“But I wasn’t drunk! Call my friends. Talk to Josh. I had a few drinks but was sober by the time I left. Josh checked in with me before I left to make sure I was good.”
“You hadn’t had the drink yet. It was in a takeaway cup.”
She groaned. “Why would they drug me in public when they could’ve just slipped me something at their house? I was already going home with them. I wasn’t going to their place to play checkers. I was already willing.”
“To have sex with two strangers and to let them abuse you.”
Cora closed her eyes. Part of her wanted to die discussing this with her mother. Awkward wasn’t an adequate enough word to describe it. But she was tired of being ashamed, of hiding, of being the girl who wore all the masks. “Yes. I’m kinky, all right? I’ve dabbled in that lifestyle online for a while and wanted to try it for real with them. So yes, I wanted to be with both of them. And I wanted them to be a little rough. It was all with consent. I don’t remember everything, but I remember that much without doubt. And it’s okay that you don’t approve or that you think I’m weird or being young and stupid, but I need you to believe me. I need you to trust my judgement on these two guys. They are not the criminals.”
Her mother stepped back and lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Coraline. I love you and I’d much rather know that you were just being wild and that no one had hurt you, but I can’t in good conscience believe that these guys didn’t do this to you. The evidence doesn’t lie.”
The words hurt more than Cora expected. Her mother would rather trust a stranger’s word than hers. All her life she’d played by her mom’s rules and it hadn’t made a difference. But she held back the tears that threatened and nodded. “Innocent until proven guilty. Right. Sure.”
She walked over to the cabinet, which thankfully held her purse and phone, and then walked out in search of the nurse so she could sign the papers.
She loved her mother more
than anyone in the world. But right now, there were two men sitting in jail who needed her.
She wasn’t going to let them down.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Ren paced the cell, unable to sleep or sit or do much of anything but walk and stress. They hadn’t told him anything. He had no idea if Cora was okay, and Hayes had been taken to a different part of the station. The not knowing was going to kill him. If someone would just tell him that Cora was okay, he could at least breathe. Ren had called their lawyer, hoping that Jim could get him some information, but he’d had to leave a message.
A cop came down the hallway, a bored look on his face. “Muroya, you have a visitor.”
“Thank Christ,” Ren muttered, raking a hand through his hair. At least if he had a lawyer here, he had a chance at getting news or getting the hell out of this place.
“Turn your back to the door so I can cuff you.”
Ren did as he was told and then the deputy let him out of the holding cell. He directed him to walk a little ahead of him and guided Ren down the hallway and into the main part of the station.
The cop cleared his throat before they got to the visitation room. “You’re only going to have a few minutes. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m only going to have a few minutes with my lawyer?” Ren asked. “The hell I am. It’s my right to meet with counsel.”
The cop smirked. “This isn’t counsel. And I’m not losing my job over this. So be quick. Got me?”
“What?”
But Ren didn’t have to ask again because when the cop swung open the door, Ren found Cora sitting at the table inside. She looked up, face drawn and pale, hair gathered in a haphazard ponytail, and a haunted look in her eyes.
“Benning.” All the air whooshed out of him and he nearly dropped to his knees. “Thank you, God.”
Ren wanted to rush to her, to hug her, to feel for himself that she was okay, but when he jerked his arms forward, the cuffs reminded him where he was. He took a breath, trying to calm himself.
“Go on.” The cop let him step inside and then shut the door behind Ren.
Cora’s gaze slid to his arms, registering the cuffs, and she winced. “Does he have to wear those?”
A voice from the corner of the room answered. “I’m trying to stick as close to protocol as I can, Junior. Plus, Muroya’s put enough people in cuffs. He can handle wearing them for a few minutes.”
Ren’s gaze hopped to where the voice had come from. Andre Medina stood there in a suit, arms crossed, badge on his hip, and expression serious.
He gave Ren a little nod. “You have a few minutes. If her mother found out I let you two talk, she’d have my job.”
“Her mother?” Ren asked.