a man, but to her, he would always be a boy. Her little brother. Seeing the tears in his eyes reminded her of everything they had survived together. His sandy brown hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled, and she hated that she had caused him such worry.
She looked to Chris, unsure she could speak well enough to explain.
“She already quit the club, Justin,” he said. “This was her last weekend.”
Justin nodded, looking numb as he sat down on the other bed.
“Yes, Dr. Reneau?” a nurse said as she entered the room.
“Can you fill this with cold water, please? And page Vetrovski.”
“Nice to see you’re awake, Abby,” the nurse said, taking the pitcher.
As she left, Chris approached the bed, looking down at her.
“You were attacked in the woods outside the club. Do you remember that?” he asked. She managed a slight nod.
“That’s good. You have internal injuries and a lot of bruising and swelling on your face. Right now you’re on pain medication and it’s probably making everything kind of hazy. We think you’ll make a complete recovery, but you’ll need a lot of rest. The girls are with Marla, so don’t worry about them.”
The nurse returned with the water, pouring some into a plastic cup with a straw in it. She approached Abby, but Chris reached for the cup before she made it.
“I can do this, Lori,” he said. She handed over the cup and he gingerly placed the straw between Abby’s lips. As she sipped, the cold water seemed to bring her some clarity.
“Thanks,” she said, leaning her head back against the pillow before jumping forward again with a start. “Amber! Where’s Amber?”
Chris sighed and reached for her hand.
“Amber’s here, too. But she’s in really bad shape. It’s too soon to tell how badly she was injured.”
“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what you know, Chris.”
He sighed as he met her eyes.
“She was sexually assaulted. It was brutal. Then she was beaten. She probably has brain damage, but we don’t know yet.”
“Oh, God, Chris,” she said, a sick feeling rising from her stomach to her throat. “Was I raped?”
“No,” he said firmly, reaching up to stroke her forehead and hair. “Mickey and one of the guards got there in time.”
Abby’s body went slack with relief.
“She never liked him,” she said, hot tears burning her eyes. “If only I hadn’t told her he was probably harmless…”
“Who? You know who did this?” Chris asked, looking surprised.
“Ron. It was Ron.”
“Go call that detective,” Chris told Justin.
“He got away?” Abby asked sadly.
“Yeah. When Mickey found you guys, he was already gone.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks as Abby cried softly.
“No, don’t cry,” Chris said, rubbing her hand. “This wasn’t your fault. The only one to blame is him, Abby.”
“It’s not that,” she sniffed. “We were about to finally have a normal relationship and now here I am … a beat-up stripper … in your hospital. And you were right all along about the job.”
“Don’t say that,” he said urgently. “Nothing’s changed between us. If anything, it’s made me realize how much I need you. I’ve never been as scared as I was when they brought you in that night.”
“How long?” Abby asked, confused.
“It’s Sunday afternoon.”
“I’m so tired.”
“Go back to sleep. I’ll send Justin home to rest.” He was still stroking her hair, and the soft, comforting sensation made her sleepy.
“I love you,” she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep again.
When she woke back up, the room was dark. Abby turned toward a glow in the corner and Chris looked up from the book he was reading beneath a small lamp on the wall.
“Hey,” he said, walking over to the bed.
“Hi. How long did I sleep?”
“Several hours. It’s Sunday evening.” He sat down at the foot of the bed.
“You don’t have to stay, Chris. Have you been here since Friday?”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I want to be with you for now.”
“You’re just watching me sleep. Can I have some water?”
He reached for the call button on her bed.
“I want to be here if you need something. I’m also worried that lunatic could come looking for you,” he said.
“Ron?”
“They haven’t caught him, but the police are looking.”
A nurse in pink scrubs walked in.
“Can we get some cold water?” Chris asked.
“How are you feeling, Abby?” the nurse asked.
“Better.”
“Are you hungry?” Chris asked.
“Yes.”
“Order some broth from the kitchen,” he told the nurse.
“Anything for you, Dr. Reneau?”
“No, thanks. Reed brought me a sandwich earlier.”
“Abby, there’s a man in the waiting room who