Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(70)

He gripped her arm and spun her, slamming her against the car. “Not in the mood,” he growled. “Why? Because you’ve been f*cking every Rawlings and all his buddies nonstop for months?”

She hit him, which only made him move back slightly. “You’re drunk!”

He grabbed her hair pulling it to the side as he got in her face. “No, I’m pissed.”

“Clearly, you ass,” she said, going to knee him but he caught her leg then slammed it to the side.

“How many interrogation rooms am I going to be pulled into now?”

“What?”

He picked her up and slammed her back against the car. “Every time you spread your legs for that ass I end up being looked at like a guilty son of bitch—when you’re the murdering whore!”

Her eyes went wide. She had no idea what he was talking about. She knew Providence had pushed on him months back, but he had done so with anyone who had ever looked at Nolan the wrong way.

It didn’t matter what she said, Murdock was too drunk to hear her.

“I covered your ass. I’m your bitch and you think you can just skip f*cking town?”

“Back away,” she yelled, pushing him back.

What happened next was a blur, mainly because she couldn’t comprehend it.

Murdock spun her around, slammed her head against the edge of the car, and once the ringing sensations subsided and she decided she could stay conscious, she felt the night air on her bare ass. He had ripped her jeans down, and right as she screamed, he cupped her face with is forearm.

She bit him, she clawed, but it didn’t stop him.

She felt him take her—thrust inside—and she fought. She kicked and twisted, she clawed, and the more she did the worse it was.

The nightmare was no more than two minutes from start to finish.

The length of time didn’t matter.

What mattered is that a demon had ripped her life to shreds once more.

When she felt him leave her, she slid down the car. He stared down at her like she was trash then reached in his pocket and threw papers down at her.

In a slur he pointed at her. “Those will tell you how much time your murdering ass will serve. Acing criminal justice, baby.”

He was gone then, the tires of his truck barely missing her legs as he left.

She laid there, staring up at the street light in shock, shaking. Scared. Furious. And...broken.

Justice didn’t know what to do but knew no matter what, nothing right was going to come from this.

Nothing.

Her father had been dead for three years and he was still destroying her life.

Declan, his family, someone—their life would be shattered if she told a soul what Murdock did that night. They’d kill him and not give a damn about the consequence. Their life would be over.

She didn’t know if Murdock was smart enough to know that, to know he had locked her into secrecy again. Or if this was nothing more than a drunken, paranoid, jealous rage.

It took her a while, but she pulled herself together. Sitting in her car she cried, and fought for breath and sanity. When she thought she had it, she drove herself to the hospital, the one across town, away from the campus, away from where she knew Dawson worked.

No one ever could know about this. Ever. She had no idea what story she’d tell, but she needed help. Her steps were careful as she approached the deserted emergency room door. Just outside she decided she was cursed, and hot tears prickled her eyes.

Dawson was outside, reading on her phone, hot boxing a cigarette, a habit she only picked up during exam times.

A receptionist at the hospital was one of her jobs. She had a few and was paying her way just like Justice was.

Seeing her there all but told Justice God had a cruel sense of humor and evidently like to teach her the lesson of humility over and over. Justice thought to leave, but the pain she felt and the blood dripping in her eye told her she wouldn’t make it far.

Instead, she dipped her head and hoped whatever book Dawson was scrolling through was interesting enough not to look up from.

Justice made it to the door before she heard her name in the form of a question. A second later, Dawson was at her side. “Son of a bitch,” she said, taking her face and turning it.

“When did you transfer here?” Justice asked, jerking her head away.

“What the f*ck happened?”

Justice looked down. “I need some help, but I can’t report it,” Justice said, feeling her lip tremble.

Dawson’s hazel eyes grew wide with fury.

“He’ll kill him...he’s about to leave,” Justice said in a painful tone.

Dawson shook her head, understanding but not. She knew how hard any deployment was. Adding the weight or fear for those at home to such at thing could be a deadly risk.

But still.

***

Dawson was there during the exam and defended the decision for the police not to be called. But convinced Justice to still allow the rape kit to be done. The doctor was tender and now as she glued the wound on her face shut, the line across her brow, she kept on with her positive praise. “I don’t think this will scar, but if it does, your brow should hide it.”

Her gloved hand tilted Justice’s head to the side to look at her busted lip, and her now swollen cheekbone.

The doctor glanced at Dawson then back at Justice. “Is there a chance, any at all, that before tonight you could be pregnant?”