"I guess it's just from struggling or whatever," I said. "But they didn't rape me. I was aware enough to remember that," I said. I let down my shorts, effectively hiding my hip and Rory's mark at the same time. Dad didn't ask any more about the mark; instead he continued looking at the damage to the rest of my body. He didn't mention the hickey Rory put on my neck. Either it was no longer there, or it just got lost amongst other bruises.
He made a few notes about the size and condition of my bruising, and took pictures of everything.
The next few days passed in a blur.
My parents worked it out with my job, and they knew I wouldn't be in for a couple of weeks. At this point, I didn't see myself ever going back to a normal existence, but I assumed it would get easier with time. I slept a lot, and when I was awake, I was in a surreal state of shock. My dad prescribed me some pretty heavy painkillers that had me sedated while I recovered, and I was content to sit in my room and watch Netflix all day. Either that, or surf Pinterest on my phone, a hobby to which I'd become addicted. I found that Pinterest and painkillers complimented each other very well.
My brother Steven had no idea what happened, so we told him I was sick with the flu. He bought it and stayed out of my place.
Addie told me Rory was really anxious to check up on me and asked about me several times, but I just wasn't ready. I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone—especially him. All I wanted to do was stick my head in the sand till my face turned back to its normal color.
Chapter 12
I'd been home three days.
It was tough to say whether or not I was in a better state than I was when I first got here. I still held onto hope that by the time the bruises healed, I'd be able to get past everything and start living my life again, but staring at the ugly evidence of what happened every time I looked in the mirror prevented me from getting past anything.
My parents and Addie had all been in and out during the past few days, but I basically just spoke in one-word answers and didn't give them any of the details of what happened. I hadn't spoken a word of any of it, and honestly didn't know when I'd be ready to.
It was Saturday afternoon, exactly one week from the day I was taken, when Addie came into my room with a handwritten note from Tom Kelly.
"Miss Richie, I hope this finds you recovering well. I need to ask you a few questions. I will come by at 5PM this afternoon to do so. It will only take a few minutes. Thanks, TK"
"He's not flowery with the words, is he?" I said, flashing the note at Addie who'd handed it to me.
"What'd it say?" she asked.
"You didn't read it?"
"No. I wouldn't read your stuff."
I shrugged. "It said he's coming over at five o'clock to ask me a few questions."
"Are you nervous?"
"No. Should I be?"
"Not at all. Just tell him the truth. They all feel really bad about what happened." Addie stared into space, and I could tell she was considering how much she should say. "It's just speculation of course, since they'd never say as much in front of me, but I think high pressure situations like this might be normal for them. Tom was way too cool under pressure."
I stared at her. "Addie can't you see that this is exactly what I was talking about when I said I couldn't get involved in their pirate shit. Of course they're used to high-pressure situations. They're criminals."
Addie cringed a little at the negative tone with which I said criminals, and I could tell she wanted to defend them. Then her gaze roamed over my bruised face, and she thought better of it. "They're making sure this never happens again," she said, unable to let me think badly of them.
"It's really ironic, isn't it, that the very one who didn't want to get involved is the one this happens to."
Addie stared at me. She and I hadn't had a meaningful conversation since I got home, and I could tell from the way the tears welled up in her eyes every time she looked at me that she was harboring a lot of guilt. "I feel like it's all my fault," she said. "Like it shoulda been me." A tear fell onto her cheek, and she immediately wiped it with the back of her hand.
"Don't say that. It's not your fault," I said.
"If I wouldn't be with Drake, then you would have never—"
"It's not your fault. They thought I was Rory's girlfriend because he spent the night here. If he hadn't come over, none of this would've happened. It's my fault."
"It's definitely not your fault," she said.
"Well, it's not yours either."
She stared at me sincerely. "I'm so sorry, Megs."
"I know."
"They didn't ra—" she hesitated, "they didn't rape you, did they?" She physically cringed waiting for my answer, which was simply a shake of my head. "Oh, thank God, I mean, not that what they did wasn't bad enough, but that would have been—that would have been worse, don't you think?"
I remembered choking half-to-death on my own vomit, but didn't say anything. I just nodded in answer to her question. Rape would have definitely made matters worse, and yes, I was glad that hadn't happened. My experience still sucked, and right about now, I felt as if my life revolved around it, which meant at the moment, I had a sucky life.
"I wasn't going to say anything because I didn't want to add to what you had to deal with already," Addie said, drawing me out of my thoughts about the suckiness of life, "but Rory has been out of his mind since this happened."
"What do you mean by that?"
"There's tons of stuff, but for instance, when Tom mentioned coming by here to ask you a few questions Rory said he was coming along, when Tom said no, Rory went ballistic. The whole ordeal ended with Tom punching Rory hard enough to send him to his knees. It was quite a scene. He's just really torn up about it."
"What'd they decide about Rory coming over here?" I asked.
"What? Oh, he's not coming. Tom threatened his life—said you didn't want to see him, and that when you did, you would say so yourself."
"Smart man," I said. I sounded convinced, but the truth was I didn't know what I wanted. A little piece of me was disappointed that Tom wasn't bringing him along.
"Rory actually really surprised me during all this," Addie said. "He's acting like he shoulda been there to protect you—like it was his job." She stared into space, thinking. "If I didn't know better, I would have thought you two slept together that night. That's how torn up he's acting—like you're his girl or something."
I let out a humorless laugh. "That's ridiculous. He probably just feels bad since they mistook me for his girlfriend. I'm sure he feels partially responsible."
"More than partially," she said. "He's ate up with it."
"I thought he'd be out of town by now," I said, wanting an update.
"I think he and Tom are leaving in the morning for a trip. That's why he wanted to come by here."
"I thought about offering to go to his house," I said. I had barely been outdoors during the last week and thought it might feel nice.
"You'd go over there?" Addie said with a curious look on her face.
"Naa, never mind," I said, thinking better of it. "It'd probably be best for him to come over here."
"I'm sure they'd all be happy if you'd go over there," she said, tentatively. "I know Drake feels really bad about everything too, and would like to see you."
"Let me think about it for a few minutes and if I decide to go you can text Tom and let him know."
I told her I needed to use the restroom and disappeared into my bedroom. I stared in the mirror for a good long time, inspecting the bruises and deciding whether or not I wanted to get out of the house looking like I did. They'd shifted from red tones to purples and greens as the days passed, and I stared at my reflection, with the marks that extended from my mouth, thinking I looked a bit like a zombie. I turned to the side, inspecting myself and considering if I wanted to be seen that way.
I based my choice to go over there on the fact that I wanted to see Rory again before he went to sea. I wanted to assure hi
m I didn't blame him. At least, that's what I planned on telling him. But the truth was, part of me did blame him. That's why I could never be with him. He was dangerous, and the people close to him were in constant jeopardy. It wasn't worth it. I wasn't going to tell him that of course. I was just going to forgive him, or absolve him, or whatever he needed, so he could stop worrying about me. Then we could both move on.
"I'll go over there," I said, coming back into the living room. "Unless they have company or something," I added.
"I'll text Tom to make sure, but I think they're just around getting ready for their trip."
Addie worked it out with Tom. We got in her car headed to his house just before 5PM. I had on a pair of jeans and a thin, black NorthFace zip-up. It was the toughest outfit I could come up with, which was what I needed since I was feeling so vulnerable.
I tried to come off as confident when we approached their house, but I got more and more nervous the closer we got to the door.
"Miss Megan, it's a relief to see you looking so good," Tom said, from the front door.
I smiled and he returned it—his gold tooth sparkling in the late-afternoon sun. "I'll take all the flattery I can get right now," I said, walking past him as he held the door.
"It's not flattery. It's the truth. You look beautiful."
I smiled at him and waited for him to lead the way. "I wouldn't go so far as beautiful, but pretty good for being fresh off a kidnapping." I smiled, but could tell neither Tom nor Addie knew how to react to my remark.
"Aw, you look amazing," he said, sweetly.
We rounded the corner from the entryway to the living room, and I did a quick scan of that and the adjoining kitchen, but didn't see Drake or Rory. Addie and I followed Tom into the kitchen where he poured us each a glass of lemonade—the fresh squeezed kind with real lemons floating in the pitcher. I absentmindedly wondered where a bunch of pirates got a pitcher full of fresh-squeezed lemonade, but obviously didn't ask.
"Oh, hey, Megan," Drake said, coming into the living room. We turned to him and he smiled at me before looking at Addie. "I didn't know y'all were coming here."
"Your dad was planning on stopping by our house, but Megan decided to use it as an opportunity to get out since she's been cooped up."
"Did you tell Rory?" he asked, looking at Tom, then Addie, then me. I shook my head as if that were the furthest thing from my mind, even though it wasn't. He gave us all disbelieving looks. "Rory's gonna shit a brick if he finds out she came by. Is he still here?"
Tom scowled and shook his head. "I don't know, but don't go out of your way to tell him. I was hoping to avoid him, actually, since he's been so unreasonable lately."
"He's worried about her, Dad. He's gonna be pissed if he finds out you had her here and didn't tell him."
"It's the same as me going over there and not letting him come."
"Not really," Drake said. "If he finds out she was here at the house, he's gonna kill you."
"Let him try," Tom said. "The girl doesn't need the hassle right now."
Everyone looked at me when he said it, and I just offered a smile. They must have taken it as me saying I didn't want the hassle because Drake didn't say another word about Rory. He and Addie took off to give Tom and I a chance to talk.
"I told you and your dad if you needed help, medical or otherwise, to call me, and I haven't heard anything, so I assume you're recovering okay."
I shrugged. "I guess."
"Do you feel like you need to speak with anyone about your experience?"
"You mean like a shrink?"
"Sometimes therapy can really help you when there's been a, uh, significant experience."
"I'm dealing with it on my own right now."
"Megan, you have to promise that if you do seek help or talk to anyone that you go through me."
"I know," I said. "You said what a serious matter that was before."
"It's a very serious matter," he said.
He continued to ask me questions. He fired them off one after another, and by the time I was done talking to him an hour later, I'd relived the entire ordeal.
How had he done that? Somehow he knew just the right questions to ask to keep me at ease and still get the whole story. I wasn't complaining, though. I'd breathe a little easier getting the whole thing off my chest, and Tom was a good listener. I felt like I'd been to the shrink's office already.
Tom was standing at the sink, rinsing out his glass, and I was standing at the bar, staring at the pattern on the marble countertop when I heard the sound of a door slam. I looked up to find a very angry Rory rounding the corner from the entryway. He immediately started towards us with a murderous expression that was aimed toward his father.
"Were ye not planning telling me she was here?"
"Well, no son, I wasn't."
Rory continued walking toward us. His gaze locked on mine and we held steady as he approached.
"It makes me so mad to see ye like this," he said softly. He came to stand next to me, and with a feather light touch, he ran a finger along my bruised jaw as if to comfort me.
My breath hitched, causing my chest to rise and fall shakily.
"Megan and I were just about to head out. We're all done here, and I promised her a ride home."
Rory cut his dad a disgusted expression. "Like hell ye are. I just got home."
"I don’t think the lady's too concerned with that," Tom said. "She's doing well, Rory. I'm glad you got to see that first hand, but that'll be all. I'm giving her a ride home now."
Rory laughed, seeming to actually feel a little sorry for his dad for thinking he could get rid of him that easily. "Yer out of yer mind if ye think I'm not talking to Megan while I have her here."
"You understand she's been through a lot, son. The last thing she needs is you complicating things."
I looked from one to the other, thinking it peculiar that they were talking about me like I wasn't in the room.
"Ye understand that I just dropped everything and drove from Mack's house in South Beach to catch her before she left? Ye know how worried I've been."
Tom leveled Rory with a stare. "You have five minutes then I'm taking her home." Tom glanced at me as if he was sorry for not okaying it with me before he said that to Rory.
I smiled and gave a slight nod.
"She said it's fine," Rory said, before I had the chance to speak. "Get out."
"Five minutes," Tom said sternly, pointing at Rory as he reluctantly headed onto the patio.
Chapter 13
Rory put his fingertip on my bruised jaw and stared at it. "Are ye feeling better? And why didn't ye text me back? I've been worried sick, and Addie won't tell me shite. It's like she's punishing me, which is no use, I might add, because I'm already punishing myself enough." His eyes scanned me. "How's yer hip?"
I gave him a little smile. "It's sore, but I'm getting better."
"How are ye doing with everything?"
"Scared." I said that word first because it was the thing I felt most.
His jaw clinched when I said it.
"This is the first I've been out of the house," I said, shrugging. "It's just really hard for me to imagine feeling normal again. I'm still so dazed from it all. Also, I sort of tweaked my back when my hip got hurt. Plus, every time I look in the mirror, I see this lovely zombie lady standing there staring at me."
I motioned to my face, and he reached up and caught my hand. I wanted to give into it but I knew better, so I pulled out of his grip. He gave me a hurt expression, and I offered a smile in an effort to soften the blow.
"Zombies are in, ye know," he said smiling, and then his face shifted to one of sweet concern. "Megan I want ye to know that what happened with us last week meant something to me." He touched my face again, and I let him. "I was planning on calling ye."
Was that seriously last week? It seemed like a freaking eternity since he spent the night at my house. So much had happened between then and now that it was hard for me to
recall the significance of it. I think I really liked him at the time, but I was sort of glad I had the distraction of the incident to help me forget about how special I may or may not have thought that evening was.
"Rory, I had fun with you the other night and everything, but," I motioned back and forth between us with a finger, "this can't happen."
His bottomless green eyes were already communicating with me to please not say what I was about to say, but I'd been kidnapped for crying out loud.
I shook my head as I continued. "I'm not cut out for this kind of stuff." I smiled up at him. "I'm glad you came by while I was here, though, because I wanted to make sure you knew I don't think any of this is your fault. I don't want you worrying about that. It's just something that happened. Nobody meant for it to, and it's over now."
"Megan, I want to protect ye."
I stared up at him. I'd already thought about the ins and outs of being with him, and the reasons it'd never work. "And what if I said, 'sure, have a go at protecting me, Rory'. Exactly how would you do that when you're leaving town?"
"I'd figure something out."
"I don't even know why I said that. I don't want you to figure anything out. I'm fine, and your dad said I'd be monitored for a while anyway."
"Yer not in danger. I killed Luis myself, and he was a rare example of someone who slipped through the cracks. That situation won't happen again."
"Then I don't really need you to protect me, now do I?"
"Fuck, Megan, ye know what I mean. I want to know what yer doing. I want ye to check in with me so I know yer all right."
"I think it's probably better if you just get an update from Addie every once in a while. I think you're really sweet and handsome, and I would probably be too tempted if I tried to keep in touch."
"Then fuckin' be tempted, Megan." He held out his palms as if he was inviting me to run into his arms. It was breathtakingly tempting. I seriously forgot to breathe as I took him in. "Can't ye understand that I want ye?"
For goodness sake, what was I supposed to say to that? I thought about following my gut instinct, crying yes, and falling into his arms. Then I remembered that I'd been taken to an island where I was gagged and almost died as a result of the one night I spent with him.
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