No Way Back (Mia's Way, #1) (5 page)

Daddy sent his lead publicist and the head of his legal team. He’s not coming. Worse, my uncle – Daddy’s chief lawyer – only shows up when something is really wrong. He’s never looked my way twice before, because I never broke the law, just made little dust-ups for the publicity team to fix.

“Ms. Abbottt-Renou is a minor and will not be questioned without her parent or an appointed guardian.” The speaker is Chris Abbott-Renou, my uncle and the world’s most brilliant attorney, according to pretty much everyone.

“She’s not being questioned,” Kiesha says archly. “We can talk to victims who are underage.”

“Not this one.”

“Who are you?” Dom asks, standing.

“Her lawyer and uncle. I’m Chris Abbott-Renou, family attorney.” Daddy’s lawyer shakes Dom’s hand.

“Mr. Abbottt, we need a statement from Ms. Abbottt about what happened last night,” Kiesha says.

“We will provide you a written statement when Ms. Abbottt-Renou has had a chance to rest,” Chris says. “Until then …” He doesn’t have to tell them they’re not welcome. I recognize the tone from the few times I interrupted meetings between him and Daddy.

Kiesha and Dom hesitate but move towards the door. My chest tightens again. I don’t want them to go. In the little time I’ve known them, I already like them more than any of Daddy’s lackeys. I watch them leave me, wanting desperately to tell them to come back.

I don’t say anything. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them.

“Shea, if you could get their names,” Chris tells the publicist.

Shea follows the two cops down the hall, and Chris sits beside me. I feel him looking at me. Neither of us speaks for a long moment. Chris looks different, pale. Almost like he cares, even though he’s never given me the time of day.

“Robert Connor,” he says at last. His blue eyes sharpen.

I close my eyes and turn my face away. So I’m the one on trial.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I know what happened to me,” I say, face hot.

“According to the lab results your doctor showed me, your alcohol level was two times the legal limit and you had … drugs in your system.”

“So?”

“So, Mia, based on what I know, you probably have missing time, hallucinations, and an otherwise flawed recollection of what happened.”

“You’re saying this didn’t happen to me?” I look at him, stunned.

“Not at all,” he said with tried patience. “I’m saying, think carefully about what happened. Robert Connor is the son of one of your father’s greatest allies, one of the most powerful politicians in the country. Can you face him in court and say without a doubt it was him?”

“What do you mean? That’s what you do. You go to court. You handle it.”

“Mia,” Chris chides. “If your case goes to court, you go, too. You have to face your accuser. It’s the law.”

“I don’t want to see him again!” I say, panicking.

“That’s not the way this works. That’s why I’m saying, be certain. You’ll have to testify in front of him, your father, the jury.”

“I … Chris … I want this to go away. I can’t …” I don’t want to, but I’m crying. I don’t understand what he’s saying. Why do I have to see the people who did this to me again?

“Mia, if you aren’t certain, the political fallout would destroy the Abbottt-Renou and Connor families,” Shea added, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the room. “It could damage the entire party to the point where it’s irreparable.”

I see Chris give her a sharp look. I’m crying hard, because I don’t know what to do. I know it was Robert. I saw him … but I can’t remember everything. I know he was there. I heard him talking to … to … I can’t remember the other guy’s name. I can’t even remember their faces.

“Say the word, and I’ll bring in my team to take this kid down,” Chris says. “We’ll go with you to court.”

“Along with every paparazzi in the country. It’ll be on all the news channels and on the front page of every newspaper,” Shea adds. “It’ll destroy your daddy.”

“That’s a little harsh, Shea,” Chris says.

I don’t want that. I don’t want to see my monster face in the newspapers or to hurt the family name, which Daddy cares about more than he does me. I can’t bear the thought of seeing Robert again, of telling the world what he did to me. At least, what I think he did to me. I remember talking to Robert and the next thing I see in my foggy thoughts, I’m standing in front of the fountain, surrounded by fireflies.

What if Chris is right? What if I go to court and still can’t remember everything?

“I … I don’t know!” I sob.

“Mia, if you can’t tell me right here who did this, you’ll have a harder time in court,” Chris says.

“What you’ve been through is horrible, but you have to be careful about this,” Shea says.

This isn’t some political game! This is my life!
I’m crying too hard to say the words out loud. I can’t stand listening to them. I push myself out of my bed and hobble to the bathroom. I lock the door, sit on the floor and cry. My hurt eye aches so bad when I cry. I swallow down a few deep breaths and rest my head against the wall.

God, I’m so tired! It’s cold in the bathroom, but I don’t want to leave. I feel as scared and alone right now as I was last night, when no one was there to help me. Daddy sent his goons to make sure I don’t ruin his reputation more than I already have.

“Mia?” The voice is muffled. “Mia, it’s Robin. I brought you some lunch.”

I haven’t eaten since dinner last night. I’m not hungry, but I’m thirsty. My mouth is dry and icky. Hopefully, Daddy’s lackeys are gone.

“Mia?”

“I’m coming.” I stand up and look in the mirror again. I hate what I see.

I open the door. Even more tired, I want to scream when I see Chris and Shea standing in the room, talking to the un-human doctor who saw me when I came in. Robin isn’t wearing her zoo animals scrubs but flower scrubs today. She’s staring at the three until I take my first step out of the bathroom.

She crosses to me and takes my arm, walking with me across the room. I’m grateful for the assistance. The food on the tray next to the bed looks unappealing. I’m trying to ignore the three talking, but I catch Shea’s soft voice.

“… pregnant.”

I look up, unable to help the tremor of fear that goes through me.

“Are you talking about me?” I demand. “I’m right fucking here, Shea.”

The three look at me.

“Your … father doesn’t want you to have the morning after pill,” the doctor says.

“You need consent for a minor,” Chris says.

“I don’t need it,” I say, confused.

“That’s right,” Shea agrees.

“Ms. Abbottt’s mother gave her consent,” the doctor says.

“Her father disagrees,” Chris says firmly. “It is both the personal and professional opinion of my client that the morning after pill equates to murder. Any attempt to give Ms. Abbottt-Renou the pill will earn your hospital a lawsuit. We’ll shut you down, Doctor.”

“But I don’t
need
it,” I say more loudly. “Daddy says a woman who’s been … who’s gone through this
can’t
get pregnant.”

The doctor stares at me. I glance at Robin, who looks just as surprised. Chris hesitates, but Shea looks confident.

“That’s what my client believes,” Chris says after a minute. “End of discussion.”

I feel like I’m missing something. It’s rare when Chris and Shea agree with me. The doctor looks at Chris for a long moment then walks out. She’s weird anyway, but the look on Robin’s face bugs me.

“Is Daddy coming?” I ask.

“Possibly,” Chris says.

“We’ve hired a therapist, our distant cousin, Dr. Thompkins. You’ll start sessions with him tomorrow, as well as go to the family’s personal physician,” Shea adds. “We can’t let you stay for the two days of observation. The doctor agreed to clear you to leave in twelve hours instead.”

I roll my eyes. Daddy only trusts the family with our most personal business. Shea is another cousin, and most of the people working for us are somehow related. Of all my uncles, Chris is the only one who isn’t a politician and doesn’t have kids.

“It’s becoming too hard to keep this wing of the hospital press-free. It’s only a matter of time before someone shows up in your doorway, snapping pictures,” Shea says.

“No!” I gasp. “Oh, god, no!”

“I’ve got it handled,” Shea says with a small smile. “It’s what I do. No one will see you leave tonight.”

“Worry about healing, Mia,” Chris says. “We’ll worry about the rest.”

I don’t feel assured. I look towards the door, hoping to see Dom and Kiesha outside. They aren’t there. I pull my knees to my chest again.

“Chris … about Robert ...” Just saying the name makes me want to vomit.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“I can’t remember.”

“It’s okay, Mia. We’ll get through this. Focus on resting, okay?”

“We’ll see you later, Mia,” Shea says.

They leave. Chris almost seemed truly supportive, though Shea was more interested in bad publicity. Somehow, I feel worse.

“These taste better than they look,” Robin says, indicating the two small cheeseburger sliders on the plate.

“I’m too tired to eat,” I say. “Are Kiesha and Dom coming back?”

“I don’t think so. Your father’s … people have closed down this floor.”

I take the glass of water and sip it then gaze around at the hospital room. I can’t sleep here. I feel exposed. Maybe I can sleep in the bathroom.

“I can stay until you fall asleep,” Robin offers.

“Okay,” I reply.

“You’ll get to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

“Yeah.” Maybe Ari will spend the night at my place. I settle onto my left side, the only position that doesn’t cause me pain.

“Mia, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did your daddy tell you that raped women can’t get pregnant?”

Surprised, I sit up so I can see her with my good eye. Robin is frowning.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll let you rest. I should’ve have asked you that. Do you need a pain pill before you go to sleep?”

I’m concerned but exhausted. I nod. My head, eye and ankle are all throbbing. Robin brings me one. I take it then I lay back down, but I can’t help wondering what’s bothering her. The painkillers knock me out before I can give it too much thought.

Chapter Four

Just past midnight, I escape the hospital into the back of one of Daddy’s cars. I don’t lower the hood on my sweatshirt until I’m seated in the backseat. Even then, I shrink away from the tinted window.

We drive by the front of the hospital. It looks like a zoo! Press members have staked out the hospital, and there’s police tape marking off the area while cops guide traffic around the crowd. I want to go back to the hospital room and hide in the bathroom. The back of the large car feels too big.

I’ve never liked Shea, but she knows how to do her job. She got me out of there without one single reporter figuring out how I’d be leaving.

“Where’s Daddy?” I ask her. She’s sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Someone on your floor leaked pictures of you. He’s currently meeting with the head of
The Left Observer
to keep your face out of the garbage papers in grocery store checkout stands.”

Distraught, I pull my hood up again, more comfortable with it on, and hunch into a corner of the backseat. The drive to Daddy’s Virginia home is long and dark. I’m dozing by the time we get there, and I’m not surprised to see more paparazzi in front of the house. I tug my hood forward and hunch as flashes of cameras go off. The gate opens so slowly, but we finally make it through.

“I can’t leave the house!” I say, near tears again.

“Your public personality has been elevated,” Shea replies calmly. “I’m addressing it.”

“Addressing it? To fix it?”

“Time might fix this. Or it might not. Like celebrities that explode overnight. Some fade away, and some don’t. We’re going to put you into the speech circuit when you’re healed in a few weeks. You’ve lived through something that will make female voters relate to you and sympathize with –”

I feel sick at her words. I block them out. My whole life, I’ve largely avoided the spotlight. My half-sister – Daddy’s favorite – loves the attention. Everyone is happy when she’s in the spotlight and I’m hiding out with Ari.