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“Time to wake up, Kota.”

All I get is a groan.

The light’s not bothering her. I’m not bothering her. I try clapping once, but that doesn’t bother her either.

Does she know it’s me?

“Kota. It’s me, Khaos. Here. In your room.”

This gets zero reaction.

Back beside her bed, I lean down to brush more hair off her face, whispering, “Look, Silver. I need you to wake up for me, okay? It won’t take long, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Her chin lifts a fraction but that’s it. No other acknowledgement that I’m right here, talking to her, touching her.

She’s not leaving me any other choice here.

I start with her top half, checking any visible skin for marks. She’s wearing a bikini top, so there’s a lot of skin. None of it bruised or scratched thankfully.

Shaking, my hands hover above the two triangles of material. The top is still in place, which is good, but that doesn’t mean anything.

“Did anyone touch you here?” I ask her, praying she answers me so I don’t have to find out for myself. This is not how I wanted to see Kota’s most private parts for the first time.

Her chest rises and falls steadily, no hint of waking up.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her before lifting one, then the other as quickly as possible. No teeth marks, no scratches, nothing.

I blow out a choppy breath. If I’m being this invasive and she’s not so much as stirring, who knows what someone else could’ve done.

Goddamn it!

“I’m sorry,” I repeat.

Air pouring in and out of my nose, I lift Kota’s blanket with one hand while pulling her bottoms an inch away from her skin with the other. I try not to look too far down, just low enough to search for any red marks or puddles—wet or dried—in the area. As fast as I can, I rub a knuckle against the crotch of her bottoms.

Dry. Thank fuck.

“You’re really fucking lucky, you know that?” I say to the side of her face, turning the fear into something I’m much more familiar with—anger. “You don’t even realize. You have no fucking clue.” I know girls that have been raped at parties. Outside of pedophiles that keep it in the family, parties are the top place rapes happen. There were people right outside her door when I came home. Any one of them could’ve come in here and—

Fuck. Fuck!

I drop my head to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper the apology again and again, not just for having to check her over but for not being here sooner. If I would’ve seen her drunk, I would’ve made sure she was safe.

Beneath me, Kota goes stiff as a board and her breathing intensifies.

“That woke you up?” Dumb first thing to say. Not very reassuring. “Uh, it’s just me.” That’s probably not much better. “You’re in your room. You got drunk, at the house, and you’re, uh… I found you in here. Alone, during your party.” I can’t help the anger from a moment ago entering my voice.

I soften it to add, “I’m here now though.”

Her eyes remain closed, her lips sealed.

“I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t know you were in here or I would’ve…” I graze her forehead with unsure fingertips. “I got here as soon as I could.”

I’m blessed with the silent treatment.

She’s pissed. I invaded her privacy. I know that. It’s not something I’m proud of but I had to know if someone invaded her and I had to know now, while everyone’s still here.