Gaslighter

12

CHAPTER TWELVE

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2018

         I had to try my hardest not to slip out of consciousness on the way to the hospital. The EMTs riding with me on the back of the ambulance attempted to keep me awake by talking to me, but I still found it difficult to focus in any conversations with the pounding headache I currently had.

          My head was exploding into a million stars, creating my own galaxy, except everything collapsed right after and the lights went out. It was then that I couldn't see anything in front of me, not even the iridescent light above my head, my own personal Big Crunch on a much smaller scale, and I wondered if I'd felt anything when I first hit my head. I couldn't remember a thing that wasn't my desperate need to run out of the door, like I did every time I found myself in a serious situation, and I tried to convince myself it was one of the bravest things I had ever done. I'd fought back and ran off before anything bad happened, regardless of any injuries I'd sustained.

          Then, Chase.

          If it hadn't been for him, probably no one would have tipped off the campus security that there was something shady going on at that party. That, along with the presence of emergency services at the scene thanks to the supposed gas leak, solidified my theory that he really was looking out for me as much as possible, while still keeping a safe distance. He was driving behind the ambulance, something that mortified me, as he surely had much better things to do than waste time at a hospital.

          The reality of my situation began to dawn on me, intensifying whenever my conscious mind was at its clearest. I'd, most likely, have to give a statement to the police about what had happened, as it was easy to assume there had been foul play, considering a stranger had followed me out of the house. Maybe one could argue he was just trying to run out because he, too, feared the gas leak, and it would be his word against mine. Blood tests would, most likely, reveal any sedatives remaining in my body, but I hadn't seen him spike my drink, so it could have been anyone. There was no proof he had tried to take advantage of me, as nothing had happened besides the physical altercation, and he'd point out I was too intoxicated to remember things clearly. Intent could not be proven through words alone.

          No one would ever believe me. That's what had happened to all those other girls; even with proof, it was just circumstantial evidence that could be dismissed or argued against, so all the charges had been dropped.

          As they rolled me inside the hospital, everything became too real. I'd have to get a CT scan to check for a concussion, something my family's insurance covered, but that only meant they'd find out about my hospital stay eventually. I was fortunate to have them pay for so many things, including my health and my education, but that also removed any ounce of privacy I could have.

          Chase's presence made it all slightly more bearable. Though he wasn't allowed in the room while my head was being examined by a machine and I tried my hardest to not shake as much, knowing he was in the building was somewhat comforting. He was living proof I had something to hold on to, in spite of the chaos that surrounded me, my anchor.

          He'd saved my life, as dramatic as that could sound. That was something I'd never be able to repay or properly thank him for. He already had all of me, captured me between his hands, and he had my life, too. That was a tremendous amount of pressure to place on someone's shoulders, a clear reminder of how much I was holding him back, but it wasn't something I took lightly. Even if I couldn't find the words to explain it, even if I wanted to save him from the agony of me being in debt to him, it was a tidal wave of gratitude that washed over me.