After hanging up, I poke my head out of the kitchen. “Chaser?”
I motion for him to join me. For some reason, Andrew follows.
Too eager to get to Audrey, I don’t bother telling Andrew to leave when they both join me in the kitchen.
“Uh, Audrey’s in the hospital.”
“Is she okay?” Chaser asks.
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me much.”
“Who’s Audrey?” Andrew asks.
By now, I know he’s impervious to my scowls, so I do the easier thing and answer, “My friend.” My gaze returns to Chaser. “She asked if we can come pick her up.”
“Yeah, I’ll get Garrett’s car.”
“I’ll take you,” Andrew offers. “My truck’s right downstairs.”
I’m torn. Do I want to subject Audrey to an obnoxious man-child when she’s hurt or waste time tracking down Garrett to get his car keys?
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” I ask.
Andrew pulls his keys out of his pocket and waves them at me. “Nope. Let’s go.”
It turns out Andrew was a good choice because he knows his way to the hospital. “Kyle got drunk and totaled his car right after our first album dropped. Spent a lot of time here,” he says almost solemnly.
“I remember reading about that,” Chaser says.
“Yeah, it was totally fucked up.”
He pulls up in front of the Emergency Room, and I hop out. It’s dark, so I don’t notice Audrey sitting on the bench right outside the doors at first.
“Mallory.”
My jaw drops as soon as my gaze lands on her black eye and split lip. “Audrey! What happened?”
She shakes her head, drawing my attention to the angry bruises around her neck. “I can’t. Please.”
“Come here.” I pull her close and gently wrap my arms around her. “Are you okay?”
“No,” she whispers.
“Everything all right?” Chaser’s concerned tone breaks through my confusion.
Audrey pulls away and wipes her cheeks.
“Jesus,” Chaser breathes out. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Audrey?” he insists.
She glances at the hospital doors. “Not now, okay. Please. I need to get out of here.”
“Yeah, all right. Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Chaser helps her into the narrow backseat, and I squeeze in next to her.
“Oh shit, were you in an accident?” Andrew asks, watching us from the rearview mirror.
Audrey aims a who-the-fuck-is-this expression my way.
“Audrey, this is our friend, Andrew. He offered to drive…” My voice trails off, it really doesn’t matter.
“Thank you, Andrew,” Audrey whispers.
“No problem.” He glances at Chaser. “Where we headed?”
Chaser turns to speak to Audrey. “You want to go home?”
“Please.”
Chaser gives him the address, which turns out, isn’t far from Andrew’s place.
Once we’re on the move, Audrey leans her head on my shoulder and quietly sobs. I wrap her up in my arms, trying not to squeeze her too tight. “Please tell me what happened,” I whisper. “Did Doug—”
“No.” Her sharp whisper prompts Chaser to glance over his shoulder, but he doesn’t speak. “Please. I don’t want him to know.”
“Okay but what happened?”
“A client. A regular. He’s always been…rough. But never like this.” She sniffles, and I don’t have anything to wipe the tears off her cheeks but my T-shirt. She winces at the contact and pushes my hand away “I only met with him because the agency insisted I tell him I was quitting in person. And he just lost it.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m so choked up from the resignation and pain in her voice I don’t know what else to say.
We pull into her driveway, and I help her into the house, depositing her on the couch. “Do you want me to make some tea?”
She nods.
Andrew and Chaser followed us into the house. I’m trying to think of a tactful way to ask Andrew to wait outside. Having a stranger in her home after whatever happened to Audrey can’t be helping. Thankfully, he’s quiet for once, observing everything from a darkened corner of the living room.
“Audrey, I couldn’t overhear everything you guys were talking about,” Chaser says.
“Good. You weren’t supposed to.” She pulls a blanket around her, up to her chin.
From the kitchen, I watch Chaser shifting from foot to foot. Agitated but trying to be calm. I fill her tea kettle and set it on the stove.
“Chaser,” I call.
Ignoring me, he squats down in front of Audrey and takes her hand. “Please tell me what happened.”
“Why? So you can tell me it’s my own fault?”
He ignores her defensiveness and keeps his voice gentle. “Did someone do this to you?”
She glares at him. “No, I walked into a wall. Several of them.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She turns her head away from his pleading eyes.
I return to the living room and pull one of the chairs closer to the couch. “Did you talk to the police?”
She snorts, then winces. “Whores can’t be victims.”
Chaser’s jaw tightens.
“Audrey.” I squeeze her hand. “Let’s talk to someone else then. I’ll go with you.”
“It won’t matter. It never does.”
“Audrey,” Chaser says, “Where did this happen?”
“At the Palm. A worker heard me screaming and…interrupted. Otherwise, I’d probably be dead.” She coughs, and her face contorts with pain. “Poor guy probably got fired for his troubles,” she wheezes.