Was she getting the message through. An air of scepticism still lingered.
Alle rubbed her eyes. “All right, I can see the lay of things. You want answers to where the marks on me came from. Fine, I’ll tell you. They’re not from the fall, but they’re not signs of abuse or an attack either.”
Christ this was excruciating.
“I happen to like rough sex and being spanked. I’m sure you’re familiar enough with the concepts. If it leaves a mark, even better. As it happens, it was my boyfriend’s birthday yesterday, so we’d been celebrating. Celebrating by having rough sex. Which was awesome, by the way, and entirely consensual. So, there’s the explanation for any anomalies with my clothing, or traces of… of particular substances you might have found. Is that a complete enough explanation for you?”
She waited for a response, only for her explanation to be met with raised brows and a disquieting silence.
“What? Is it a crime now to enjoy a bit of bdsm? I mean, you can arrest me for public indecency if you like given I engaged in sex out-of-doors. Actually, is that even illegal? I thought that was only the case if more than two people were likely to witness it, and we were alone on a private island.”
Still nothing but goldfish faces.
Okay, she was really done with this charade now. Fuck being trapped in a boxy cupboard. Fuck waiting to be wheeled out. And fuck waiting for someone to give her permission to get on with her life and live it as she saw fit.
Alle stood.
The officers stood too.
“Are we done? Because this is really frickin’ embarrassing, and I’d really like to leave now.”
Was Spook’s absence from her bedside due to accusations he’d had hurled at him? If Marshall’s smack talk had resulted in Spook even being questioned about hurting her, never mind chopping her brother into itty bitty pieces, she’d hang, draw and quarter him.
“Yes, of course, you’re free to go. You’ve never been under any obligation to talk to us.”
“Hm.”
The pair of them offered her stiff smiles and stepped out of her way. The shorter woman held the door open for her.
“Allegra. Please, take this.” She slipped a business card into Alle’s hand.
The card listed the number for the sexual assault liaison team. Marvellous. Bloody marvellous. Alle marched straight for the nurses’ station, rather than her bedspace.
“Something I can help you with?” The nurse behind the desk on the computer asked.
“Yeah,” Alle said. “I want this canula out of my hand, and a cab to take me home. And we can fill in actual discharge paperwork, or I can just walk out of here. Also, I don’t need this card.” She tucked it into a display rack full of information leaflets.
-30-
Allegra
Twenty minutes later, Alle sat in a plastic chair, still barefoot, and still wearing nothing but a hospital gown, holding an information sheet on how to manage her recovery so she didn’t accidentally dislocate her shoulder again. She was waiting on a prescription being signed off before she could leave. While the snail’s pace at which everything ran continued to frustrate her, decent pain relief did sound like something worth hanging around for.
The buzzer for the door to the ward rang.
“I’m here to see Allegra Hutton, please,” a woman’s voice said. “I believe she’s in bed six.”
“Was,” Alle said, heart lifting with hope. “That’s me. She’s here for me.”
“Wait for the click, then push the door,” the nurse responded.
“Ginny, thank God!” Alle covered her face with her hands, relief coursing through her. “Where’s Spook? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, Alle. He’s waiting with Ash. They won’t let him in.”
Ten thousand questions escaped her all at once.
Ginny held up her hands. “I can explain, or you can get changed and go see him.” She held out a shopping bag. “I didn’t know your size, sorry. Apologies in advance if I’ve got it totally wrong and over-estimated. I think you’re gorgeous, I’m just…” She gave a shrug.
