A cold nausea swept over me. I wanted to cry and sweep back my triumph of discovery. In his nightmares, Logan was making love to me, until I morphed into Her. I was battling not only Her, but me. There had to be a way to win and conquer both demons. I didn't know who to talk to about it. I loved Jason and Lyssa. But I couldn't talk to them about this. I was lost. I needed help.
On Wednesday, I got back to the apartment before Logan.
Collin walked in the front door with a handful of mail. He tossed it on the table. A large envelope with Logan's name on it slid free from the rest.
"Another job offer, lucky bastard. My dad's going to have my head if I don't get one soon. I'm going to end up bored, miserable, and unhappy in the family biz, just like dear old Dad. If you repeat this, I'll deny it, but I should have listened to him and paid more attention to my studies. But partying was just too damn fun."
I barely heard his ramblings. "Another one? As in more than one?"
"Oops! You mean Logan hasn't been bragging about all the companies who are hot to have him work for them? The modest bastard." Collin shrugged. "Thought you knew about the others."
I didn't give up. "How many more than one?"
Collin shrugged again. "I haven't been counting. You'll have to ask him."
Just then the door opened and Logan came in. His gaze bounced between Collin and me. "Am I interrupting something?"
Collin laughed. "Look who's here. We were just talking about you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Logan looked puzzled.
"Another company vying for your considerable talents." Collin pointed to the envelope on the table. "Hope it's a good offer." He grabbed a beer from the fridge. "I'll leave you two kids to talk it out."
Logan scowled, scooped up the envelope, and shoved it into his backpack with barely a glance at it.
"Aren't you going to look at it?" I asked.
"Later."
"Logan, don't. It's not like I don't know you've been interviewing. This is important. This is exciting. This is your future." My heart pounded in my ears. I fought to sound reasonable and happy for him, but I wanted him to stay. And he knew it. These job offers would take him away from me—physically, at least. And maybe forever. "You should look at it. See if it's as good as the others."
"You know about those?"
"Collin spilled about them. He didn't mean to. He thought I knew." I paused. "I want you to feel comfortable telling me about them."
I pulled a chair out from the table, trying to keep my heart from showing. The thought of him leaving made me unreasonably panicked. "Sit. Look it over. I'll go into the other room if that makes you more comfortable." I forced myself to joke. "Salaries are private things. No one talks about them, right? But, you know, I could get on salary.com and get a good idea of what they might be offering."
He set his backpack on the floor, took a seat in the chair, and grabbed my hand, pulling me next to him. "Smartass." His hand was warmer than his voice. "Let's look together." He glanced at me for confirmation.
I nodded and forced a wobbly smile, trying to play supportive girlfriend.
He leaned down and pulled the envelope back out of his backpack.
I stood behind him and looped my arms around his neck, peering over his head as he opened it. When I got a look at the salary they were offering him, I whistled. And my heart plummeted into near-despair mode. How could I compete with that? Logan wanted out of this university town and out from his dad's control, and here was the ticket right in front of him.
"Wow! You'll be loaded. Engineers make the big bucks. No wonder nerds are hot."
"Shut up," he said.
"So? Is it a good offer? I mean, compared to the others."
He was silent and obviously reading. "It is a good offer."
"The best?"
"Maybe."
"You're awfully tightlipped. Do you like the company?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
I kissed the top of his head, trying to blink back a sudden assault of tears that were both happy and scared. "I'm happy for you."
He grabbed my hand and pulled me beside him. I plunked into the chair next to his. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet, El."
I kept a smile plastered on my face. "I know. You'll make the right choice."
He didn't look convinced. "For who?"
"I want you to be happy," I said, totally meaning it. I hesitated. "I don't want this to sound like blackmail or something, but I have to stay here for another year. I want to get to know Jason and Mia and Lyssa better. And meet the new baby. And finish my degree. I can't keep changing schools and losing credits."
His steady stare unnerved me.
"And after that, I'll have to get a job. Somewhere. And I don't know if I'll be able to follow you. I don't even know if that's best."
"I know," he said. "Believe me, I know." He looked away.
I knew he did. We both did. I didn't want him to feel the pressure. But somehow it was all on him. My plans were firm. I didn't have as many options as he did. He was the one with the decision to make.
We ordered in pizza to celebrate. Collin and Zave drank too many beers and got obnoxious, ribbing Logan too hard about being the golden boy. At the height of their rowdiness, Logan's phone buzzed.
He glanced at it. "Sorry to bail, but I gotta run."
I frowned, puzzled.
"Sorry, El. I forgot to tell you—I'm on call with CAPSA tonight. A girl just called for an escort to walk her home from her ten o'clock lab." He grabbed his car keys.
"And our superhero rushes off." Zave saluted him.
Collin sniggered. "Don't forget your cape."
He addressed me. "I'll be back soon." He turned to the guys. "Behave yourself and treat El nice."
Zave and Collin exchanged mock-puzzled looks and shrugged.
"Don't we always?" Zave said.
Collin nodded. "I thought we did."
Logan brushed my lips with the barest of kisses and was out the door, leaving me with an insane rush of jealousy. I couldn't help imagining girls calling just to get Logan as their safety escort. I felt abandoned, and knew it was unreasonable of me. But piled on top of that job offer, I felt Logan slipping away from me.
"Cheer up, Ellie. Now you can spend some quality time with us," Zave said.
Collin threw a pillow at Zave. "Shut up, douche. Ellie's upset."
It was that obvious? The thing was, I couldn't help seeing the relief on Logan's face when he got the call. Like he needed space and, most important, time away from me. I thought about his need to play hero and suppressed a shudder. I tried to laugh off my unreasonable feelings.
"It's nothing. It's important for him." I paused, realizing I knew hardly anything about what Logan had done during the months we were apart. "How often does he get calls like this?"
Collin hesitated, too, like he didn't want to tell me. "A lot. When you two were apart, he took as many shifts as they'd let him have." Collin set down the beer bottle he'd been holding. "Don't worry, Ellie. You're the only girl for him."
Maybe. But was I enough? Could I compete with his hero complex?
I made a decision. I needed to talk to a CAPSA counselor. If anyone knew how to deal with this, they would.
The next day, I made an appointment. They got me right in for an afternoon consultation with a counselor, Dr. Koin. The CAPSA offices were in the basement on the SUB, along with the study-body offices and various other club and campus organizations. I hadn't told Logan about the appointment. I found myself slinking into the offices once again like I was on a top-secret mission. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait. I was ushered immediately into Dr. Koin's office. She was kindly and no-nonsense, but had a sympathetic air. In her mid-forties, she wore little makeup and comfortable sandals. She put me at ease right away and offered me a seat.
She glanced at a note on her desk. "You're not a victim yourself?"
"No," I said. "My boyfriend is. Logan Walker."
The nam
e sparked recognition. She nodded. "The Dr. Rogers case."
I nodded.
"I commend you for coming in," she said. "It must be difficult for you, too."
"It is. And I want to be supportive." I knotted my hands. "Logan doesn't like to talk about it. And I don't blame him. But I don't know how to help him. And with the trial approaching, he's having dreams. Well, nightmares, really. He won't tell me what they're about. But I think I know what they're about—me and Her.
"The dreams are coming between Logan and me. And he's hurting. And I don't know what to do." Tears stung my eyes. "I just don't know what to do or who to talk to."
Dr. Koin handed me a tissue. "That's why I'm here. Talk to me. Tell me about the dream and why you think you know what it is."
I looked at her sympathetic face and knew I could trust her. And so I told her everything—about the dream, about what Logan had told me about the rape, about everything I felt and felt Logan felt. She listened to the story without interrupting.
"He feels like should have been able to stop her. Like it's his fault," I said finally.
She nodded. "That's typical, Ellie. And completely understandable. Male rape victims often feel emasculated. Like they've lost control. Due to confidentiality, I can't speak specifically about Logan. I'm just your counselor now and I'm weighing everything as if I'm just helping you. Understand?"
I nodded.
"Now, this may not be true of Logan, but generally, men react by trying to regain control in all aspects of their lives, particularly their sex lives. It sounds to me like Logan is feeling he's losing control when he's with you. And it's frightening him. He's equating it with the loss of control he felt when he was raped by Dr. Rogers.
"You have to find a way to show him it's okay to lose control with you. That it's natural. Desirable. Our bodies are made to react sexually and have a mind of their own. You need to find a way to disassociate your sex life from his experience with Dr. Rogers."
"How do I do that?" I was desperate.
Dr. Koin looked at me kindly. "I wish I could give you specifics, but I can't. Not without knowing both of you and the inner dynamics of your situation better. Even then I could only offer suggestions that may help. If you'd like to bring him in, we could do couples counseling and go from there."
I shook my head. "He won't go for it."
She nodded. "The main thing is to remain supportive and open to communicating with him." She paused. "I know it's hard. Really hard. Please feel free to come talk to me again. Anytime."
I left Dr. Koin's office, trying to digest what she'd said. She made sense, but I didn't know if I was up to the challenge. How did I let Logan know he shouldn't be afraid of his feelings for me? Or his sexual response to me? That I wasn't Her.
As I left her office, I realized exactly whom I needed to talk to. I don't know why I didn't realize it before. I texted Dex that I was on my way to see him.
I found him in his dorm room. The door was open, so I walked in and caught him with a plastic tube—like fabric paint comes in—in his hand, an array of chemicals fanned out around him, and a sweatshirt spread out on his desk with a ruler on it.
"What are you doing, practicing your penmanship?" I asked as I closed the door behind me.
He held up one finger to let me know to give him a minute. He finished writing something in invisible ink and stood back, grinning evilly at his work.
"Did you actually find invisible-ink fabric pens?" I squinted, trying to see what he'd written.
"Yeah, but they sucked. Most of them were the kind you have to use a black light to see. There were a few heat-sensitive ones that changed color when warmed. But they didn't actually disappear. No humidity-based inks.
"I had to create my own unique blend. I'm trying it out on this fifty-fifty fabric blend to see how it holds up and reacts. And to make sure it really is invisible when it's supposed to be. What do you think?"
I walked over and studied the sweatshirt. He'd written Dex rules. "You rule? Really? It's not very invisible. That won't prank your mom. She'll see right through it."
He rolled his eyes at my pun. "Give it a chance to dry."
I shrugged and looked doubtful, but it felt good to be with Dex in the normal world. "Make sure she can't feel it, either. You don't want it tactile, or when she hugs you, she'll know you're up to something."
"Think I haven't thought of that? That rules out a lot of fabric paint. Puffy paint just won't work."
I shook my head at his folly. "Cheer up. You have another week to perfect your diabolical sweatshirt prank."
"Yeah, but it would be better if I had access to a lab."
"Since when has having access stopped you?" I asked.
He grinned. "You're right about that." He paused. "You should prank your mom, too. It's fun. I could help. I'm full of ideas."
I did the heavenward glance. "I'm sure you are. I'd take you up on it if I thought it would do any good or make any difference. Can you make me prettier and sexier than her?" I shook my head at his giving-it-serious-thought look. "No, I thought not. If I suddenly turned into Snow White and was the fairest of them all—fairer than her, at least—her life would be over. That would be worth seeing."
"Yeah, but you don't want her sending the evil huntsman after you."
"You're right about that." I sighed. "You know she's going to be on the prowl while she's here. A cougar on the make for a younger guy. I'd pay anything to see her taken down a notch. Vanity, thy name is mother."
"Stranger things have happened." Dex got that thinking-up-pranks look in his eyes. "You know, I could probably whip up some invisible face paint while I'm at it. The kind that's invisible until it gets moist or heats up when she blushes."
"Mom never blushes. She's completely immune to embarrassment. Nothing fazes her." She hadn't had the decency to blush when I caught Austin on top of her.
Dex ignored me. "Here's the plan—you get her wasted Friday night. While she's out, you draw a hideous face on her. You know, cat whiskers or something. It's invisible until you're walking around campus and she breaks into a sweat—"
"It would have to be waterproof or she'd wash it off in the shower. And wouldn't that humidity give it away? And someone would probably point it out to her."
"Killjoy. We're just brainstorming here. You're killing the creative genius."
"Sorry. My bad. Want to go together to pick up the sweatshirts next week?"
He shook his head. "And be seen in a crowd of girls as a whipped mama's boy? I'll give you a twenty to pick them up for me."
I shrugged. "Done. I could use the money." I held out my hand.
"I only pay on receipt," he said.
"Talk about trust issues." I laughed. "I wasn't asking for payment. I need your receipt so they'll give them to me."
He hit a button on his laptop and his printer came to life, spitting his order confirmation out. "What brings you here?"
"I needed to talk to someone normal."
"And yet you came here." His eyes danced with amusement.
"Yeah, well, you're not in the middle of bad-breakup depression. You aren't stressed out about testifying at a trial—"
"Now the truth comes out," he said. "Problems with the boyfriend."
"No, just worries. Doctor—" I cut myself off just in time before I spilled something confidential. "Can we lock the door? I don't want to be interrupted."
Dex shrugged.
I took that as a yes and flipped the deadbolt before turning to face Dex again. "All the articles I've read say male rape victims feel like they should have been able to defend themselves. Some of them cover it by bragging about their sexual exploits and how sexy they are. But deep down…"
I hesitated, knowing I could alienate Dex, too. But I had no choice.
"You lied to me," I said.
Dex frowned, perplexed. "What are you talking about?"
I swallowed hard. "You told me you didn't see Logan's picture when you found the rest of the naked phot
os on Dr. Rogers' computers. But that's a lie. You did." I bit my lip. My mouth went so dry I could barely get the words out. "Dex, please. I need to know everything you saw."
Chapter Ten
Dex stared at me. "Come on, Ellie. How do you know I saw anything?"
Logic was the only way to appeal to Dex. He didn't make decisions based on emotional appeals.
"Logan was Dr. Rogers' favorite victim. She told him she was in love with him. She was obsessed with him. That was clearly evident the day we pranked her class. When Logan came in, she looked like she wanted to do him right there.
"He told me she confronted him with a naked picture of himself. It doesn't make any sense she wouldn't have kept at least that one. If I have to guess, I'd say she had more than one picture. More than still pictures. I'd say she had a sex tape. And you know what's on it."
"I'm not a perv, Ellie." His eyes and voice were hard. But he bit the inside of his cheek, which meant he was nervous.
"I never said you were. I think something totally different—you're a true friend. You saw something, however brief, and you want to spare me and forget you ever saw it. But it's important to me now. What did you see? And what did you do?"
He took a deep breath and sat down on his bed. "Shit, Ellie, I never would have blackmailed you into being in my study group if I'd realized you were so damned smart."
"Is that a compliment?"
His grin was almost sad. "You'd better sit down."
I sat on his roommate's lumpy, rumpled bed across from him, trying not to think about the last time these sheets had been washed.
"I'll tell you the truth, but I will deny ever having said it."
I nodded. "I'm not a court of law. I want to know so I can help Logan. That's all."
"And what if you can't push the images I give you out of your mind?" he asked. "What if knowing causes you to turn away from him? And me."
"It won't. But that's a chance I'll take. And I won't tell Logan ever, either."
Dex continued to stare at me, looking like he was still thinking it over. Finally, he spoke. "You're right. There was a video. I erased it and the pictures of Logan. To protect you. And by default him. There was more than enough evidence to convict Dr. Rogers without it. I'm good. I covered my tracks thoroughly. If anything ever comes to light, I'll claim Dr. Rogers deleted the files to protect herself."
Reckless Together Page 8
