by Bry Ann
“What are you doing Damon?” I said my voice barely a whisper. “This...this isn’t you.”
For the briefest second, I saw his gaze flicker to his cousin who was eyeing me gleefully and carefully. “You don’t know that,” he finally said.
“I do,” I mumbled and glared at his cousin. Somehow, he was being forced to do this. Not that that made it any better. I’d take whatever was coming my way before I hurt someone else.
“Get of the car Dana. Please don’t make this hard.”
“Don’t make this hard!” I shrieked.
I quickly reached for my phone, but in one quick motion my purse was being yanked from my hands and both boys were getting out of the car and heading to each side of the passenger doors where I was sitting. I fumbled around frantically, but the doors came flying open. My elbow was jerked roughly to my left by a rough calloused hand. I felt myself being dragged from the car. Since I fought the whole way, when I was pulled from the car my chin hit the pavement painfully forcing my teeth to clash together and the metal taste of blood to fill my mouth.
“Jesus Dana,” I heard Damon say as his much smaller, much softer hand pulled me up from the ground.
Before I could even process what happened or my chin or that I no longer had my phone, Tanner’s calloused hand was grabbing my upper arm and jerking me to a spot behind the restaurant. Tanner’s hand almost wrapped around my entire upper arm. I felt small. Weak. Out of control. It made me hate myself for not moving and not calling anyone when I knew something was wrong earlier. It set me down a train of thoughts that would haunt me for years to come. Somehow in the time I was being dragged to the back of the restaurant I concluded this was all somehow my fault. Occasionally I’d dig my feet in and try and stop Tanner from pulling me, but all it took was a small nudge from Damon behind me to get my feet moving again.
Soon we were behind the restaurant by an old dumpster. It smelled, and the ground was still somewhat wet when they pushed me down to my knees. I tried to stand, but a fist came flying into my face before I could see who did it. My hands stopped my fall, but it just took a nudge for me to land with a grunt on the ground. It was at this point my body and mind separated. It felt like I was watching myself. I didn’t feel anything. I still have trouble piecing together what happened afterwards, to this day. I have no idea who participated in my rape. Did they both? Did Damon? Did my boyfriend rape me? Did his cousin? I can’t remember. I have therapied myself to death over this and I still can’t remember.
I remember the moment I came back into my body. My dress was hiked up around my waist. I was bleeding a little on my face, chin, knees and down there as well. The ground was wet, cold and disgusting. Tanner was already halfway towards the car waiting for Damon impertinently. Damon grabbed the money out of my wallet and looked at me with a semi sympathetic expression. Although, I was still not sure if that expression was meant for him or me.
“I really am sorry,” he mumbled before running off to be with his cousin. Then both of them hightailed it out of there.
I pulled my dress back down and sat up looking straight ahead like a zombie. My eyes were wide, and I could feel my heart pounding a million miles a minute. It took me quite a while before I started to wiggle my fingers to try and wake my body up from whatever state of shock it was in. I saw my cell phone thrown across the pavement and I crawled over slowly (and painfully!) to pick it up. I quickly hit the number of the one person I knew would care about what had happened to me. Usually I’d feel guilty for interrupting him, but I was too frozen to process guilt or any other emotion other than ‘survive’.
“Logan…” My voice cracked when I heard his voice on the other hand of the line. He sounded irritated. His tone immediately changed when he heard mine.
“Day, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I need your help.”
My voice still sounded groggy and foreign. I could hear Logan telling someone to ‘give him a fucking minute’ in the background.
“Where are you? What happened?”
“Logan, I….” My throat closed, and tears started to fall down my cheeks. “Damon... Was with his cousin... he...Damon…” My thoughts were all running into each other and I wasn’t able to process any of them.
“What are you trying to tell me Dana?” Logan said slowly. His voice sounded absolutely horrified.
He knew.
“Logan I’m in trouble,” I finally said.
“Call 9-1-1. Tell them to take you to the county hospital. I’m coming right now. I’ll handle mom and dad.”
“I don’t want to hang up.”
Tears slipped from my eyes faster. Don’t leave me Logan. I’m so scared. Logan let out a pained sigh.
“I’m still right here. I will hold my cell phone and you hold yours. We are still connected. Just hit the red button and call 9-1-1. Stay on with them until they get there. I’m coming.”
Logan’s phone clicked and with shaking hands I did as he said. He was my hero, still is, but especially when I was 13. The ambulance and police arrived quickly. They were all very nice and very gentle with me. In the ambulance they cleaned up some of my wounds. I got to the hospital and the rape kit was the absolute worst part of everything. I tried to separate my body and mind again, but my body wouldn’t do it on command. I was mortified. Everyone was poking and prodding every inch of me. The nurses were so nice, but I cried and shook the entire time. I kept telling them I just wanted my brother. That was the God’s honest truth. The only person I wanted was him. The only thing that held me together during that moment was a small pink and white stuffed pig they gave me to hold. So stupid looking back now, but something about the softness of it in the moment meant the world to me.
I hoped when the exam was over I would be done, but I wasn’t. I still had to give my statement to the police. First the nurse handed me new clothes and toiletries with a small smile. I appreciated her attempt at making me feel better, but I felt completely numb by this point. She couldn’t make me feel better or worse. Once I got in the restroom I tore that disgusting dress off my body. If it would have flushed down the toilet that is where I would have stuffed it. The nurses told me they’d donate it to charity. I guess that was a better option than letting me rip it to shreds. I thought once I was clean, showered and out of my clothes I’d somehow feel better...cleaner, but I didn’t. I still felt dirty, inside and out.
Next, the police asked me if I wanted to see my family or give my statement. They kindly said it was up to me what I wanted to do first. I chose the cops. I needed a minute before I could be “on” in front of other people. This was all a haze and it was moving too fast. I didn’t want Logan anymore. I just wanted to go in a dark room alone and cry. Scream. Let something out, whatever it was that was eating away at my insides.
I numbly gave the police a recap of what happened. They asked questions and I answered them. Then the ushered me into a room and told me they’d get my family for me. I didn’t want to see them yet. I stopped the cops halfway out and told them if I had to see someone I just wanted to see my brother. They looked at me strangely but nodded in understanding. I figured I had a few minutes before they were able to get Logan upstairs without him causing some kind of ruckus, so I slid into the bed and pulled the covers over my head. I felt safer in there, in the safety of the sheets. I took deep breaths and tried to calm my body which was now going haywire with anxiety and overwhelm. I got lost in my breath. It was like time froze and then… whoosh! The covers were swept off my body in a quick motion.
Logan.
“That was fast,” I murmured. “I thought I had longer before you got up here.”
“It’s a hospital Dana. Not Hollywood Boulevard.”
“Good point.”
He nodded and sat down at the foot of my bed. I swung my feet around to sit next to him. There was a heavy silence that unused between the two of us. It was so long and so heavy that neither one of us knew how to break it. Eventually Logan did.
�
�What happened?” he said quietly. “I mean no one will tell me anything. I think I know but…” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as shaggy hair sat over his deep blue eyes.
“It’s been a bad day,” I mumbled.
Logan walked over to his bag that he set on the floor by the door. He pulled something out of it and hid it behind his back as he walked back over to me and sat down. I looked at him curiously.
“I brought cookies,” he brought out a box of shortbreads from behind his back, “but you have to talk first to get them.”
My jaw dropped.
“Really? After everything that happened! You were so cute to bring cookies, but now you are going to blackmail me with them. Low blow bro.”
“It’s not blackmail when I’m trying to help you.”
“No! You are curious. There is a difference.”
“Is it really healthy to keep secrets from your family Dana? Come on.”
He frowned, clearly displeased. Like I said, Logan was never subtle. I grabbed the covers and pulled them over my stomach and meekly looked down at my feet.
“Yeah so I was raped….” I quickly stole a glance at Logan who closed his eyes for a second in pain and then gave a gentle nod for me to continue. “Damon and his cousin, Tanner, picked me up and I knew something was wrong but I… froze. Don’t be mad. Please. I’m sorry. I knew I should have called you Logan. I just froze. I couldn’t think…” Logan grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. It was his way of telling me it wasn’t my fault. It didn’t change how I felt, but it stopped my rambling.
“After that I really don’t remember much. We pulled up to an abandoned Mexican restaurant. I hit my chin on the ground and then it all went fuzzy. I promise. I’m not lying. I swear!”
“I know Day. I know.”
Logan squeezed my hand again and then let go and put a cookie in it. I looked at it and tried to shoot Logan a half smile, but I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“I’m tired. Can you talk to the staff about me going home now?”
Logan searched me for a second with his gaze and then nodded. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it again. I’d never seen Logan unsure before, but it was very clear in that moment he had no clue what to do.
“I love you Dana. I hope you know that. I really do. I know I’m busy and stuff but… you are my best friend.”
“Same.”
He shot me a sad smile and then walked out. This was one thing I knew would go my way that day. Logan would make sure I got to go home.
Present Day: Chapter 2:
This is the part of my plan where I was supposed to question my decision and wonder where I was even going to begin. As I sat on the plane though, I’d never felt surer of myself. I knew Gunner, inside and out. I’d find him. I was sure of it.
I decided to head for his hometown in Missouri first. Gunner and I talked a lot about where he grew up. It was clear there was pain associated with that town, but he always spoke of it with high regard, unlike me and my hometown. I grew up in downtown LA and he grew up in the boondocks, surprisingly. There’s nothing about Gunner that screams country boy. The man is a wall, with a deep stoic stern voice, lots of tattoos and muscles that could intimidate the hell out of anyone. There is no country accent, no cowboy boots or cowboy hats and definitely no polite country boy manners.
Somehow, I was able to fall asleep on the way there. I woke up to the sound of the flight attendant telling us we had had arrived. I shook my head a few times and cleared my throat. The guy to my left threw me a dirty look. I ignored him and laughed when I noticed his girlfriend was wearing an ‘I love Logan Prescott’ bracelet. That stuff would never stop being weird to me, random strangers loving my brother. I was curious if they’d love him if they actually knew him. Honestly, probably. My brother was pretty great, especially now that Sam was in it and he wasn’t so selfish.
I got off the plane, went through the airport and got to my hotel with no trouble whatsoever. I felt weird about how eerily calm I was so far. I mean I had spent the better part of my life in treatment, a large portion of that stay focusing on anxiety and PTSD. I guess going after the person I love was worth any consequences that came my way. Bottom line, like Sam said, if and when I found Gunner he wouldn’t let anything happen to me no matter how pissed off he was.
I spent two days in town piddling around the city. I wasn’t really looking for Gunner yet, I was just trying to get a feel for everything. It was on the third day that I started taking my search more seriously. I first texted Gunner. I had to see if me being in Missouri would get a response from him. I wanted to make this whole thing as easy as possible. I’d tried texting him before and he hadn’t responded, but I knew it would be different now.
Me: Gunner, you’ve ignored my other five hundred other worried text messages but read this. It’s a warning. I’m in Missouri. If you are here please don’t make this complicated for me. You owe me an explanation at least. - D
Nothing came back. I spent the next twenty-four hours driving around town and looking at spots Gunner had talked to me about; the diner he visited as a kid, the park he loved going to with his parents, the bookstore he frequently got in trouble at. The more I drove around the harder and harder it was to believe the tattooed criminal I knew went to these places. The diner was small and friendly. A lady in her mid-70’s greeted me and bought me a free muffin. As I sat in the tiny booth I thought about Gunner’s description of this place. It was three years ago that he’d talked with me about it. I savored every word.
“I used to go to Ray’s Diner and Donuts every weekend,” he said gruffly as he scratched at the material on his ripped faded jeans.
“They always hired elderly folk and I found it amusing. I got free muffins and coffee every time I popped in there and this lady, Reggie they called her, would always give me a speech about being a “good boy”. She’s definitely looking down at me from heaven right now pissed as hell.”
Gunner tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but I saw the pain and regret flicker in his eyes.
“Even by the age of twelve I was too big for the booths. My knees went up past my hips in the seat and it fucking annoyed me. Something kept me going back there though. I miss it.”
He mumbled the last part as if embarrassed.I didn’t say anything in return. I just stared at him and wondered what the hell had happened to him. Clearly, the criminal instinct was always there, but why had he acted on it when he knew better? I brushed my hair back behind my ears and fiddled with the earring that got caught in my pin straight blonde hair. Gunner and I somehow were able to talk without words. If I’d said something back in that moment it would have annoyed him. He knew I got it.
I was instantly snapped out of the memory when my cell phone started buzzing. Please don’t be Sam. Or Logan. Or Alexa. Please be Gunner. Please. I nervously picked up my phone and clicked the text message box.
Gunner: Go home Dana. -G
We always ended our texts with our first initial. I don’t know why. He started it. Even though we were obviously both saved in each other’s phones the initial thing just sort of stuck. It became our thing. It was that one initial that let me know we weren’t over. You see Gunner told me why he put the initial there the in the first place. He didn’t want me saving his number in his phone for my safety. Of course, I did it anyway. Even when he realized I wasn’t going to listen to him we continued doing it. Even when we got to the point of recognizing each other's numbers we didn’t stop. It’s our thing.
Me: No. -D
I waited. I knew he’d text back. I was just glad to have his attention again. Especially since I’d used some of my savings without Logan’s knowledge, and flew halfway around the country to see him.
Gunner: It’s a warning. -G
Me: I don’t take well to those… in case you haven’t noticed. -D
I waited again. My foot was bouncing around a hundred miles a minute. The waitress came over and asked me a question. I snapped at her. I instantly felt bad. It wasn
’t her fault I was in love with another asshole. I apologized and made a mental note to leave her a big tip.
Gunner: Fine. I warned you. I did my part for an OLD friend. I'm not even there anymore D. I’ve already left Missouri. -G
I immediately picked up my phone to text him back, but his text stung too much. I closed my eyes tight for a second trying to reign in the heartache. It didn’t work so instead I stuffed the muffin down my throat and swallowed the soda I’d ordered in one long gulp. I then ordered a cheeseburger and ate that too. I almost ordered dessert on top of that but decided maybe binging wasn’t the best course of action here. Damn though, I really wished it was. I finally picked up my phone again, my feelings, along with my body, heavily sedated from all the food.
Me: What danger? - D
No response. I drove back to my hotel. No response. Ugh, fuck him! I waited three hours. No response. I slammed the book I was reading on the counter and picked up my phone again.
Me: WHAT FUCKING DANGER GUNNER?!!
No initial. No nothing. Fuck him. What danger was I in? Two whole hours later a text came back.
Gunner: Enough to where I am telling you that you need to go home.
No initial. He was pissed too.
Me: Clearly not that much danger since it’s taken you like five whole freaking hours to get back to me!
Gunner: Fuck you Dana.
Me: Fuck me? Fuck me? No, FUCK YOU GUNNER! I’m not going home.
I didn’t even really curse all that much. He was just bringing this out of me. You could always can count on a man with very little moral consciousness to bring out the best in you. Along this train of thought I decided I wasn’t done texting him.
Me: Wouldn’t this be easier in person? If I am in danger I mean…. seriously. -D
Gunner: I told you. I’m not in Mourssi. -G
Me: Where the hell are you? -D
Gunner: Dana, go home. I’m not kidding. -G
Me: Neither am I. -D