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I cowered as near to the wall as I could, and he hesitated in front of me.
“God, Kasha!” Liv gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. I hadn’t seen what I looked like, but I could only imagine with the things caked all over me. “What happened?”
I began rocking again, huddling my head between my knees, my whimpers growing in strength, tightening my chest.
“I can smell Logan on her,” Beckett mumbled, and I covered the fresh bite mark bleeding from my neck.
“Futeacha,” Liv cursed. “I’m going to rip his throat out with my teeth.”
“Stop.” Beckett took another step closer before crouching down. “Kas, can you look at me? You don’t need to talk, just look at me.”
His voice washed over me, the deep, slow words sending calming energy brushing against me. I had come here because Beckett was a physician. He could help me. He could protect me.
My dirt-crusted fingers shook as I finally peeked up. He was almost eye level with me, but still a comfortable distance away.
“Did Logan do this to you?” he whispered. “Just nod yes or no.”
The tears free-fell as I slowly moved my head up and down.
His head fell to his chest, eyes closing as he shook it a few times before looking back up to me. “Can I take a look at you? That’s why you came here, right? So I could patch you up?”
He was right; he knew me so well. But new voices were starting to whisper in the back of my mind; dark, inky voices telling me Beckett could hurt me too, that trust wasn’t worth anything.
I tried my best to ignore them. I tried to fight them, so I nodded yes again.
He reached his hand out to me, and I took it.
“Liv, grab my bag,” he whispered, pulling me to my feet. “And make sure there is a sexual assault kit in there.”
***
Nolan swiped his fingers through his hair, mussing up his bedhead even more. He let out a deep, ominous breath. “I want to say I’m happy someone took care of you, but that just seems so weak and wrong.”
I played with the remnants of my breakfast, tapping a half piece of bacon against my plate. “I understand the sentiment, and I was lucky that even after that, I felt safe to go to Beckett. He made sure to check on me as I healed and helped me figure out my next steps with everything.”
“What do you mean?” Nolan’s brows crinkled.
“He convinced me to report it, to fight.” I swallowed a lump in my throat, bile rising behind it. “But it was a pointless one…”
***
“What do you mean the case has been dismissed?” Beckett growled—he literally growled—at my father, who stood in front of us in Beckett’s office.
“Did I stutter,Ar Dtus?” Father glared at him. “Kasha’s accusations against Logan have been dismissed, and he will be reinstated to his post effective tomorrow.”
No, no no no no…
Was this really happening?
“This is disgraceful!” Beckett slammed his fist against his desk. “The High Faction is supposed to protect its own. We gave you everything necessary to win that trial. Evidence, witnesses, and you’re telling me that wasn’t enough?”
“I’m telling you what Cole, our Varg Tribune, has said.” Father’s face was as hard as stone, not giving away anything. He had always been difficult to read, even to me, but this was different. This wasn’t professionalism.
This was hatred. This was disgust. This was disappointment.
And I could feel it directed not at the situation, but at me.
“Futeacha,” Beckett swore under his breath, although there was no hiding it.
