Page 2 of Contention
She’s too tired for this and Kara’s head is pounding. Her jaw aches, making her neck feel stiff, hard to move. Her night wasn’t supposed to end this way.
As if speaking to a child, Kara rolls her eyes up towards the ceiling, counting the cracks.Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t lose your temper.“I’m an associate at Benson & Clarke. I’m not being facetious when I tell you that I have no idea why I’m here or why you’re questioning me.”
Detective Wellis makes a scribble on his notepad. His eyes rise up to hers once more, something alight there. Interest. Like a hound catching the scent of prey. “You’re a lawyer?”
Kara doesn’t like the way that fact seems to interest him. “An associate. Why does that matter?”
He shrugs. “Just interesting. You certainly ended up in the wrong side of town tonight.”
Narrowing her eyes at him, Kara says guardedly, “You said other people have been ‘roughed up’. If that’s the case, you don’t need me. Lastly, Iwasn’tattacked.”
Kara isn’t a victim, not some sniveling girl that can’t take care of herself. This is stupidity, absolutely offensive. Sherefuseswhat they’re telling her.
“Miss Hayes, it would really help us if you would cooperate.”
How many times does she need to tell this guy to use her name? “Why do I need to cooperate over something that I don’t even recall? You’re wasting your time.” There’s a reason she went into law. Kara loves a fight and she loves hostility.
There’s a certain thrill to it, being in an argument, the way her blood pounds and her heart races. The fight is all about the struggle. It’s all she’s ever known.
In fact, her last relationship had ended with her boyfriend calling her a ‘contentious bitch’.
And, perhaps the relationship before that too. The therapist she saw years ago would have frowned with disappointment, would have told Kara that her taste for aggression isn’t healthy. That she’s been holding on to the past. That she’s letting the past rule her. Well, too bad.
Detective Wellis’s lips pull downward stiffly. He leans forward in his chair and the scent of him carries over to Kara. Citrus, smoke, and a hint of sweat. His dark eyes are tired and Kara gathers that he’s been working long hours already.
She admires a hard worker. It’s a quality she’s always held tightly to herself. Work keeps her distracted from all the things she doesn’t want to think about. Which, is a lot of things. A lot ofuncomfortablethings.
Something in the back of her mind nags at her. A blur. Strange lights. The clink of a belt buckle. The scent of cologne far above her pay grade. Kara refrains from biting her broken lip and pushes the thoughts away before the detective sees a change in her demeanor.
Nothing happened to you. Just go home and wipe this night away.
“Miss Hayes. I get you’ve had a rough night. I can see that you’re a strong young lady, but you don’t need to pretend here. Not with me. I’m on your side. The other girls won’t talk because they don’t consider themselves credible…due to their line of…work. Most are happy with the money they’ve been given and went along with it willingly. We really need your help.”
The female detective remains leaning against the wall, eyeing Kara in a discerning manner. “Ray, she doesn’t fit the MO. We’ve never had someone who could actually be considered credible in a court of law. It’s always been working girls, because he pays them for what he wants to do. He’s just a good paycheck to most of those women. Rough, but a paycheck.”
“You aren’t helping.” Detective Wellis, Ray, shifts in his seat to look at his partner with a scowl. “What if Miss Hayes was a mistake? She could be the one.”
Cologne that reeks of money. Spice. Sweet tobacco. A firm hand on her jaw. Warm, controlling.
The sharp memory makes something twist in Kara’s gut uncomfortably. She mentally repeats her mantra thatnothing happenedand moves half out of the hospital bed. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Where is the doctor? I need to check out of this place before they bill me an arm and a leg over this split lip.”
“Miss Hayes, please-”
“I have nothing to tell you. Get me my doctor so I can get out. I’m not suing anyone over this split lip.I’ll live.”
She’s had worse than a split lip before. It takes more than this to break her.
With an exasperated sigh, the female detective leans outside the room and calls for the doctor. Moments later, an older woman enters the room, holding a chart. “Good to see you awake, Miss Hayes. How are you feeling?”
Kara doesn’t have time for niceties. She’s always found them to be false anyway; it isn’t like anyone actuallycares. “Am I okay? Sound to go home?”
The doctor glances at her chart and sighs. “You are. Nothing is broken. You were roughed up. Some bruising along your jaw. From…well I’d speculate being grabbed. You also had drugs in your system.”
Ah, yes. The club. Kara remembers being out with Bianca. Remembers the moment she realized that someone had probably spiked her drink. How she’d pulled Bianca aside, dizzy, fading, telling her that something was wrong.
“I think someone put something in my glass.”
Bianca had smiled drunkenly, wide and with far too many teeth. “Oh, shtaap. It’s just the alcohol talking. You know it’s because you’re a lightweight! Get loose, Lord knows you need to.”
