Demon

by Laura DeLuca

  “Okay,” Rebecca agreed, not wanting to upset her anymore or push her if she wasn’t ready. “If you’re tired, I’ll come back and see you again tomorrow.”

  Megan shook her head. “No, Becca. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be mean. You’ve been a good friend to me, and I know you’re just trying to help, but I don’t want to remember any part of this place. Tomorrow, when I’m released, my parents will be coming to take me home. After that, I don’t ever want to talk to anyone from this college again. Not even you. I just want to put this whole thing behind me.”

  Rebecca tried to swallow back her own selfish feelings. Megan was the only real friend she had made in college. But as her friend, she knew she had to let Megan heal in her own way, in her own time, even if she wasn’t a part of the process. So Rebecca only nodded.

  “Okay, Megan. If that’s what you want, I’ll go. But if you need me—anytime you need a friend—I’ll be here for you. Call me anytime, day or night, if you want to talk.”

  Megan’s only response was to roll over in her bed and go back to staring vacantly out the window. She looked so lost and alone. So like her character, Johanna, when she was sent to the asylum and hidden from the world. Only Megan’s prison was in her own mind. She didn’t say another word as Rebecca slipped quietly out the door—and if Megan had her way—out of her life forever.

  Rebecca didn’t let herself cry until she was alone in the elevator heading back down to the main entrance. Then she just couldn’t hold it back any longer. Thank goodness there was no one else in the elevator, because she actually sat on the ground with her hands around her knees and wept like a little girl. She wasn’t crying for herself or even for the friendship she had lost. She cried for Megan, and all that had been so viciously stripped from her. It just wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

  It took Rebecca a while to pull herself together. Even though she tried to wash her face in the guest bathroom on her way out, her eyes were still red-rimmed when she got back into the car where Justyn patiently waited. As soon as he saw her blotchy face, his brow creased with concern.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  Rebecca squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I’m okay. It’s Megan. She needs help, but she doesn’t have a Darlene or boyfriend as wonderful as you to get her through this.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “We can’t all be so blessed.”

  “No,” Rebecca agreed. “But girls who have been through something like this need to have someplace to go for help. They need support. They need…” She stopped talking for a minute as a plan started to formulate in her mind. “These girls need to have a safe place, and I’m going to make sure they have one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  One week later, Rebecca sat in a circle of young women. She was surprised, even amazed, at the turnout, especially since it was only the first week of the support group. Right after her visit with Megan, Rebecca had stomped into the office of her school counselor and asked, no…demanded, that something be done for the victims of the campus rapist. And not only them, but any girls in the school who had suffered any type of physical or sexual abuse. The one-on-one counseling with a psychologist who had no firsthand experience wasn’t enough. These girls needed to support each other, set an example for each other. They needed to know they weren’t alone, that there was hope beyond the fear. They needed a place where they could talk, or listen, or just not be afraid, even if it was just for an hour each week.

  Rebecca found a female counselor who was willing to moderate the group, but the rest had been up to her. She spent every free second the last week making flyers and handing them out on campus. They were hung in every hallway and plastered on every tree. She started a website and even spoke live on the campus radio. Justyn had been a huge help with everything and supported her every step of the way, even when it meant he barely got to see her outside of play practice. She had no way to know if her efforts were making any difference. Every time she checked her empty email inbox, she wondered if she was just wasting her time. However, when the first meeting began and she looked at the faces of the young women around her, faces that glimmered with hope, she knew she had done something right.

  There were about twelve girls present at the meeting. Two of them were pretty blondes who bore the telltale scars on their faces, marking them as victims of the same man who had attacked Rebecca and Megan. Others had different stories. Melinda was a sophomore who had fought her way to college to escape the molestation of her stepfather. Beth had been a victim of date-rape her freshman year. Laurie was attacked her senior year of high school by a guy she had considered a friend when she tried to help him overcome his drug abuse. Rebecca listened to each of their stories, and they all touched her heart with their tales of bravery and survival.

  As the circle of girls shared their experiences, there were tears—tears of regret, of pain, and of fear. Yet, there were also tales of victory—of overcoming the fear and taking back their lives. When the meeting was over, more than one of the girls came up to Rebecca to thank her for giving them a safe haven—a place to talk without judgment. As she gathered her things and headed to the car where Justyn was waiting, Rebecca realized she had accomplished something great. The man who had attacked her had tried to take away her power, but she had just taken that power back. Even more importantly, she had given that power back to other women as well. Like Darlene had said, everything happens for a reason. For the first time since the attack, Rebecca no longer felt like a victim.

  Justyn looked up to greet her as she climbed into the passenger seat. When he noticed her red eyes, he immediately snapped his book shut, without even bothering to mark his page.

  “How did it go?”

  “It was good.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I think it helped a lot of people.”

  “I’m so proud of you, Becca.” He reached across the seat to give her hand a squeeze as he started up the car. “You took a horrible experience and not only overcame it, but turned it into something positive. There aren’t many people brave enough to do that. I know I’ve said this before, but you really are my hero.”

  Rebecca felt her eyes filling up again and had to clear her throat. “It means so much to hear you say that, especially after how awful I was to you.”

  “You were never awful, Becca,” Justyn assured her. “You were just hurt and needed to deal with it in your own way. I always knew you would get through it. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

  She put a hand on his knee. “I’m stronger with you beside me.”

  Justyn was still holding her hand and beaming with pride as he pulled into parking lot. When he stepped out of the car, the smile instantly died on his lips. Quinn was sitting on the sidewalk just outside their building, waiting for them.

  Quinn had been avoiding them as much as possible in the week since Megan’s departure. The police had already come back to question Rebecca again, to see if there was any chance Quinn might be their suspect. Her answers were much the same as the initial interview. She hadn’t seen the man’s face, so it was hard to say whether it was Quinn or not. Without a positive I.D. or any real evidence, they couldn’t prosecute him. The other students, however, could, and did. Quinn was pretty much an outcast. Though at the moment, he hardly seemed guilty of anything other than the deepest despair. He looked as desperate and forlorn as Anthony looked when he watched Johanna at her window, desperate to prove his love. Only his Johanna was gone for good. Megan had gone home as promised. She had even changed her cell phone number. Not even Rebecca could get in touch with her.

  As Rebecca studied the pathetic look on Quinn’s face, she felt only sorrow for him. Justyn, on the other hand, looked as if he would have happily made good use of Sweeney Todd’s razor if only he had it handy. She was certain Quinn could feel the animosity directed at him, because he jumped to his feet. When he made eye contact with Justyn, he swallowed hard and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket awkwardly.

&
nbsp; “Hey guys,” he said and then sighed when after a full minute no one else spoke. “Justyn, you look like you’re about ready to kill me. I guess I can’t blame you. If I were in your place, I’d want to kill me too…”

  Justyn didn’t say anything. He just stared at Quinn with the same terrible, furious stare the demon barber so often bestowed on his hapless victims. Rebecca could tell by the way Quinn kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other that he was nervous. Yet, still, he stood his ground and didn’t back down.

  “Quinn, what are you doing…?” Rebecca started

  “It wasn’t me!” he cut her off. “I swear it wasn’t me! I didn’t hurt Becca or Megan … oh, Jesus, poor Megan.” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I … I was falling in love with her. You have to know I would never … I would never hurt her like that.”

  The outburst left Quinn exhausted and Rebecca with her mouth hanging open, but Justyn was still eerily silent and unmoved. He was actually freaking Rebecca out more than Quinn. When he had that blank stare on his face, it made her wonder how far he would take his quest for vengeance if he had the opportunity to pursue it.

  Eventually, Quinn collapsed back onto the curb of the sidewalk and put his head in his hands, looking broken and miserable. Rebecca took advantage of the moment and studied him. She considered his movements, his gestures. She looked at the size of his hands and the length of his arms. Then, though she hated to do it, she forced herself to go back to that day in the woods. She compared the two men, and she just couldn’t see any similarities between Quinn and her attacker. He seemed a little thinner, his hands much smaller. And his delicate voice didn’t seem capable of the gruff, heartless mumbles Rebecca couldn’t easily forget.

  “You guys really hate me, huh?” Quinn said after several minutes had passed with no response to his announcement.

  “You have no idea what I—”

  “I believe him,” Rebecca announced suddenly, interrupting Justyn before any official death threats could be made.

  “Really?” Quinn and Justyn both asked in eerie synchronization, though one voice was hopeful while the latter was filled with only disbelief.

  “Becca, you told the police you couldn’t be sure … that you never saw his face.”

  “I’m just going on instinct here,” Rebecca admitted. “I just don’t think Quinn was the one who hurt me.”

  “I wasn’t,” Quinn agreed. She never thought she saw anyone looked so relieved in her life. “I mean, it couldn’t have been me. I was home sick just like the rest of the cast the day Becca was….” He paused, not sure how to continue, and looked down at the ground.

  “Then why have you been avoiding us?” Justyn demanded.

  Quinn kicked the dirt with his sneakers. “I … I was worried that I might scare Becca. When I tried to see Megan, she totally lost it. I realized afterward what a totally stupid idea it was, but I just, you know, wanted to see if she was okay. After the way she reacted….” He shook his head. “I was afraid I might freak Becca out too, and I didn’t want to make the same dumb mistake twice. I just wanted to give her some time to think things through before I tried to talk to her.”

  “So why are you here now?” Rebecca asked.

  “I heard you talked to the cops and didn’t point the finger at me,” Quinn explained. “It meant a lot to me and gave me a little bit of hope. I don’t care anymore if everyone else on campus treats me like a leper, but you guys are my friends. I want you to believe me. And I know the first step is to explain why I never told you about that other girl.”

  Justyn took a deep breath. Rebecca could see he was trying to keep an open mind, but it was a struggle for him. “We’re listening,” he said.

  Quinn nodded. “Her name was Tess. We were both in the chorus last spring when we did Oklahoma. We got paired to dance together in the barnyard scene. We hit it off, so we went out on a date. It was just one date. We didn’t really click, you know? So we agreed we’d just be friends, and it was all good. It was only about a week later that she got hurt. There were never any official accusations, but people still looked at me funny. The girls all avoided me. Even some of the guys acted weird. But over summer break, everyone seemed to forget about it. I didn’t want to rehash it. I really liked Megan and I didn’t want to scare her away.” He shrugged. “So I just didn’t bring it up.”

  The reasoning made sense to Rebecca. She’d had a taste of being the outcast herself, and she knew it wasn’t any fun. It explained his silence, but it still seemed odd that two girls Quinn had been interested in met the same end. Of course, Justyn was on the same wavelength.

  “It still seems like a too much of a coincidence.”

  “That’s just it,” Quinn told them. “I don’t think it was a coincidence. There was someone else in the play that was always after Megan and Tess, only neither of them was interested in him. He was always being crude, making hand gestures, and saying inappropriate things, even trying to rub up against them whenever he could. When you think about it, he’s done the exact same thing to Becca since day one. Actually, he does it to all the girls.”

  Rebecca found herself nodding. There was only one cast member who was always harassing her. Chad had his moments, calling her Jerseylicious and occasionally acting like an immature idiot. But Chad only had eyes for Livy. It was his sneering sidekick who had trouble keeping his hands to himself.

  “There’s more,” Quinn continued. “After you two left the party, I never did find Megan again. I went back inside to look for her. I saw Chad trying to calm Livy down, but there was no sign of Scott, even though he’s usually up Chad’s butt twenty-four seven. He was M.I.A., just like Megan.”

  “So what you’re saying is that Scott….” Justyn started.

  “Yes.” Quinn nodded and finished the sentence for him, “I’m saying I think Scott is the rapist.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Justyn slammed his locker shut as Scott and Chad passed by. Their boisterous laughs sounded more like snorts, and they were even more hyper than usual. They nudged each other back and forth, and they were literally bouncing off the walls. Now that she was aware of it, it was also hard for Rebecca to miss the telltale signs of their habit. They were constantly sniffing, and while Chad seemed to carry a few tissues in his pocket, Scott was content to use the sleeve of his costume. Justyn gave them a cold, hard stare that was so vicious it would have made Sweeney Todd proud as he watched them pack their plain clothes into their lockers.

  It was the very first dress rehearsal of Demon Barber, and the whole cast was in full costume. The transformations were amazing, thanks to the help of the professional makeup artists and costume designers in training. Chad was no longer the missing link of some boy band, but a grizzled, haggard old man, complete with graying hair and wrinkles. If she hadn’t known it was him by his arrogant voice, Rebecca wouldn’t have even recognized him. Scott, too, had undergone a complete metamorphosis. With his bulky frame and shaved head, he had always looked like he’d fit in better on a football field than the stage. Now he had a black wig complete with matching mustache and old-world goatee so lifelike, he might have stepped through a time capsule. Both boys were dressed in the shirttails and starched collars of the late eighteenth century, common for the upper class of London. Scott’s attire even came complete with a top hat, cane, and dangling pocket watch.

  Everyone looked amazing in their period costumes. Yet no one looked more in character than Justyn. His wore the simple weather-beaten garments of the commoner, complete with black suspenders and bedraggled shirttails, but despite his lower-class apparel, he still managed to outshine his aristocratic co-stars. The long black coat, though patched and worn, accentuated his muscular frame, and stood in stark contrast to his pale complexion. He had removed his piercings and even foregone his black nail polish so as not to ruin the illusion of having stepped back in time. It was something he always managed to accomplish with grace. There was no time or place that Justyn could
not meld into when he wanted to. No persona he couldn’t manipulate and make into his own creation.

  At the moment, as Justyn glared first at Chad and Scott, and then moved his unforgiving gaze to Quinn, he had certainly taken on the persona of Sweeney Todd. Both on and off the stage, his feelings were in tune with those of the character he portrayed. He seemed consumed by the need for revenge. His hands trembled with barely contained fury as he lifted his wig onto his head, completing the Demon Barber ensemble. His anger issues were affecting more than just his relationship with his cast mates. His schoolwork was suffering and he was getting headaches almost every day. She knew he just wanted to keep her safe, but it made Rebecca worry. She didn’t want him jeopardizing his scholarship or his health trying to protect her from whispers and rumors.

  “I should just kill all of them,” Justyn grumbled, his lips set in a frown. “It would be doing the world a service.”

  “No playing vigilante please, Mr. T.,” Rebecca teased, though she knew he was serious. “Let’s just concentrate on getting through rehearsal. You look amazing, by the way. I can’t believe you talked P.C. into letting you use that crazy wig.”

  Justyn shrugged, and much to Rebecca’s relief, finally seemed to forget about his multiple adversaries, at least for the moment. “I just pointed out to Professor Carter that the costume from the movie actually fit the description of Sweeney Todd’s hair in the original novel. ‘Probably it came nearest to what one might suppose to be the appearance of a thickset hedge, in which a quantity of small wire had got entangled. In truth, it was a most terrific head of hair, and as Sweeney Todd kept all his combs in it—some said his scissors, likewise—when he put his head out of the shop-door to see what sort of weather it was, he might have been mistaken for some Indian warrior with a very remarkable headdress’.”

  Rebecca laughed at the ludicrous description. It was certainly accurate, but she still shook her head in wonder at Justyn’s innate ability to recite verbatim from the classic novel Sweeney Todd or a String of Pearls.