Read Fighting Back (Mercy's Angels) for Free Online

up, the bright cloudless day shone through the window, filling the small room I had staye d in. Charlie handed me some clean clothes and Mercy helped me get changed in the bathroom. He had packed me freakin’ sweats to wear! The man clearly didn’t know me at all. Nevertheless, I didn’t have the energy to argue, and really, the bruised, bloody mess that stared back at me from the mirror was tragic. Pretty clothes were not going to lessen the bruises or make the nightmares of the previous night go away. When Mercy pulled me back into the hospital room, Frank was standing by Charlie, and his sorrowful expression turned my way. I knew he had questions, and the least I could do was attempt to answer them. That’s what a self-reliant, strong woman would do, right? I gave his silent questioning gaze a brisk nod and sat down on the side of the bed. Mercy thankfully stayed close and continued to hold my hand.
    “How bout we start at the beginning. Tell me what you were up to last night before you went to bed,” Frank suggested.
    I almost snorted a laugh. God, he was going to love this, all three of them would. “I had a date,” I murmured huskily. It would have been kinda hot, like Demi Moore hot, if the circumstances of how it came to be this way had been different. I had literally screamed my voice away. Charlie raised a brow but said nothing.
    “With who?” asked Frank.
    I would give anything not to answer this, embarrassment was about to come my middle name. Wow, did I really care? I had just been assaulted in my own home, in my own bed. I had been hit, touched, and a man had attempted to rape me. Did I really care how pathetic my extra-curricular activities had become? “Luke Hollywell.”
    Frank and Mercy did well to contain their surprise. Charlie not so much.
    He groaned loudly and shook his head. “Luke Fucking Hollywell?” he growled.
    “Charlie!” snapped Mercy. Both of us pinned him with a death glare. I guess if my face didn’t look like it had been through a round with Mike Tyson, mine might have been as intimidating as Mercy’s.
    “How did the date go?” Frank ignored Charlie. If he could I could.
    I turned my attention back to Frank. “About how you would imagine. The guy is a walking, talking, self-absorbed ass.” It was Frank’s turn to raise a brow, but before he could say anything, I added, “I left before we even ordered, I told him I felt sick.”
    “How did Luke take that?” he asked. 
    I shrugged. I really didn’t think he cared one way or the other. “There was a certain amount of disbelief, but I’m sure he wasn’t too fazed.”
    “He didn’t get angry, make any threats?” Frank was fishing.
    I knew Luke hadn’t done this. He might have been a loser who was renowned for causing trouble at clubs and bars, but hurting women was not Luke’s style. He liked women, he had a certain reputation as a man who loved to pleasure women; he didn’t need to take it by force.
    “No, Frank, he wasn’t angry, he didn’t even break a sweat.” Frank scribbled furiously in a little notebook held in the palm of his hand. He peered over the glasses that were perched low on his nose.
    “Did Luke leave with you?”
    “No, I left him sitting there. He probably ordered dinner and ate before he left.”
    “What time was this?” Frank glanced up from his notebook.
    “I bailed at around eight. I was home and in bed before nine.”
    Frank nodded. “The 911 call came through at two-fifteen this morning,” he continued. I just sat and stared, feeling suddenly disconnected from the conversation, from this room. This is where things went to shit, this was where my heart began to pound and my mouth became dry. Reaching for the glass of water, I raised it to my lips and winced when the glass brushed the cut there. “Tell me what happened. Did you hear the window break?” I shook my head. It was a known fact amongst my small circle of friends that when Rebecca’s head hit the pillow, nothing