by Kay Manis
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Come with me.” She opened the door.
I watched her get out and walk around the hood of the car. Her movements were different now—she shuffled with hunched shoulders instead of holding her head high and prancing like she once had.
A knot of fear burned in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn’t right. It felt like the beginning of the end. I wanted to grab her, run away, and never look back.
She leaned against the hood of the car, wrapping her arms around her mid-section as she stared blankly at the fence in front of us.
I got out of the car and stood beside her. “What’s this?” I pointed toward the hill. “Where are we?”
“This used to be the old airport in Austin.”
I swallowed down my anxiety, trying to keep my tone steady. “Why are we here?”
“My mom got pregnant with me in high school.”
This was her story, and something inside said I wasn’t going to like it, but I needed to remain calm.
“Her parents kicked us out when I was only two months old,” she said.
“Who the fuck does that?”
She turned and stared at me. “I know, right?” Slowly she returned her gaze to the fence, drawing in a deep breath.
I could sense this was difficult for her, like disclosing the fact that I couldn’t read had been for me. I thought about moving closer but decided I needed to give her space.
“We didn’t have much money growing up,” she continued. “My mom didn’t meet Paul until I was thirteen.”
That was news. I’d assumed she’d grown up with money her whole life.
“I’m not who you think I am, Rory,” she said, her voice flat.
The words cut me like a knife and I could almost feel the blood pouring out of me. What horrible memory was she about to relive?
I didn’t care. I loved her, no matter what. But something in my gut told me to brace for the worst.
She leaned her head back and stared up at the night sky. “My mom used to bring us out here and we’d lay back on the hood of her beat-up car and watch the planes take off and land. It was deafening but I loved it. We’d dream of being on a plane one day, jetting up into the sky and flying far, far away.”
I watched as her mind travelled back in time, her face carefree and hopeful like I’m sure she was as a young child.
“Since we couldn’t afford much, this was entertainment for us, I guess you’d say.” She laughed, but it wasn’t the same bubbly sound she usually made.
Shit.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
Instinctively, I knew better than to interrupt her.
“You told me earlier that you love me,” she said. “I mean, I think that’s what you said.”
I was about to answer but she continued on.
“You need to know everything about me, Rory. It may change the way you feel about me. I’m not sure you’ll love me after you know.”
Fuck me, what had happened to this girl?
I heard the tiny hiccup of a sob and scooted closer but she slid out of my reaching, shaking her head.
“Hindley, I love you. Nothing that you’ve done or been through will change that.”
Her eyes cut to mine. They were pooled with tears.
I swallowed down my emotions, my need to protect her almost primitive. “I mean it, Hindley. Nothing will change how I feel. Nothing.”
She stood motionless, silent, staring past me.
“Talk to me,” I whispered. “Just tell me what happened. It doesn’t matter.” And it wouldn’t.
She stared up at the dark night sky again, as if the stars held all the answers.
Dread washed over my entire body and I feared I might be sick.
“When I was in college, I had a roommate,” she said quietly. “Felicia Graston. It was our junior year and we moved into a new apartment before the semester started.”
I didn’t like where this was headed. My heart nearly beat out of my chest with fear. I clenched my hands to keep from reaching out for her.
“She and I were really excited.” She smiled. “It was our first apartment. We’d been in the dorms for two years, so being on our own was a big deal for both of us.”
I could only imagine. The thrill of being on your own was intoxicating.
“Anyway,” she said, “the complex was small, maybe only fifty units, but fairly new. Paul’s investment company had purchased the complex a few months before with the intent that Felicia and I would rent one of the units.” She paused.
I held my breath, feeling like I was watching a horrific car accident about happen.
“Shortly after we moved in, it seemed like something in our apartment was breaking all the time. A showerhead one week, the stove the next week, maybe a fan motor, whatever that is.”
She gave a short laugh but I couldn’t find anything humorous about this story.
“There were no major repairs, just enough for the maintenance team to always come out. It seemed odd, especially because the property was fairly new. We teased Paul and told him he should buy stock in a maintenance company to break even.”
She laughed again but the sound did little to settle the bile rising up in my throat.
I moved to reach for her but her body went still, rigid, her eyes glazed over as if she’d entered some sort of trance.
“His name was Donald Lee Westbank,” she whispered.
Fuck.
I drew air through my nose and willed my body not to punch something or vomit. She didn’t need to say another goddamn thing. In fact, I didn’t want her to. I could tell by her voice, by her body, by her entire demeanor what happened. I wanted to scream for her not to continue but I knew she had to. If not for me, for herself.
“It’s not what you think, Rory.”
Fuck if it wasn’t. Without realizing it, I leaned in for her.
She held up a hand to stop me. “Please let me finish. You need to know everything before you say you love me.”
I turned her to face me, staring into her brown eyes. They appeared so empty and desolate, void of the life and passion that usually shone back at me. Silently I willed her all the strength I had and prayed she knew in her heart I’d love her no matter what her story was.
“It was just before Halloween,” she said, her expression still blank and void of emotion. “Felicia and I were at home studying for midterms when Paul showed up at our door unannounced. He and my mom lived in Austin so for him to travel to Dallas without warning, I knew something was wrong.”
The beating in my head was relentless. I wasn’t sure I could take much more.
“At first, I feared it was my mother, that maybe she’d been in a car accident, but Paul assured me she was all right. He asked the two of us to sit down on the couch. There was something strange in his tone of voice and I got a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Instinctively I knew something was very wrong.”
And I knew it too, but I shoved down my own fears and mentally prepared myself for her story.
She walked toward the tall blades of grass, plucking one out of the ground, running the weed back and forth through her fingers.
“Paul told us the police had called him the day before. They’d found video footage of our apartment in one of Paul’s rented apartments.”
My entire body burned and I thought I might pass out. I watched helplessly as Hindley meandered through the grass.
“Donald’s apartment,” she said quietly. “He was the maintenance man. Paul thought it would be better to have him live onsite. As more and more things started breaking in our apartment, we all agreed.” She dropped the weed on the ground and drew in a deep breath.
I stood still, fighting the urge to rush to her side.
“The footage was from hidden surveillance cameras,” she said. “It took the police a little while to figure out who Donald was filming, but once they realized it was from a unit within the complex, they contacted Pa
ul because he was the owner. He immediately drove to Dallas to verify what the police already knew.”
She turned to face me, her once vibrant eyes now as dark and desolate as our surroundings.
“They found hours and hours of footage of me.” She touched her chest. “Donald had installed cameras everywhere in our apartment, in my bathroom, in my bedroom, in the shower, in my closet.”
What. The fuck.
She stared off into the darkness, her body tense. “There wasn’t an inch of our apartment that wasn’t completely captured on tape. Everywhere except Felicia’s room. The police were convinced Donald was stalking me.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! What could I say to this? How could I help her?
She remained stoic, not trembling, not crying, just standing before me, telling a story like it wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever lived through. The most horrific crime I’d ever heard of if this was going where I thought it was.
“I never looked at any of the footage,” she said, stepping closer, “but Paul assured me it was me. I could only assume what all I’d done in that apartment. Changing clothes, showering, bathing, sleeping. I pretty much went over the edge and flunked out of school that semester.”
I wanted to take her in my arms, to tell her it would be all right, but my body was numb, and at this point I wasn’t sure it would be.
She grabbed at another blade of grass and threaded it around her finger. “I did all right until his trial. Then I kind of went over the edge.”
Well fuck, who wouldn’t, I wanted to yell, but she was in the middle of her story and I didn’t want to interrupt.
“The prosecutor insisted on showing the recorded footage in court, but no one had warned me.”
“Who does that?” I asked.
She glanced up and I was pissed I’d broken her trance. I only hoped she could finish, find the closure with me she needed.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I had to sit there with my family and friends and watch myself on video, undressing, bathing, washing my body.” Her body shook and for the first time, real emotion overtook her. “They showed me taking a fucking shit right in front of the whole goddamn courtroom,” she yelled. “All the while, that motherfucker sat there and smiled.” Tears trailed down her cheeks and she stumbled forward, her body wrecked, having relived it all.
I rushed toward her and scooped her into my arms. She folded into me, cocooning her body into my chest, folding her arms tightly between us as she cried.
I held her close, kissing her on the head. “Shh,” I whispered, trying to comfort her. “I’ve got you, baby. You don’t have to say more.”
As if not hearing me, she continued on. “It was the most humiliating thing ever, Rory,” she stuttered through her muffled sobs.
I held her tight, trying to absorb her pain as I rocked her back and forth.
Finally, she pushed me away and took an unsteady step back, wiping at her eyes and nose. “My mom didn’t want the story to go public, mostly because of me, but I knew she didn’t want it to taint the high society world she was a part of.”
“You can’t be serious?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t know, she never really said. Paul paid so much money to have the tapes sealed. It was an obscene amount, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t thankful he had. I wanted to burn them all, but the district attorney said they had to be held for evidence in case he ever tried to file an appeal. Eventually, Donald was convicted and sentenced to fifteen years and I went on with my life.”
“Fifteen years. That’s it?” I studied her face, something in her blank expression told me there was more. “Hindley, you couldn’t have just gone on with your life. What happened next?”
“It was a rough year. I basically had a nervous breakdown after the trial. I spent a lot of time with therapists and doctors. They tried anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs, sedatives.”
Oh, shit, was she an addict too?
“I didn’t get addicted, don’t worry.” She smiled, a real smile this time that broke through the darkness.
“How did you make it out, what pulled you through?” I asked.
“Dana, sewing, school. Diversions.”
“Hindley, I’m so sorry.” I grabbed her and pulled her in close. “You know none of that changes how I feel about you, right?”
She nodded and released a heavy sigh. “I’m tired. Do you mind driving home?”
“Of course not.” I kissed her head then walked her around to the passenger side, and helped her into the car.
As I walked around the hood, I glanced up and saw her head slumped into her hands, her shoulders shaking.
Fuck it all, there was more. Had this guy raped her?
I clenched my hands into fists as if readying for a fight.
If he did, I swore to God I’d drive to whatever fuckin’ prison he was in and kick the shit out of him, then cut off his dick and shove it down his throat until he choked to death. I wasn’t sure I wasn’t going to do it right now. But I had to calm down, for Hindley. I had to get her home and take care of her.
The drive to her house was short and silent. I led her straight to the bedroom. Pulling open the top drawer of her dresser, I removed a set of pajamas and held them out to her. When she made no move to take them, I tossed them on the bed then walked toward her, about to undress her. I stopped mid-stride. Was this okay now?
“Stop,” she whispered, placing her hand over mine.
“Stop what? What’s wrong? I can leave.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then I won’t.”
“There’s more,” she said so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
And just like that, I knew. This motherfucker had raped her.
Every muscle in my body went rigid, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I feared I might actually explode.
“Will you lay down in bed with me?” She glanced up at me, her eyes pleading.
Didn’t she already know? There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Lying beside her in bed would be an honor, not a chore.
I drew in a deep breath and slowly blew it out, knowing she needed my strength right now, not my anger. I leaned down and scooped her in my arms, making the short walk to the bed. Gently I lowered us down on the mattress, cradling her to me like a small child.
Her body curled into mine and I squeezed her tight as we lay in the dark. I gently kissed her head and stroked her back, knowing she needed the calm as much as I did if she were going to open up and tell me the rest of her story.
She burrowed deeper into me, one hand clutching my arm, the other tucked beneath her head.
She looked so young and innocent, and I couldn’t even imagine what she’d been through.
“Two weeks after the trial, the police called me,” she said, never looking up. “They’d found additional footage.”
Her body trembled and I clutched her tighter, trying to offer comfort. This was going to be bad, very bad, and I needed to keep my shit together.
“Shortly after we had moved into the apartment,” she said, “I started waking up with awful headaches. I thought I was getting migraines, and Felicia threatened to take me to the doctor, but I convinced myself it was the stress of school. After Donald was arrested, the headaches disappeared and I never correlated the two. Until…”
My mind raced and my stomach burned, thinking of what was coming next. When she flinched, I realized I was squeezing her too tight and released my grip slightly, even though I wanted to crush her against me.
“Donald had been drugging me.” Suddenly she was clutching at me like a wild animal being chased by hunters. Her sobs were loud and heavy, ringing through the room as her body shook against me.
I couldn’t hear anymore, but I knew she needed to say the words, for herself if no one else.
As much as I wanted to jump off the bed and punch something, I knew I couldn’t. Instead I lay quietly, holding my girl tight to me
as she released what was probably years of pent up sorrow and shame.
Hindley had been my rock, my strength during weak times, sharing my secrets in confidence. Now it was my turn to be strong for her.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” she said. “Not my mom, not Paul, not even Dana.”
I marveled at her faith in me. “I won’t tell anyone, Hindley, I swear to you.”
She pushed up on my chest, her eyes darting between mine in disbelief. Her cheeks were stained with tears that I wanted more than anything to kiss away.
“I won’t judge you either,” I assured her, pushing back a lock of hair. “You’re perfect to me. You always will be.”
She fell against my chest and sobbed, her sorrow echoing throughout the room.
My heart ached for what she’d been through. All doubt had been erased.
That fucker had drugged her, raped her, and recorded it. She didn’t have to tell me or say it out loud. We were connected on a deeper level and sometimes needed no words.
I stroked soothing circles on her back and kissed the side of her face, willing away her pain.
Her sobs turned to whimpers and her breathing slowly evened out.
I drew in a sigh of relief despite my urge to kill that motherfucker, rip him limb from limb.
When her breathing matched my own, I pulled back the comforter and placed her underneath. Kicking off my shoes, I slid in behind her, tucking her body into mine, as much to comfort myself as her.
We lay in silence for an eternity, the seconds painfully ticking by as I waited for sleep to overtake her.
She drew my arm closer to her chest. “The police wanted to bring additional charges against him, for rape,” she said. “He’d attacked me so many times, the detectives said he could get life in prison. I would never have to worry about him ever again. But I refused.”
I swallowed hard, biting back the vomit. “Why?” I asked.
She rolled over and stared at me. “I couldn’t do it, Rory. I couldn’t face another trial. I was already broken, and to think of them playing those tapes in front of another jury, having to watch him and me doing…” She tucked her head into me and began to cry all over again.
It felt like I’d been stabbed with a hundred knives to the gut, my insides burned so hot with rage.
