Chapter 5

Thirty minutes later, the song of my tribe's footsteps clicking down the hall toward my room met my ears. Dax gave me a funny look, and I laughed. He was trying to decide whether to make a break for it or stay put and see what happened. Rachel led the pack. As soon as she stomped through the open door and caught sight of me-ignoring the looming man in our midst-her face went flat.

"Jesus Christ, Cameron Pierce! What the hell happened to you?"

"Fucking A, Rachel. Have some tact!" Piper popped up. She was the oldest of the group-although, only by a couple of years. I envied her. Everything about her screamed perfection, but she was completely immune to it.

"Would you two shut up? Check out the man candy. Who the hell is this, Cam?" Charlotte, better known to us as Charlie, was as lesbian as the day was long, but she appreciated the male form as much as the rest of us. All four girls turned to Dax, who stood at their acknowledgment.

"Dax Cooper," he said, introducing himself to my friends.

The only one who hadn't spoken was Sutton, but her eyes hadn't left the stranger since she'd noticed him. Sutton was protective, and by protective, I meant she would take down anyone, male or female, who threatened the happiness of any one of us. She was sincerely loyal, and the best friend anyone could ask for. I watched her take in Dax-she sized him up, not just his appearance, but his purpose, his intent. She wouldn't let him into the fold easily.

"Sutton," I warned, breaking the intensity that smothered the room. "Back down."

Dax looked over at me, steering all attention in my direction.

"Girls, this is Dax. Remember the delivery guy I told you about who's friends with Julie?"

Rachel, always the imminent flirt, piped up. "What the hell were you thinking, Cam? He's sex on a stick. Why in the world were you a mega bitch to this hottie?"

Dax grinned. He was in his element and obviously enjoyed having women fawn over him. He absorbed their attention, yet surprisingly, he didn't return it. He was polite, but his focus remained on me. He didn't know my friends and made no bones about showing he didn't trust them.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Piper rolled her eyes, and Rachel stuck her tongue out at her in return.

Sutton ignored the bullshit going on around her and leaned in on her target. "Why are you here?" Her glare could have bored holes through Dax.

He never faltered. His confidence wasn't shaken. "I've been with Cam since the police found her. If I had known any of your names, I would've gotten in touch with you sooner."

The storm in Sutton's eyes brewed from a category two to four. She wasn't mad at Dax, per se; she was scared, and her fear manifested itself into anger.

"Sutton..." I warned again.

"You and I are going to talk. Soon." She threatened Dax, but instead of brushing her off, he folded his arms across his chest and nodded his acceptance of her not-so-polite invitation.

Piper tried to rein everyone back in to what she felt was the issue at hand-the one that mattered in her mind. "What happened, Cam? We've been worried sick. No one could reach you. You haven't been home-although I've been by to feed your cats every day. When we called the office, some random girl answering your line said you were on an unexpected business trip. But I couldn't imagine you not letting any of us know."

I didn't have the strength to say the words. I couldn't admit what had happened to myself, much less to my friends. There was no way to tell the people I loved that someone had violated me in every way imaginable, and then even more that weren't. Dax lowered himself to crouch next to the bed where he could whisper into my ear and asked me if I wanted him to give them the clinical version. I barely nodded and took note of the shock on my friends' faces when Dax began to speak for me. As long as they'd known me, I'd never allowed a man that freedom.

"Cam was raped and beaten eight days ago. She's been in a medically-induced coma until early this morning."

I couldn't distinguish all the questions thrown at Dax and the looks tossed in my direction. The utter chaos was exactly what I was unable to handle. But a gentle squeeze to Dax's hand let him know I was overwhelmed.

"Ladies, you're going to have to-"

"We left you that night." Sutton's whisper was somehow more powerful than Dax's domineering voice. "You were waiting for a cab. And we left you." She lifted her eyes to meet mine. Her voice was laced with the pain she tried to hide.

"Oh no, Sutton, don't do that. I told you guys to go. You didn't have anything to do with it."

The room was so silent a feather would have whistled in the air as it moved toward the floor.

I didn't know what else to say-they weren't to blame. I listened with a heavy heart as Dax gave them the G-rated version of what had happened, at least regarding my injuries, and what the police assumed had taken place based on the condition they'd found my body. I knew I would have to give a statement, but at this point, no one had mentioned it, and I sure as hell had no interest in rehashing it.

Roughly thirty minutes later, my posse unwillingly left me with Dax so I could rest. The relief their departure brought surprised me. They were everything to me, my comfort on the darkest of days, but for whatever reason, as a whole, they'd been too much-they were exhausting. I wanted to lie back in silence with Dax who'd proven he would just sit with me without expectation.

As I reclined against the comfort of the fluffy pillows, he sat in the chair at my side. I turned my head in his direction and smiled weakly. He responded by cupping my cheek in his hand and gently stroking my skin with his calloused thumb. Then lightly kissing my bruised lips, he encouraged me to sleep. "Close your eyes, kitten. I'll be here when you wake up."

I was asleep before my eyes completely shut.

The next couple of days were more of the same-my friends visited separately, nurses and doctors flowed in and out, and Dax remained loyal. Julie brought him clothes, and he showered in the en-suite bathroom, but he only left the room to get food from the cafeteria. The two of us had spent countless hours talking about nothing. He hadn't pressed or even asked for information about that horrific night. We were just content to spend our time getting to know each other. And Julie was right-he was an incredible man. But my favorite part of our time together were the nightly serenades to woo me to sleep with the sound of his voice and guitar.

Last night, the doctor informed us the hospital would discharge me this morning after I gave my statement to the police. I hadn't slept worth a damn in my apprehension-the thought of reliving the incident was reprehensible and more than I could handle. I had managed to avoid details like the plague inside my protected bubble of a hospital room. I worried all night long-tossing and turning-and foolishly believed my crying had been silent until the mattress dipped.

I had turned away from Dax to ensure I didn't wake him, but he seemed to have a sixth sense in regards to my needs. My body stiffened when I felt his weight shift the bed. The heat from his skin warmed me when he gently slid his arm under my head. Then his other crossed my hip and pulled me to him with tender care. There was nothing sexual about it-it wasn't intimate-just comfort I settled into like a warm bath.

He tucked my head into the nook of his shoulder and whispered into my ear, "I know you're scared, kitten, but I've got you. We'll get through tomorrow morning, and then each day after that. You're not alone."

The words he breathed against my hair opened the floodgates, and body-wracking shudders moved me in his embrace as I sobbed into the night. My anxiety had skyrocketed, and I couldn't catch my breath. I relived the attack mentally, every detail played through my mind-crystal clear as though I were watching it unfold in front of me. Regardless of how hard I kicked and screamed, Dax never wavered. He simply kept whispering, reminding me of his presence, in an attempt to soothe my soul. Desperate to turn off the technicolor of memories, I nuzzled into his chest and buried my face in his fortress, where I exhaled the experience through gut-wrenching sobs as he stroked my back in reassurance. I fell into a deep sleep locked in his embrace, which was how the nurse found us when she came in with the policemen to take my statement.

"Cameron, the officers are here to talk to you. Do you want us to step out for a minute so you can get dressed?" The nurse was sweet, and obviously, this wasn't her first rodeo. I told her yes as Dax started to wake. It was the first time I'd noticed what nearly two weeks locked in a hospital had done to him physically. The weariness hung on his face, and darkness hovered around his eyes. His looming presence had softened and the hard edges had almost completely worn away. He wiped the sleep away and ran his fingers through his hair but didn't make a move to release me.

He looked down his nose at me and grinned. "Morning, baby. You want me to stay with you while you do this?"

I desperately wanted him with me-not just now. I couldn't stand the thought of Dax letting me go-his arms were like a security blanket, an impenetrable fortress. But I also didn't want him to know the gory details of what a stranger had done to my body. I couldn't bear the thought of his witnessing the weakness that had overcome me. I hadn't given in to them until last night, and even that was under a cloak of darkness. I needed him to think I was stronger than I was, just as much as I needed him to stay. In the end, my pride took over.

"I'll be okay, Dax. When we walk out of here today, I have to be able to go back to my life where I'm on my own. This is the first step toward doing that."

His nose scrunched, and his brow furrowed like I'd just slapped him. "What are you talking about? What life are you going back to on your own?"

"Dax, I can't thank you enough for being here with me, but you have a job. I have a job. We both have friends and separate lives. I don't expect you to give yours up to nurse me back to reality." I stood to find the bag of clothes Sutton brought the day before and went to the bathroom. "I'm going to shower. Will you let them in after you change clothes?"

"This conversation is not over, Cameron. You and I are going to talk when they leave."

I shrugged him off just after I cringed at his use of my full name. I should have known nothing with Dax Cooper could ever be simple.

After I'd gotten out of the quickest shower I had ever taken, I realized I had nothing to dry my hair with, no styling products, no makeup, nothing but clothes. I twirled my damp, copper-colored hair into a knot on top of my head and put on the jeans and T-shirt Sutton chose. Leave it to her-she always ignored pomp and circumstance in favor of simplicity. Utilitarian should have been her middle name-comfort over fashion. I loved that about her, but I felt naked without my armor. Putting myself together in my morning routine gave me a layer of protection. Today, I was bare, but I guess I had been for weeks. Dax hadn't retreated, and he'd seen me completely exposed-every ugly wart and scar. The revelation that I even cared what Dax thought about seeing me dressed so casually stunned me. But the voices on the other side of the door withdrew me from that notion, and I knew I had to emerge. I took a deep breath to calm myself before I faced the officers and Dax.

"Baby, come here. I'd like you to meet my friends." Dax's smile stopped me in my tracks.

Two men turned in my direction to see what their friend was staring at. They took me in with endearing glances as if they were finally seeing one of Dax's long-lost lovers they'd been dying to meet. My heart skipped a beat before he held his hand out and walked in my direction. Somehow, he'd managed to pull this together, knowing his friends would put me at ease because he trusted them. My face blushed with his thoughtfulness.

Once he laced his arm around my waist, he turned to the other men, introducing each. "This is Fisher, and his partner, Jackson."

I hadn't heard Jackson's name before, but I knew Dax and Fisher were close and had been since Jeremy's death. Fisher had been the cop on the scene of that accident as well, and they'd formed an instant bond.

Fisher's rugged man-beauty was captivating in a masculine way. He stood just as tall as Dax, which I guessed was roughly six-four, with dark, virtually jet-black hair. But his face was full with the sweetest brown eyes, and he lacked the rigid angles in his features that would have made him appear hard. It was obvious he worked out as often as Dax-he was broad everywhere.

Jackson, on the other hand, was harsh with striking, severe qualities. He didn't have the height Dax and Fisher did, but those couple inches he lacked didn't deter from how handsome-or intimidating-he was. When he opened his mouth to say hello, I immediately softened to him. His voice was like butter, not margarine-it was the lush, calorie-ridden, fattening, robust butter. It filled the room and was all man but in a melt-my-heart kind of way. I would never be able to spend a lot of time around this group of guys-they'd spell disaster for me. They were beautiful, and it would be easy to fall prey to the shield of protection they offered.

I refused to allow myself to become dependent on anyone again.

I didn't extend my hand, but neither seemed offended. Maybe they knew I didn't want to be touched. I cringed every time a nurse or doctor reached for me and could only stand it if Dax had my hand at the same time. It was a silent reassurance that no one could hurt me if he were near. But even with his arm clutching my waist, I couldn't offer the simple gesture of a handshake, so I raised my hand in a weak wave. Dax kissed me on the side of the head and released me from his embrace.

"I'll wait outside."

I tried to give him a smile, but it fell short. He saw my apprehension and hesitated before he retreated to the hall.

Fisher motioned for me to sit, but to do so, I had to move past him and Jackson. My heart raced as I slipped farther back into the shadows, shaking my head in response to his simple request. He looked confused but didn't argue; instead, he talked while Jackson took notes.

"Cameron, do you remember anything about what happened the night you were attacked?"

I nodded but didn't respond.

"I know this is going to be difficult, but we can't take a statement without words. We'll start with yes or no questions, okay?"

"Yes," I croaked. My hands shook, and my pulse raced faster with each moment I was alone with these two. I feared a heart attack was inevitable if I didn't calm myself.

"Do you remember anything about that night?" he asked again.

"Yes."

"Were you at Cue Balls before the incident?"

"Yes."

"The bartender said you and your friends closed the place down, and you called a cab when you left around two in the morning. He also stated there were four other women with you. I'm assuming that was Piper, Sutton, Charlie, and Rachel. Is that correct?"

"Yes." So far this wasn't hard. These were basic questions though, and I knew we'd reach a point where I had to utter more than one syllable. That time came faster than I had anticipated.

"What happened when you left the building?"

"I went to the bathroom after they left since I had to wait for the cab. It was supposed to pick me up on Main Street. I went out the side door. I guess because it was the door my friends had left through."

I was rambling but figured they'd take whatever came out and piece it together anyhow.

"As soon as the door shut, I tried to go back in, but it had locked behind me. It was really dark-there was no light. I walked along the wall of the building and could hear footsteps in the gravel that weren't mine..." My voice trailed off as I went back in my mind. "I tried to walk faster, but my ankle turned, and he was on me. I screamed, but he covered my mouth when he grabbed me."

The details were picture perfect in my head, but they weren't translating into useful words.

"I fought with him; I swear I did." The sobs seemed to belong to someone else. I could hear them, but it was as if I was listening to someone else cry from a distance. "I kicked at him, kneed him, elbowed him, everything I could think of, but the harder I fought, the more he punished me."

"What do you mean punished you?" Fisher asked calmly. "I need any details you can provide."

"My hands were bound with something behind my back, and he kept my mouth covered, using it as leverage when he grabbed my hair to slam my head into the bricks. He punched me in the face-like he was fighting with another man."

The random pieces fell from my mouth in waves of mutilation.

"He ripped off my bra and blouse. Discarded my skirt. The only things I still had on were my heels and my...my panties," I stuttered as I watched Fisher and saw anger flood his face.

The fury that lingered just below the surface of his features frightened me, but I wasn't sure why. He was here to help, but I stepped backward toward the bathroom door. And he inched closer. With each step I took away, he closed the gap. But in my hasty retreat, my back hit the door-like a brick wall.

The rip of the lace tore through my memory like a trumpet blasting in my ear. I squeezed my eyes closed as tightly as possible, and a scream roared from my throat. All the pain came rushing out as I shrieked, "Dax!"

I fell to the floor, curling protectively into a ball, crying hysterically, shaking-repeating his name under my breath. I called to him as if he could have been my savior and I could rewrite history.

Suddenly, I was off the ground, surrounded by his arms with one under my knees and the other around my back, pushing my head into his neck. His scent was so comforting I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was him-his smell had become part of me over the last two weeks in this room.

His voice boomed in the small space around us. "What the fuck did you say to her, Fisher? You were supposed to be gentle. She hasn't been like this since she woke up!" His rage should've provoked fear, but instead, it calmed me to know he was on the verge of kicking his friend's ass in my defense.

I continued shaking in his arms as he sat down with me in his lap.

Fisher came back at him much calmer than I anticipated. "Dax, take it easy. You being hysterical isn't going to help. She's been through a traumatic situation, and she's not going to come out of it unscathed."

"Goddammit, Fisher, what'd you say to her?" He rocked me slowly in his lap on the bed as if I couldn't hear them talking.

"I have to ask what happened, and she has to attempt to give us her side. I can't keep him forever without her statement. You know that. We've talked about it repeatedly over the last two weeks."

"I knew I shouldn't have left the room. Fuck, Fisher."

Staring at Dax, I stammered, "You...you know who did this to me?"

Dax glanced to Fisher as if seeking permission to tell me something he knew. Fisher nodded in agreement.

"The bartender was going to his car in the parking lot after his shift and found the guy on top of you. He ripped him off and started pummeling his face. He screamed for help, and a co-worker called nine-one-one while the bartender beat the guy down. The waitress who called nine-one-one brought towels out from the bar to cover you until the police arrived, and she stayed with you until I got there. I never saw the guy who attacked you, kitten. I still haven't seen him. He'd be dead if I'd reached him first."

There was no doubt in my mind Dax would have murdered the guy with his bare hands-not just for me, but for any woman who endured what I'd been through. That was just the man he was.

I had calmed in his arms listening to him when Fisher asked, "Cameron, did you try to hurt him?"

"Of course. I kicked, punched, anything I could do."

"Anything else?" He was hesitant in his question, and Dax looked thoroughly confused. He was leading me to something, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Yes. My teeth. His neck." The pieces weren't coming together in a coherent thought. "I bit down on his neck...the left side."

Fisher smiled.

"What are you grinning about?" Dax asked in a pissed-off, alpha tone.

"She bit the shit out of him, Dax. When I say bit him, she took an enormous chunk of flesh from the left side of his neck. Like she bit down on him until her teeth met." Fisher looked toward me. "You've got fight, girl. You're gonna make it through this. Let Dax help you."

He asked me a few more questions before telling me I needed to come to the police station to identify the guy. Even though I never really saw his face, Fisher assured me it would be easy enough to pick out the guy with a large bandage above his shoulder. And apparently, most of his face wasn't all that recognizable anyhow-the bartender had done a number on him.

"Don't worry, Cameron. Between what you're able to tell us, the DNA on his neck and around your mouth, and his sperm recovered from you in the ER, he's not going to see freedom for a long time."

"Wait, no, Fisher, I don't want to press charges!" I became hysterical again.

"What are you talking about, Cam?" Dax, bless his heart. He just didn't know the me outside these walls.

"If I press charges, there will be a court case, and it will make the media. My reputation in the business world will be destroyed. I'll lose my job, the confidence my colleagues have in me, the respect of my employees. Absolutely not. No charges."

"You've got to be shitting me, Cameron!" Dax's voice boomed in my ear, and there was the use of my full name again.

Pulling myself out of his lap, I retreated from the three men. "No! No charges."

Fisher stepped forward, but I held my hand up, silently telling him not to come closer. He stopped moving but started talking. "Cameron, I urge you not to do this. He will do this to another woman."

"Cam! You. Will. Press. Charges." He enunciated each word, making them individual sentences to emphasize he wasn't playing. This was not a request-this was a demand. And Dax was going Dom on me...or so he thought.

"No, Dax, I will not. Fisher, if there's anything else you need from me, I'll get a new phone today, and you should be able to reach me at the number I gave you. Now, if you all will excuse me, I'd like to get my stuff together, call my friends, and go home."

Fisher and Jackson said goodbye after telling me if they didn't hear from me in the next twenty-four hours, they would have to release my attacker-unless the state picked up the charges. And then they both walked out.

Dax, however, did not.

"You are not calling your friends. They are not taking you home. You are coming home with me."

I laughed.

I couldn't control it.

I clutched my stomach, doubled over.

And fell to my knees, laughing until I cried. The tears turned to sobs-the emotional roller coaster refused to pull back into the corral to let me off.

Once again, Dax scooped me from the floor. "This is why you're not going home alone." He held me to his massive chest while he stroked my head, careful to avoid the land mines of injuries. When I had let out all the emotion I could possibly release in one sitting, his eyes met mine.

"You ready to get out of here?"

I relented.

He was the only person I felt safe with right now, and I didn't have the strength to argue.

With the discharge instructions and paperwork from the nurse on duty, Dax took my hand and led me through the hospital doors. The sun was blinding, but I had never seen anything as breathtaking in my life. The crystalline-blue sky was dotted with a few whiffs of clouds. The sun shone a powerful white, taunting me to look at it but forcing me to turn my eyes away from its agonizing beauty. Dax let me enjoy the sting of the light for a moment before he captured my face in his hands and kissed me in a slow and unobtrusive kiss-just Dax being Dax. It lasted just long enough for me to realize there was an attraction for him that now frightened me, whereas before, it was simply an irritant.