can administer.”

I gasp. “But I haven’t … I … are you serious?”

“She’s not saying you
are
pregnant, just that it’s a precaution they normally take,” Robin says quickly.

It hits me that I’d lost my virginity tonight. This isn’t how I thought it’d happen. It isn’t right that someone can
take
it from me! And it’s not possible to get pregnant from rape; Daddy says a woman’s body has the ability to prevent it. He talks about abortion a lot in his speeches, and he’s always arguing with other politicians about it. I pay no attention, because I don’t care, like most the stuff he talks about. I do know he pays people a lot of money to research the stuff he says in his speeches.

If Daddy knows, shouldn’t a doctor know it’s not possible? What the hell is going on?

I stare at the doctor. The human side of her fades again, and she finishes examining me like a piece of furniture at a crime scene on TV. When she’s done, she leaves. The cop who took pictures approaches me next.

“I need to get a few more pieces of evidence. May I see your hands?”

Evidence. Like I really am a piece of furniture. I hold out my hand. She swabs my mouth, scrapes under all the nails and places the dirt in a small baggy that goes in a black bag. When she’s done, she leaves me, too.

“Okay, that’s over with,” Robin says. “We’ve gotta get you fixed up. I need to draw some blood.”

Kiesha’s radio squawks, and ducks into the hallway. I watch her and Dom, panicking at the idea that they are going to leave me there. I don’t like this place. I don’t like the doctor. I don’t want to stay here.

“They’ll be back tomorrow to interview you,” Robin says.

I look at her, and she’s looking out the door, too. Robin-zoo-animals isn’t much bigger than me. She can’t keep
them
away. I was alone when they hurt me. I wasn’t ever going to be alone again.

“I don’t want them to leave,” I tell her.

“Your parents should be here soon. You’re safe here.”

“No, they won’t! Mama’s in rehab and Daddy’s at a fundraiser! Neither of them would come here for
me
!” I don’t mean to shout the words, but I can’t help it.

Robin looks surprised. “I’m sure one of them will come.” Her attention goes to my arm, and I look away as she draws blood.

“You don’t know my family!”

“Everything okay?” Dom’s wheezy voice draws my attention. He’s not looking in the room, as if afraid of seeing the bloody mess that’s me.

“Yes,” Robin says. “I think Mia would like one of you to stay tonight.”

“Sure.”

I want to cry again. This time I don’t know why.

“Is that cool, Mia?” Robin’s voice is always warm.

I nod. I feel bad for yelling at her. She’s been nice to me.

“I’m going to deliver these to the lab,” she says and holds up the tray of vials she’s taken of my blood. “Dom will be right there. When I get back, I’ll take you down the hall, so we can clean you up and get you some stitches. Okay?”

I nod again. She leaves.

The room feels cold and lonely. I rest my head on the pillow and stare hard out the door. No one can get me as long as the policeman that reminds me of Grandpa Abbottt is here.

Chapter Three

I’m right about my parents not coming. It’s almost noon by the time the doctors finish cleaning, stitching and x-raying me. I’m tired but am pleased to see Dom is still sitting outside my room when they roll me back. I barely have a moment to myself before he knocks, and he and Kiesha walk in.

“Are you feeling up to telling us what happened?” Kiesha asks. She’s got a cup of coffee in one hand and a notepad in the other.

I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. My private parts still burn from stitches. Something about how it’s going to hurt to take a shit for awhile, until the tears in my vagina heal. Along with painkillers and antibiotics, they’re giving me stool softeners, like old people use.

I want Dom and Kiesha to kill those who did this to me.

“Can I have a minute to clean up first?” I ask.

“Sure.”

They leave and close the door. I grimace as I lift myself out of bed. The hospital floor is cold against my bare feet. I limp to the bathroom. My ankle doesn’t hurt anymore, but it doesn’t move right either.

I turn on the light to the tiny bathroom. I see nothing but a Halloween monster in the mirror above the sink.

I’m the monster. My blonde hair is sticking out everywhere like it does without smoothing crème. Part of it is brown-red from blood. My cheek is yellow, my black eye swollen closed and black. My good eye is smeared with mascara and the colors I wore last night, which somehow ended up all over the left side of my face. I have bruises all over my face and neck. My good eye looks haunted, and I’m pale.

They did this to me. They made me a monster. The bruises will heal, but I’ll never be able to forget what happened.

The surreal experience returns, flashing like a disjointed dream in my mind. I close my eyes and can almost feel the cool spray from the fountain. I can hear them coming for me. I can feel them hurting me. My chest seizes, and suddenly, I can’t breathe.

Not again!

I’m being dragged down to the ground and lash out, trying to keep from sinking into the memory.

“Shit!”

“Grab her, Dom!”

“Mia, it’s okay!”

Someone catches me, keeps me from going back to last night. My tunnel vision makes it hard for me to see who. Smelling salts jar me awake. I recognize the cop, Kiesha, and stare up at the harsh lights, not sure at first where I am.

“You okay?” Dom’s face appears in my vision. His warm arms are around me.

Kiesha raised the smelling salts. I push her hand away.

“Why … why do you have those?” I demand, hating them in that moment.

“Keeps me awake on third shift.” Kiesha gives me a genuine smile, the first I’ve seen. “You scared us again.”

“Sorry,” I mumble. I try to move. Dom has me clutched against him. I don’t entirely want him to let go; it’s the safest I’ve felt since last night.

“C’mon, Dom. We’ll keep this short, Mia.”

I nod. Kiesha rises, and Dom lifts me easily and carries me back to the hospital bed. He sets me down then pulls up a chair beside the bed. Kiesha sits next to him. My eyes fall to the blood on Dom’s uniform. My blood. I clench my hands, nervous.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened first, and we’ll go from there,” Kiesha says.

I hesitate and look at her. I don’t want to tell anyone. I want to forget. And I want those who hurt me to pay. But I’m terrified.

“Take your time.”

Kiesha and Dom have stayed with me since they found me. Not even Daddy came to see me. My eyes water, and I feel both indebted to the two beside me and ashamed they had to stay because Daddy wouldn’t come.

“I, um, went to Sven’s party. Ari was supposed to go with me, but her dad made her go to the fundraiser. I refused to go. So I got to Sven’s but the party was totally lame. I didn’t know anyone except …” I can’t say his name. I see his face again in my head. I swallow hard.

“Except …” Kiesha prompted.

“Robert,” I whisper.

“Do you know his last name?” Dom asks.

I say it in my head then carefully say it out loud. “Connor.”

“Robert Connor,” Kiesha says, writing down the name. “And you know him?”

I nod.

“Excuse me, officers.”

My heart soars as I recognize the voice then plummets when I realize it’s not Daddy. We all look towards the door. A familiar man in gray slacks and a polo steps into my room. As soon as I see him and the smaller woman behind him, I feel like crying again.