bar, and everything had been caught on camera.
The big guy entering the bar shortly after the girls showed up for happy hour.
Him speaking with one of Kody’s cocktail servers.
Him handing her something and motioning toward the table.
The cocktail server adamantly refusing and shaking her head.
The man then showing her something on his phone.
The cocktail server then reluctantly taking whatever it was he shoved in her direction.
The video also showed the server pouring the contents of the small vial into a martini glass, then looking directly at the camera behind the bar and mouthing an apology.
Later, when Case arrived at the hospital to speak with his sister about the incident, he would reveal the man had pictures of the server’s kids on his phone and had threatened the woman to get her cooperation. So far, the attacker was cooling his heels behind bars and not saying a word. He’d lawyered up, which tied Case’s hands. Silently, I made the promise to myself that if the guy who drugged and terrorized Presley walked out of the sheriff’s office, he wasn’t going to make it very far. I didn’t have the same red tape to wade through in order to get the information I wanted, and I wasn’t as worried about playing fair and keeping things clean and legal as Case was. I lived my life getting my hands dirty, usually for a good cause, but sometimes for my own personal reasons. I rarely regretted when it was time to climb into the mud.
It was easy enough to wash the filth off the outside. It was the way it stained the inside that always kept me from getting too close to anyone outside of the club. Except for the woman who was currently falling apart in front of my eyes. For whatever reason, I wanted to get as close to her as possible. It was making me angry in a way I couldn’t put into words to see someone who was strong, and typically so pulled together, wilting and crumbling to pieces. I hated feeling helpless and ineffective while Presley suffered in a pain-filled silence. Like I told her before, I didn’t like it one bit when other people hurt her.
She inhaled sharply and lifted a trembling hand to her wet face. “I’m fine. I just dropped my moisturizer in the sink.” She rubbed the back of her hand across her cheek and kept her gaze locked firmly on the ground. “I told you, I’m going to be okay. You don’t need to hang around and keep an eye on me. I’m sure you have other things you can be doing with your time.” Her words trailed off and her eyes drifted closed. She really seemed to be on the edge of shattering into a million fragile pieces.
Case and I had almost come to blows when it was time for Presley to leave the hospital. He wanted to take her home, and I knew if he did, he was going to lecture her about her safety and warn her to keep her distance from me. If he took her home, I wasn’t going to be able to check up on her and take care of her, and both those things felt as essential as breathing. Fortunately, Presley had enough of her faculties gathered to tell her domineering older brother she wanted me to take her to her apartment. Case looked ready to kill both of us but didn’t argue, because it was obvious Presley wasn’t up to a fight.
I took her home and put her to bed. She slept for nearly ten hours and woke up still shaken and scared. She was surprised I was still there, and I told her repeatedly I wasn’t going anywhere until I was sure she was okay. She kept insisting she was fine, but her actions, and the look in her eyes, told me otherwise. She was having a hard time once again being a victim and the target of such malicious behavior.
“Sure there are other things I could be doing, but what I want to do is take care of you.” I lifted a hand toward her face, biting back a slew of swear words when she flinched. I used my thumb to wipe away a rolling tear and told her, “I need you to let me take care of you right now.”
She was quiet for a heartbeat, then one of her hands wrapped around my wrist as I continued to stroke her soft cheek. “I