Page 90 of Riding the Pine

“No,” she whispers, another torrent of tears coursing down her face. “Not yet.”

Seren starts to explain the entire process, what they’re going to do in what order, why, how the imaging and treatment is going to work, she’s very thorough, and when she speaks, she addresses both of us.

My back cramps with what is bound to be stress and tiredness, but as much as I want to curl up in bed next to my girl, our night is just beginning.

CHAPTER 36

Scott

The rape kit takes over three hours to complete and is something I never want to experience again for the rest of my life. Seren is a specifically trained nurse for rape kits.

Like, what even is that? Why? How do we live in a society where we need people with special training to take a kit after someone has been so brutally attacked?

It doesn’t even compute.

They’ve taken everything, Athena’s shoes, her clothes, my clothes—and due to my hockey player shape, I don’t fit into the scrubs I was offered so one of the broader doctors gave me his sweater from his locker.

They’ve combed her hair, scraped under her fingernails, swabbed inside her mouth, and taken the baggie of vomit, which Athena told them may have chunks of one of the guy’s dicks in there.

One of them.

Chicken shit bastards held her down, and if she hadn’t fought back the way she did, I bet they’d have taken turns.

My stomach lurches, but there’s nothing left to throw up.

Seren explained the process as she was doing it. She apologized for it being so intrusive, so violating, she spends the entire time talking directly to Athena in soothing, calm tones, and every member of staff who comes near Athena’s room is female.

I want nothing more than to hold her to me and tell everyone to fuck all the way off, but time is of the essence when it comes to collecting evidence in instances like these. As Seren said the internal rape kit has to be refrigerated as soon as possible.

When I think we’re finally finished, we’re sent to get a cast on Athena’s wrist and a boot on her ankle, then a detective appears to take our statements. As much as I want to be in the room with Athena, to hold her hand while she’s recounting her experience, I understand they need to question us separately.

As far as they’re concerned, there’s probably every chance that I’m the one who attacked her. No matter what either of us say. Once they get the DNA evidence results, they’ll know with one hundred percent certainty I didn’t rape my girlfriend.

As the adrenaline leaves my body, my muscles grow heavy, and someone has to wake me up to talk to the detective. Seren assures me that she won’t leave Athena alone while I’m being questioned.

It’s another hour before we’re discharged with pain meds and a preventative course of antibiotics. The drive home is spent in silence, Athena staring out the window into the blurring lights as we weave through the streets back to her place. She does take my hand, though, and holds it so tightly I’m afraid to let it go when we pull into the parking lot.

“Do you want me to carry you?”

She simply nods; her expression vacant.

The clock ticks over to 06:30 as we enter Athena’s apartment. Placing her gently onto the couch, I straighten up. “Iknow this is hard, but we’ll do whatever you want to do. Should I call your brothers?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet.” Her hand flies to her face as she winces. “Bath?”

I nod, but don’t want to leave her to run it. I bring her with me, sitting her in the comfy chair in the corner of her room, start running the water, and come back. I don’t want her out of my sight. Not even for the length of time it takes the bath to fill up.

“I’m going to be right outside here, okay? If you need anything…” My voice breaks. She cups my face with her good hand. It takes all my strength not to fall apart.

“Come in with me.” Her gravelly voice is a whisper, and her mouth barely moves. She shows me her arm. “We’re going to need to keep this dry.”

The urge to facepalm right now is overwhelming, but I simply nod. “If you’re sure.”

It’s a few long, still silent minutes before the bath is ready. I try to offer her some dignity and avert my eyes, but she needs my help to get her boot off and undressed.

I didn’t think her body could look any more battered and bruised than it did under those bright, hospital lights. But in the warm glow of her own home, and the way the bruises are spreading under her skin makes my gut wrench all over again.

“Do you want me in the water with you?”

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