Page 40 of Daddy's Treat
It doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that matters is getting Penny to the hospital and getting Carsen, Smith, and whoever the hell else was responsible for this behind bars, so I don’t fucking kill them.
“Coach, the cops are here with an ambulance,” Shepherd says. “They were trying to take Carsen and Smith, but we told ‘em your girl needs it more.”
I nod my thanks. I can’t seem to work words past the Penny sized lump in my throat. I’m probably not supposed to pick her up. The paramedics probably want to take her out on a stretcher, but I can’t stand the thought of that. I lift her into my arms, and her head lolls to the side. She’s utterly limp in my hold.
Baby girl, what did they do to you?
Shepherd and Troy keep the crowd of partygoers back while I carry my girl outside. The paramedics rush to my side and immediately start checking her over. It kills me, but I lay her on the stretcher when one of the paramedics tells me to.
I’m asked dozens of questions that I don’t know the answer to. Allergies. None that I know of. Blood type. I don’t know. Medical conditions. She had asthma as a child. Does she have a history of drug use? No, she’s never even smoked a cigarette. Is she pregnant? No, she’s on the pill. Those are the easy questions…
What happened? What did she take? Was she raped?
Those are the questions that will haunt me for the rest of my days.
At the hospital, I lie when they ask if I’m family. I tell them Penny is my fiancée, so they will let me stay with her. From the tox-screen they ran the doctors determined she was roofied. Based on the bloodwork, the fuckers gave her more than ten times what would be needed to knock a person her size out. They’ve got her on IV fluids and are doing everything they can to flush the drugs out of her system. Which I’ve decided is a fancy way of saying they have no idea when she will wake up.
The nurses ask if there is anyone they should call. I tell them no thank you, that I’d call her parents myself. I find Dr. Theresa Cooper M.D. online and call the number. Of course, it’s for her office, and I’m routed to an answering service since it’s after hours. I tell the nice person who doesn’t deserve my shitty mood to tell her to call if she gives a shit that her daughter is in the hospital.
My phone rings five minutes later with an unknown number. I answer with a terse hello.
“This is Dr. Theresa Cooper. My answering service gave me this number saying that Penelope is in the hospital.”
She doesn’t sound worried at all for her daughter. In fact, she seems put out that her Monday evening has been disturbed. All of the anger I’ve been trying to shove down comes boiling back up again.
This woman deserves some of this anger I’m feeling. If she hadn’t blackmailed her daughter into joining that stupid sorority, none of this would have happened. I tell her as much. And more. I tell her how miserable her daughter has been for the last several weeks that I’ve known her. That her supposed sisters bullied her. I tell her about the maze, and all of the other little things I’ve noticed or that Penny has mentioned.
I even manage to rant about how she’s only working so hard to get into medical school to please them. Her dream is to be a vet. She wants to be a doctor, just not the right kind of doctor for them.
Penny’s mom doesn’t get a single word in. I rant at her, and then I tell her what hospital Penny is in and what her current status is and that I’ve got to get back to her bedside. I hang up before she can say anything.
I feel just a tiny bit better. Not much. But a little.
I’m dozing in the chair beside Penny’s hospital bed when I feel a slight squeeze from the fingers I haven’t let go since I sat down. My eyes fly open, and I breathe for the first time in a million years because Penny’s looking at me with those big green eyes of hers.
She looks around the room in confusion. “Wh-w…”
“Hold on, baby, let me get you some water.” I grab the cup and pitcher from the bedside table and pour her a glass. I open the bendy straw and offer her the drink. She sucks at the straw thirstily. “Slow down, shortcake. Don’t want to make yourself sick.”
“What happened?”
“What do you remember?” I ask, instead of answering. It’s best to find out what she remembers before telling her what I came in on. I wish she never had to know what happened.
“I went to Zeta Tau to get some notes I left there and a few more changes of clothes.”
“And what happened when you got there?”
She looks confused for a minute like she’s pulling the memory from a deep well, and it’s fighting her. “Lucy was there. She called a house meeting… she was holding a vote about an upcoming charity event. Which I thought was weird because we’ve never done anything like that. We did the food drive but Lucy didn’t want anyone’s opinions on how to run it.”
“What happened after the meeting?”
“I—I… I don’t remember. Kade, why don’t I remember?” Her voice has a fearful edge to it, her eyes are wide, and the heart rate monitor is beeping like crazy.
“Did you eat or drink anything at the meeting?”
“What? Why?”
“Just think, Penny. Did you eat or drink anything?”