“Lisa,” she gasped softly. “Lisa?” Destiny sobbed, still afraid he was going to jump on her again. “Can you come? Can you get me? Oh, God? Please, come get me!” Her cries became louder, desperate—no longer caring if he heard. There was a live person on the other end of the phone; no matter what happened now, someone would find her. “Please don’t hang up.” Her throat burned as she pleaded. “Don’t hang up,” she gasped, her voice trembling. “Home,” she answered in a raspy voice. “I think he’s gone,” Destiny whispered, “but don’t hang up. Just in case.” Her eyes felt heavy and closed again. She nodded incoherently to her friend’s questions as her breathing slowed.
She felt a hand on her cheek, but she was no longer afraid. Slowly she opened her eyes. Phillip smiled his amazing smile, his hand brushing across her face. ‘My love,’ he said. Destiny smiled back. ‘You know it’s going to be okay, right?’ he assured her.
“It’s never going to be okay again,” she cried.
Phillip moved closer to her, his breath on her cheek. “Shhh… It’s going to be okay,” he promised.
Destiny stopped crying but shook her head.
“Do you trust me?”
Destiny slowly nodded her head. “Phillip, I’m so scared,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to be afraid ever again,” his eyes promised, suddenly easing her fears. His face pressed to hers. “I promise.”
“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes again. “Okay,” Destiny whispered as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 21
Destiny shivered in her paper-thin hospital gown. It was the fifth time they had woken her since she’d arrived. A trail of people had come in and out of her room for the past three hours, collecting evidence; her clothes carefully removed—her body combed, swabbed and photographed. Every sample taken, carefully preserved in bags or envelopes or vials, to be more closely scrutinized later.
Upon her arrival, they had assigned her a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner and a Sexual Assault Forensic Examiner. But with no outward visible signs of trauma, there were more questions than answers. Had she been drinking? Had she taken any prescription or non-prescription narcotic or recreational drugs? Was there consensual sex involved in the incident? When was the last time she had sex before the incident? They asked if she had any sexually transmittable diseases. When they suggested she undergo tests for them because of the incident, she finally broke down, again, and cried—the very word, incident, making it sound accidental. Then the police arrived. And the questions were all repeated.
Lisa stayed by her friend’s side, holding her hand through the entire interrogation. Destiny’s desperate call at three in the morning had woken her from a dead sleep. And when she realized that Destiny was really in trouble, Lisa, usually the cooler head between them, became hysterical. Although Destiny sounded calmer than Lisa felt, she had quickly thrown on a shirt and sweatpants and raced to her friend’s rescue. In the process, she not only broke her own personal rules for driving safety but multiple laws by texting and driving, running red lights and speeding through the streets of Austin. Lisa frantically texted Andy over and over and over, until he finally responded, telling him to meet her at the hospital. She was going to include telling him to call the police, but after five miles traveling down the highway at eighty miles an hour, she had two police cars on her tail, sirens blaring and lights flashing.
It probably didn’t help that she was screaming obscenities at them when she arrived at Destiny’s apartment and jumped from her car. Once they had her on the ground with her hands behind her back, two of them rushed upstairs to verify her story, while the others stayed with her. Once they broke into the apartment and discovered Destiny in her bedroom, they radioed their colleagues. The two officers guarding Lisa lowered their defenses and allowed her to stand up while they called for an ambulance. Destiny’s loft suddenly became a crime scene.
When the officers, nurses, and the examiners were all gone, they brought her blankets, ordered her something to eat and then allowed Andy to come in to see her. He rushed to her side and fell on her shoulder. They wept in each other’s arms.
Lisa stepped outside to speak to the female officer that was wrapping up her police incident report.
“What happens now?” she asked, glancing at the officer’s name plate. “Officer Torres.”
The officer put up her pad and pen. “We’ll question the suspect and get his side for the report.”
“His side?” Lisa asked angrily.
“Ma’am, I know you’re upset.”
“You’re damn right I’m upset!” she exclaimed, not caring who heard her. “How long does all this take?”
“Ma’am,” Officer Torres began calmly.
“Don’t ma’am me!” Lisa said, her voice raised. “I want to know when you are going to arrest the SOB that did this to my friend?”
“Look,” the officer began again.
“Lisa.”
“Look, Lisa. We have a name and description of the suspect. We’ll ask other people who were at the same party about what they saw. Every piece of evidence that we collect at her place and that we collected here will be used to put this guy away. I promise you.”
Lisa crossed her arms and looked down, feeling angry and ashamed. Her eyes welled with tears.
Officer Torres reassuringly patted Lisa’s arm. “If it makes you feel any better, most rape victims that have been drugged don’t know they’ve been raped, and by the time it’s reported, the drugs are usually out of their system. Because she called you, and you were able to lead us to her, inadvertently, we got to her early enough to get a urine sample before she peed, and they were able to draw blood. Hopefully, we will find whatever he used on her, in those samples, and if so, we have a much better chance of proving intent.” She pursed her lips. “But you have to let us do our jobs. And no matter how emotional this is, it’s important that you become a calming voice, for your friend’s sake.”
Lisa’s demeanor softened as she listened.
“Let me give you my best advice, okay, Lisa?”
She nodded.
“First, get your friend to call her family physician and explain what happened. Then get her into counseling. As soon as possible.” She looked down into Lisa’s eyes. “Is she seeing anyone? A psychiatrist?”
Lisa didn’t answer right away.
“I saw her arms, Lisa. When did that happen?”
“Three weeks after her son and husband died in a car accident,” she replied flatly.
Officer Torres shook her head slowly. “How long ago was that?”
“Two years.”
“If she’s not in counseling now, get her back into counseling. Soon. See if you can get her pushed to the front of the appointment schedule. And have her get a restraining order against this creep. More times than not, they don’t take kindly to being investigated when they are planning on getting away with it. My guess is he’s done this before. He wore a condom. He took a shower. There’s a good possibility there are other victims out there. Does she have a safe place to stay?”
Lisa nodded.
“Good. And I’d recommend she doesn’t go back to work right away. Until the school district deals with the accusations on their end, she needs to stay as far away from him as possible. That’s why the restraining order.”
“Thank you. And sorry.”
“I understand,” she said. “As a woman, I want to castrate the creep. But as an officer, I’m bound by the law. And so are you. So no keying cars or egging houses, or threatening his manhood. Let us do our job. I promise you we’ll do everything within our power to make sure he pays for this and doesn’t do it again to someone else.”
Lisa wanted to hug her but settled for a handshake. “I appreciate what you’re doing.”
“Not a problem. And oh, uh, sorry for the,” she started, motioning at Lisa’s face, referring to the scratches she received when the officers forced her to the ground.
“Yeah, well, if I were you
, I’d have thought I was high, too.”
Officer Torres raised her eyebrow and nodded, then handed her two business cards. “Call if you have any questions or have Ms. Hering call.” She smiled, turned and walked away.
Andy walked into the hallway. “She’s resting,” he murmured. “What did she have to say? Are they going to arrest the guy?”
Lisa drew in a breath for confidence, took Andy’s hand and sat him down. She explained everything that Officer Torres had conveyed to her.
Andy dropped his head to his hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Lisa took both his hands. “She can stay with me,” she insisted. Andy raised his head, looked into her eyes, and then slowly nodded. “There’s something you need to know,” she sighed. “When Destiny was talking to me—God, I don’t know how to say this. When she was talking to me, she started talking like she was talking to someone else.”
“Who?” he asked, perplexed.
“I think she was talking to Phillip.”
“Oh, Christ!” Andy dropped his head into his hands again, then looked back up. “Are you saying she’s crazy?”
“I’m going to see if I can talk to her doctor and let her know. She needs to know now. Just in case.”
“Just in case what?”
“In case, they feel they need to keep her here. For observation.”
“You mean, commit her?”
“I mean that you and I need to agree that you have to be prepared to make the tough decisions if she is unable to make rational ones herself.”
Andy listened to her and nodded calmly.
“We have to do what’s best for Destiny,” Lisa reiterated. Then she hugged him.
“What’s best for Destiny,” he repeated against her cheek. “For Destiny.”
Chapter 22
The shades were drawn, though only for appearances since the windows were tinted and little sunlight ever brightened the room, which was lit by a single 25-watt bulb in a shaded lamp she had bought at Goodwill for two dollars. The soft gold walls where Carolyn sat in a comfortable swivel armchair, her feet propped up on the ottoman in her thirty by thirty office, overlooked downtown, Austin. She had studied at the University of North Carolina, a top tier school with a lower tier price. Carolyn graduated with a 4.0, outstanding MCAT scores and a masters in psychiatry. She could have practiced at any hospital or nursing facility that she wanted. But she chose to go into practice for herself.
Carolyn swiveled in her soft, comfortable brown chair and stared over at the matching sofa and ottoman. The woman looked lost, deep in the pillows. Frail. More fragile than when they had first met. Carolyn sighed, then put the end of her fine point pen into her mouth. There was a time when she was the frail woman swallowed in the couch pillows. Sixteen and lost. Only her psychiatrist was a man. Or rather a hypnotherapy psychiatrist. The things he did to her when she was hypnotized were criminal. But she was a troubled sixteen-year-old, going to a psychiatrist. Those things cast doubt on her claims, and the man went unpunished.
It was at that point that she became determined to be an advocate for those who had experienced sexual trauma in their lives. Many of her clients were rape victims. Destiny had been her client before she was raped. She had already survived unspeakable trauma and now this. Now, sadly, they were starting all over again. But Carolyn felt confident that she could help Destiny work through this because she already knew her medical history. She already knew her story.
Carolyn watched Destiny stare into nothingness. She wasn’t going to ask her how she was feeling again. She already knew how Destiny was feeling. She understood how she felt. Carolyn didn’t push her patients; she merely guided them through their grief, through what they had lost. And Destiny had lost so much. The woman had literally lost everything. And she had, once again, hidden within herself. Carolyn didn’t want her to tuck away the emotions. She needed to bring them out. This was their second session since the rape, and Carolyn felt it was time that Destiny began to deal with her pent-up emotions.
“Destiny?” Carolyn urged. “What are you the angriest about?”
The blank stare was unbroken.
“Destiny?” she asked, a little louder.
Destiny’s eyes turned to hers.
“What are you angriest about?”
Destiny slowly wet her lips and drew in a deep breath. “That I didn’t listen to my gut.”
Carolyn swiveled just slightly, inching back and forth. “And what did your gut tell you?”
“To kick him out.” She looked down at her hands that played with a small pillow she gripped in her lap.
“So, why didn’t you?”
Destiny felt her heart racing again, as she fought the tears. “I trusted him,” she answered, looking up at Carolyn again.
“So you’re angry at yourself for trusting him?”
Destiny nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I trusted him. God, I trust everyone.” She wiped her tears. “Phillip used to tell me I was too trusting.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d listened.”
“Trust is not a bad thing, Destiny. It’s people that take advantage of trusting people that are the problem. He was the problem, Destiny. He drugged you. He raped you. He sodomized you.”
“I know what happened. Even if I don’t remember, I know what he did,” she said, tightly gripping the pillow in her lap. “But He let it happen.”
Carolyn furrowed her brow. “He who?”
Destiny dropped her head again.
“God?” Carolyn deduced. “Are you angry at God, Destiny?”
Destiny clenched her jaw as she looked away from Carolyn. The woman had just rebuilt the impenetrable wall. Carolyn didn’t want to push too hard. It was still too delicate to break down all at once. Her doctor stood and walked to Destiny, kneeling beside her. Her hand moved to Destiny’s and squeezed.
“You have every right to be angry, Destiny. Just don’t shut down, Honey,” she pleaded. “Please.”
Tears rolled down Destiny’s face.
“You are an amazing, strong woman.”
“I don’t feel so strong.” Destiny wiped her tears.
“So, be strong,” Carolyn insisted. “Be brave,” she added. “Today, on your way home, I want you to stop at a grocery store and buy two things.”
Destiny rolled her eyes. Carolyn always had exercises to help her every time they met.
“You will choose one of your favorite snacks and cheddar popcorn. Then you will go to a regular lane, not an express lane to purchase your items.”
Destiny gave her a perplexed look. Last session all she had to do was stop at a convenience store and buy something. She couldn’t cheat and buy gas and pay at the pump. She had to go inside, forcing her to interact with people. Oh, and she had to smile at people.
“Cheddar popcorn?”
“It’s my favorite snack.” Carolyn grinned as she rose. “You can bring it to our next session. And what else do you have to do?”
Destiny rose and dropped the pillow onto the couch. “I have to smile.” She sounded almost annoyed.
Carolyn raised an eyebrow.
Destiny forced a fake smile, then erased it from her face.
“Good girl.” Carolyn patted her hand. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. Slow, positive progress.
Chapter 23
Bill arrived earlier than usual to prepare for Catfish Night at the Senior Center. He wanted to be ready early so that when Destiny arrived, he could spend some time with her, without its distracting him from his tasks at hand. She was all he had thought about all week. Bill hadn’t thought about any woman in eight years. Sure he noticed women, but none had caught his eye, his heart in such a way that he could think of nothing else. Her eyes had entranced him, her lips enticed him. Walking away last Friday night was the hardest thing he’d done in years. Next to raising an eight-year-old, that is.
Bill was somewhat nervous and a little confused since she hadn’t taken or returned any of his phone calls. He
had tried to keep them simple; sweet greetings and ‘looking forward to seeing you again,’ messages. He had even rehearsed before each call to assure that he didn’t come off sounding ridiculous. Or desperate. And yet, he felt ridiculous and desperate. Maybe he had scared her. No, that wasn’t possible. There was that unforgettable kiss; the way she looked at him after the kiss. Her playfulness. Her own nervousness was actually a little exciting. It felt not unlike… high school. The first kiss. Your first kiss with your first love. But he hadn’t talked to her since. It had been a long time, but he was pretty sure he remembered what the laws of attraction were. And yet, now he wasn’t sure.
Either way, tonight was the night that he would tell Owen that he wanted to ask her out. Not that he had to ask his permission, since, according to Destiny, he didn’t have a chance of dating her. But Owen was his brother, and he owed him honesty. He owed him that much.
Sheray bounced into the building, singing with a song playing on her cell phone, headphones adorning her head. When she saw him, she sang louder and bounced to the music, dancing as if she was on stage. Of course, Bill had to trust that she was singing to the beat. He didn’t know any hip hop, and since he couldn’t hear any sound, he took her performance at face value. He grinned. When the song was over, she tugged the headphones out of her ears. “Got a new tat,” she bragged, lifting the back of her shirt and lowering the back of her jeans to divulge a Chevy logo tattoo centered over her buttocks. “It’s my new tramp stamp!” she said excitedly.
Bill shook his head. “Who puts a car logo on their butt?”
“Technically, it’s not on my butt.” Sheray smiled as she washed her hands and dried them per regulations.
“What were you singing?”
“Eminem, ‘Monster.’”
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