Unable to draw a deep breath, I took the call and listened as the tech read off each negative result. She did mention that there were still some rather large traces of GHB in my blood, and that it indicated a lot had been used. She also mentioned that if the same dosage had been used on a smaller man or a woman it would have put them into a coma. That was some shit. I didn’t know how to process that other than feeding the anger that was building inside me. That asshole. He had to be stopped before he killed someone.
“All negative, okay, thank you so much,” I told the technician. She said it was her pleasure. I thanked her a few more times, hung up, and cried one more time right into my slaw. Ryker left his seat to gather me close. He was emotional too as I passed along the GHB info. We were both half-mad with relief.
“We’re going to run out of paper towels,” he teased after we gathered ourselves a bit. It took some cold water to the face combined with lots of nose blowing but we returned to our meals, and some cursing when Ryker caught his lip as he wiped himself. “So what the hell did he do when you were out if he didn’t… you know?”
I shrugged, my head so full of outlandish ideas and emotions, I couldn’t concentrate on anything sensible.
“I don’t know. Maybe he just…” I made the hand motion for jerking off. Ryker’s face blanched but he said nothing, just shoved a tender into his mouth as his eyes glittered with fury. “I’m going to call human resources at the college. They have to be made aware of what kind of monster they have roaming around campus.”
“As soon as you’ve finished eating, and you feel… right.”
“I’m not sure I ever will.”
“You will, Jacob, and I’ll be right here with you.”
“I was so stupid. I can’t believe you’d want anything to do with me—”
Ryker spoke right over me. “You said he fired you. That’s just from the Bygenta project, right? I mean, he’s not in charge of any of the other things that go on there. When you talk to HR or the dean or whoever, surely they have to see that you’re the victim in all of this.”
“Yeah, well, I hope so.”
“Well fuck them if they don’t! If they don’t back you up we’ll buy some land off Colorado and build a farm on it! Then you can have cows and grow corn.”
His exuberance and defense of me made my heart swell. “Not sure how well corn grows in sand, but I love that idea. A house, some cows, a dog, a kid or two, and maybe a couple of horses.”
“Oh totes on the horses! We could call one No Name and ride him through the desert.” That made me snort. He grinned across our greasy meal at me. “I’m serious, babe. Whatever happens I am all about you being happy. We’ll make our dreams come true. No creeper is going to stall our future, Jacob.”
And in that moment, I had to trust that Ryker had this all figured out because I sure as hell didn’t. I did trust the man I loved, though.
Eight
Ryker
“Can you tell me why you haven’t gone to the authorities Mr. Benson?”
Jacob and I had spent hours talking this over, but I couldnt force him to make this real by getting the cops involved.
That didn’t stop the head of the college HR department, Lloyd Johnson, from asking. He was a placid man, even at the end of a college day and with a desk full of paperwork. It had been a few days since the assault and Jacob was stoic but shaky, although I think it might only have been me who saw through to the scared man inside. Lloyd shook our hands, asked us to sit, didn’t question when we shut the door. I liked him. We’d met once before at a fundraiser, and he’d had only vague words to say to me about hockey, which he didn’t really watch, but he had said that Jacob was a new star in the department. In my books he rocked, and the way he spoke was calm, matter-of-fact, hell, even now he was sitting there listening, his eye twitching.
“At least you were tested. Can I see the results?” Lloyd asked after a short pause when Jacob had stopped explaining. Jacob had stuck to the simple facts in that he’d gone to Adam’s house for work, drunk something, lost some hours, and had woken to find Adam leering over him and stating all kinds of heinous things. How I kept my cool I didn’t know, but it wouldn’t last long if Adam were to walk in right now because I might just have shoved him into the wall.
Through the wall.
Jacob passed his phone over, and Lloyd scrolled through the information.
“Do you want me to email this on to you?” Jacob asked when Lloyd jotted down some points on a pad and then passed it back.
“Please. If you could do that I would be grateful.” He wrote a few more things and Jacob and I exchanged glances as he cleared his throat and then scribbled something else.
“What next?” I asked when Jacob sat in silence.
“Well, let me get this right. Adam Isaksson called you to attend his private residence to discuss work-related matters. Upon arrival he suggested you change into trunks, and offered you alcohol. You asked about the work and he said that would follow, and then you recall falling over, and then waking up on a sofa in Adam Isaksson’s residence, having lost time that you can’t account for.”
Jacob made a sound I’d never heard before, a mix of exhaustion and distress and embarrassment.
“This is not Jacob’s fault,” I snapped.
Lloyd glanced up from his notes immediately. “Of course it’s not.” He kept his tone even, but with a look he implied I should let him finish, so I subsided into my chair.
What I wanted was the cops, the FBI, and every single NHL enforcer with sticks, hunting down Adam and making him pay for hurting Jacob, but I had to sit on my hands for a moment. I felt sick, and lightheaded, and completely out of control. Jacob and I were walking in a dazed nightmare, where none of this seemed real.
“What do you want me to do?” Jacob asked and reached out to hold my hand.
“You’ve quit the independently funded Bygenta program.”
“Yes.”
“And you physically assaulted Adam.”
“Yes.” Jacob sounded so miserable.
“And the results show that you ingested GHB.”
I didn’t want this list to sound so freaking ordinary—like a goddamn shopping list. “Enough GHB that anyone smaller than Jacob could have ended up in a coma, or worse, dead.”
Lloyd blinked at me, nodded, then added something to his notes.
“You’re aware that the Isaksson foundation is a major benefactor of the college?” he asked.
I’d had enough. Burning with rage, I jumped to my feet. If this asshole was going to choose money over Jacob then we were out of here faster than Tate Collins on a breakaway. “We’re going straight to the fucking police and—”
“Please sit down, Mr. Madsen,” Lloyd said firmly, and even though the scarlet mist had descended there was something about his tone and the fact that Jacob hadn’t moved which cut through the fury.
“It’s okay, Ry.” Jacob tugged at my hand and pulled me to sit, which I did with great reluctance and a ton of self-righteous indignation along with a healthy dose of fear.