36. Scott
CHAPTER 36
Scott
T he 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. “I know 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?”
Another nod.
I strip out of my borrowed clothes, leaving on my boxers, and step into the water. Athena limps two steps toward me, and I pick her up. The fact she still trusts me when she’s this violated, vulnerable and exposed doesn’t escape my notice, and it’s not something I plan to push or take for granted.
Regular Athena would have powered through, found a way to make this bath possible without me, so as I sink into the steaming, hot suds, a wave of relief and gratitude wash over me with the water.
I place her between my legs, her back against my chest and hold her while she trembles despite the heat.
I want to tell her she’s safe, I want to tell her I’ve got her, and no one can hurt her now, but everything that comes into my mind to say are all hollow platitudes that we both know won’t make her feel any better.
Somehow, I manage to clean her without hurting her. I take it painstakingly slow, cleaning any remaining dirt and streaks of blood from her body. Her hair was already combed at the hospital, so washing it is easier than I expected it to be, though I’m sure I’m doing it wrong.
After I rinse out her conditioner, she leans back against my body on a sigh. “A few more minutes,” she mumbles.
I’m so afraid to touch her in case it’s an unwanted touch, but I stroke her arm. “Take as long as you need, Athena. We’re in no hurry.”
By the time I dry her, get her boot back on, and put her in her most comfy, oversized pajamas, then re-dress myself in the sweater and scrub pants from the hospital, it’s eight am. I need to tell coach and the boys I won’t be at morning skate, but if Athena’s not ready to talk to them, I’ll have to lie.
It’s not even a choice; I won’t tell them something she doesn’t want them to know. I’ll absolutely lie to my best friends, but they’re a close family, it’s a matter of time before one of them arrives at her door for one reason or another.
“I need you to tell them.” It’s as though she’s reading my mind. She’s staring down at her cast, propped up in her bed by a wall of pillows against the headboard, and extra cushions on either side to keep her upright.
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Bright Eyes.”
She tries to smile, but a hiss slips out of her mouth followed by a frustrated grunt. “I can’t tell them. I’m sorry.” Tears trickle down her face as I hold my hand up.
“I’ve got you. Do you want me to tell them right now?”
She nods, holding out her hand. “Phone.”
It clearly hurts for her to talk, so I hand her my phone to type on. I think hers may still be outside in my car, I’m not sure.
She types out a message to me: Send them a 9-1-1 text. It’s the only thing that’ll make them miss practice, or school. Well, not Ares, he’s always up for playing hooky.
The fact she’s still able to crack a joke is nothing short of miraculous to me, but it’s just another testament to how fucking strong she is.
“I’ll meet them out at the door and tell them in the other room, then bring them in here?”
She nods.
“Anything you want me to keep out of my narrative?”
She shakes her head, taking the phone back off me. They need to know, and I have no reason to hide it.
So fucking brave.
I ease onto the edge of the mattress, terrified of crowding her, or being too in her space. Uncertainty scrapes across my skin. I want to be here more than anywhere else in the entire world, but if it’s too much for her, if it makes her uncomfortable, I’ll go.
“I can leave when they get here if you’d rather.”
She reaches out to grab my hand, and when our eyes meet, she shakes her head, making the disheveled braid, that looks nothing like a braid because it’s my first time, hanging over her shoulder, shake. “Don’t leave me.” Her eyes plead with me, filled with a deep well of pain I want to reach out and somehow take away from her.
“I’ll stay, but if I’m too much, if I overstep, or you need space, please just say, okay?” Another torrent of emotion surges through my body as I struggle to swallow down the need to cry. I’m not going to breakdown in front of her. I won’t.
She nods, stroking my hand with her thumb as she jerks her swollen, black and blue chin at the phone in my hand.
It takes precisely six minutes for the front door of Athena’s apartment to swing open. At the five-minute mark, she ushered me into the other room so her brothers wouldn’t burst into her bedroom and see her without any preparation.
No one’s out of breath. If any of them ran the distance, I can’t tell.
When they come into the room and see me, Apollo tilts his head. “You weren’t on my couch this morning.”
Artemis points at my clothes. “What the fuck are you wearing, man?” He’s right, I’ve never owned a Gap sweater in my life. Everything about this picture is wrong, and they all know it.
“Where is she?” Ares’s voice is flat, charged with the potential to ignite into trouble at any moment. As always.
Artemis looks at the closed door behind me that leads to Athena’s bedroom. It’s never closed. He takes a step toward the door, and I dart to intercept. His eyes darken, but he relents and steps back.
“I need you all to trust me for a minute.”
The weight of their collective stares is damn near debilitating. They’re intimidating men by themselves, but together… Fuck. This is hard.
“Something happened.”
Artemis looks at the door behind me. And I swear to all that’s holy if he makes a play for that door, I’ll take him down. “Don’t, Artemis. Please. Just let me explain first. It’s what she wants.”
The confusion in Apollo’s face is replaced by fear as his eyes widen.
“Do you want to sit down?” I need to try to diffuse the already mounting tension in the room, but no one moves.
I heave out a sigh, brushing the back of my neck with my palm, the weight of the night resting heavy on my chest and shoulders.
As though they’ve just realized I’m here too, Artemis steps toward me. “You look like shit, Scott. What happened?”
I stifle a yawn with my fist, turning to Apollo. “While you were in the shower, your phone rang. It was Athena, so I answered it.”
He shrugs as though that’s no big deal. “If your phone was ringing, and it was my sister, I’d answer it too. No big deal.”
I nod. Not that I needed the validation, but I didn’t need him pissed at me for that.
“She.” I pause, blowing out a breath. I look into the eyes of her brothers, the ones who love her almost as much as I do, and my stomach plummets. How can I tell them what I saw? What she went through? How can I tell them what they’re going to walk into in that room?
Ares touches my elbow, making me jump damn near out of my skin. “Sit, hermano, you’re shaking.”
They don’t give me a choice, they guide me to the couch and make me sit.
“She.” I swallow, closing my eyes for a beat, still unsure how to say what the fuck happened overnight.
Artemis takes my hand between his. “Just tell us, Scott. Whatever it is, get it out, and we’ll deal with it.”
What I’d give for a poorly placed joke from Ares right now, but everyone knows that what we’re here to talk about isn’t the place for funny.
“She was attacked.” The words are like nails as they tumble from my mouth. “As she was leaving the library. They carried her around the back of the building.”
The air shifts, the tension that was there thickens, and all three men sit with rod-straight spines.
“They held her down.”
Ares curses under his breath. Apollo sits on the couch next to me. I can’t even look at Artemis to see how he’s taking it.
“One of them…” The tears start, and no amount of frantic blinking can put them back. “He raped her while his friend held her and recorded it.” My chest shudders with the effort of what I’m saying. My mouth is dry. Reliving what I saw while telling my family what their sister endured is crushing.
“She fought them. She’s alive, but she’s also pretty fucked up.” There’s no other way to say it, and if I sugarcoat it and they walk into that room, someone may end up making her feel worse about how she looks, or what she’s been through.
“She’s badly bruised.” I point to my jaw. “And we all know that the bruising is going to get worse before it gets better. Her lip is busted, her nose, there’s a cut over her eye, and she has two stitches at the back of her head. There’s bruising around her throat.” I clear my own throat, the words making it harder to speak.
“She’s got a cast on her arm, it’s fractured or broken, I can’t…” I pinch the space at the top of my nose. “I can’t remember. She’s wearing a boot; they’ll need to scan her foot again in a few days once the swelling goes down because it’s like a fucking melon.” I shake my head. I’ve addressed her extremities, but I don’t want to talk about her intimate spaces with her brothers.
Artemis squeezes my hand. “Keep going, Scott. You’re doing great.”
“Her thighs.” Fuck. I can’t look at any of her brothers when I’m talking about her thighs. “There’s bruising.” I wave my free hand. “She has a bruised kidney, a minor liver bleed that should heal itself, and she’s covered.” Another swallow as my hand shakes inside Artemis’s. “She’s got so many bruises.”
I sniff, wiping at my cheeks with the heel of my hand. “They beat her when she fought.” I retell her story to them the way she told it to the nurses. “It hurts to talk; she doesn’t have much mobility in her face because of the swelling. She bit one of them.”
Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it.
My shoulders shake.
“He had his… His…”
Apollo cusses.
“She bit his cock?” Ares doesn’t mince his words, absolving me of having to say it out loud.
I nod.
Ares hangs his head in his hands, like he’s regretting having asked me the question.
“She scratched the other guy, too. Clawed at him to get his DNA under her nails. But she’s in b-b-bad shape guys.” I beseech each of them with my eyes. “At the hospital, we did a rape kit. They took everything as evidence, all our clothes, the phone we found a few feet from where she, I, where they, where she was attacked. They took my fingerprints, DNA, statements from both of us.”
I’m still crying as the words come faster and faster from me in a bid to get through the story. “We’ve been there all night. They combed through her hair, did an internal examination. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary there, but they’ve given her a preventative course of antibiotics, just in case.”
My shoulders sag. “I took her back here and gave her a bath. She hasn’t said much, partly because she can’t, but she’s got this look.” I shake my head like it might clear the look from my brain. “This look like she’s haunted.” Another wave of emotion spills from my eyes in front of her brothers.
I need to be strong for her, but I don’t give a shit if they see me break down.
“She needed you to know. She wanted me to tell you all of the details. If you have questions, I’ll answer them if I can, but it’s been a long night, we haven’t slept, and while I’ve told you what to expect going through that door and into her bedroom, I can tell you you’re not ready to see what’s waiting for you.”
I press at the knot in my chest. “But she needs us all to be strong.” I straighten my spine. “And I love all of you, you all know that. But no one’s going into that room until you are ready to be what she needs. If you need to go take a walk, do it. If you need to punch something, go do it. But once you go into that room you’re here for Athena and Athena alone, nothing else matters.”
By the time I finish, I’m even more exhausted than I already was. I’m still shaking. But if any of these guys can’t give Athena what she needs, I’ll find the strength somehow to stop them.
“I have a question.” Ares’s voice is muffled by his hands. When he lifts his head up, his face is tear streaked. “Who the fuck did this?”