If I Fall

by Lydia Michaels

  “When was the last time you had intercourse?”

  “Um…” She swallowed hard. “I guess I would have to say Thursday night.”

  “Have you noticed any spotting or bleeding?”

  “No. My cycle isn’t due until the end of the month.”

  “I wasn’t referring to your cycle. There’s some inflammation around your cervix. It seems to be bleeding from even a light touch. That’s okay, I just wanted to know if you’re in any pain or had any noticeable hemorrhaging.”

  “No,” she croaked as a tear rolled into her hairline. She still felt tender but it was difficult to tell if that was emotional scarring or physical injury. Life rapidly become heavy and far too real.

  There were no words to explain the degree to which she’d been violated. Desecrated. Chills covered her body in a swoop of discomfort that swallowed her whole.

  Removing the speculum, Lily patted her knee. “You can sit up.”

  Wiping her eyes, she adjusted her top to cover her lower half.

  “Ok, sweetie here’s the deal. I found no early symptoms of any noticeable STDs that would be evident at this point, but that’s what the blood screening’s for. However, you have a bruised cervix. It’s nothing dangerous or anything that won’t heal, but I am going to recommend that you refrain from intercourse for about three weeks and don’t use tampons during your next cycle.” She smiled. “And next time, try not to be so rough.”

  In a failed attempt to match her levity, Jade choked on an “Okay” and a sob flung past her lips. Her fingers covered her mouth, but it was too late. She burst into tears.

  “Oh, sweetie, come here.” Lily pulled her into a nurturing embrace, which only made Jade cry harder. “Shh, shh, shh. It’s okay. I told you, it’s not a big deal. I see it a lot and once your blood work comes back you’ll realize all of these tears were likely for nothing.”

  She had to stop doing this. Pulling back, she scrubbed her palms roughly over her face and forced her composure into place. Nodding quickly, she said, “I understand.”

  Lily’s manicured brows drew together. “Jade, are you sure that I’m the only person you should be talking to? If something happened, something involving your body without your permission, you have rights.” Lowering her voice, she asked, “Did someone do something to you?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she met her friend’s intense stare and shook her head, lips pursing as more tears fell. “I can’t remember.”

  Lily stilled. “What do you mean, you can’t remember?”

  “I’ve tried … for days! But it isn’t even blurry. It’s just … blank!”

  “Okay.” The doctor nodded, glancing around as if the answers were written on the walls. “We need to talk about this, but I want you to be calm. Why don’t you get dressed and then you can start at the beginning. I’m going to—”

  “You can’t tell anyone!”

  “Of course not. Jade, I told you, we share doctor-patient confidentiality, under all circumstances. Plus, we’re friends. You can trust me. We’re just going to talk, but we’ll have more privacy in my office. Maybe it’ll help you to remember.”

  Jade relaxed a little, but not enough to clear her blurry vision. She nodded and released the death grip she had on Lily’s lab coat. “I don’t… I don’t want to talk here.” This was her hospital too. She didn’t want to chance anyone seeing her upset and asking questions.

  “Okay. Then we’ll go to my place. Let me just tell the nurse I’m leaving for the day.”

  Two hours later Jade was curled up on Lily’s couch, pouring the last drop of wine from a bottle of red.

  “Did you call the cops? Even if you don’t want to report the rape, your personal items were stolen.”

  “Only the stuff in my wallet. He didn’t take anything else and my laptop and iPad were in plain sight. I called all my credit card companies. They weren’t used.”

  He’d only used her. Shakily, she reached for her wine glass.

  “Do you think it could have been this Jeremy?” Lily kept her expression neutral, but Jade spotted the assumption in her eyes. Jeremy was the last man she saw that night. But it wasn’t him.

  “No. Jeremy’s a good guy. Plus, he’s fiercely protective of his friends. Besides, I’m fairly certain Kat did an extensive background check on him before she let him back into Mia’s life.”

  “Why would she do that if he’s completely trustworthy?”

  “It had nothing to do with his character. Kat’s just crazy. Besides, I know Jeremy. I trust him. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. What do you remember about the bar? Was it full or empty?”

  “It was sort of full, but it was a Thursday night. Bars are usually busy on Thursdays regardless.”

  “What about the people there? Was the bartender a man or a woman?”

  “A man. I don’t remember much else, except that Jeremy left around 9:04 p.m.”

  “Right, because of your text from Kat. When he left, did he pay the tab?”

  She thought for a minute. This was where her memory fizzled. “I think so. I don’t remember signing anything. I should ask him, but I’m trying to avoid that.”

  “Maybe you should go back to the bar to see if it jogs your memory. You could also contact your bank to see if you paid the tab and, while you’re at it, check the time on the receipt.”

  “That’s a good idea about the bank, but I can’t even go into my apartment without losing it. I doubt I could walk into that bar. Thanks, by the way, for letting me crash here tonight.”

  Lily gestured, putting up a hand. “No problem. But what if the bartender remembers something? If you want, I can go with you for moral support.”

  “What if I find something out I don’t want to know? Like, what if this is all my fault? Or what if it was the bartender?”

  “It doesn’t matter if you were running around flashing people and offering to blow the entire bar. The moment someone has sex with someone whose judgment’s too impaired to give consent, they’re committing sexual assault. None of this is your fault, Jade. Drugged or just plain plastered, they’re in the wrong, not you.”

  “I must’ve been drugged. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. I only had a couple drinks and I was fine when Jeremy was there. How long does it take for drugs like that to take effect?”

  Lily eased back, holding her glass to her chest as she crossed her arms. “Well, it depends. With Rohypnol, the sedative effects appear approximately thirty to forty-five minutes after the drugs ingested. The effects can last between four and twelve hours. Different doses and body types make it difficult to know exactly.”

  “Will something like that show up in my lab results?”

  “Its compounds will show up in urine for at least five days. We might’ve missed that window, but if you give me a sample of your hair it can be traced for up to a month after ingesting even a single dose.”

  “Do you think that’s what I was given?”

  She tilted her head. “I think it’s a good possibility. It’s easy to get. It can incapacitate victims, preventing them from resisting sexual assault. It can produce anterograde amnesia, which means individuals may not remember experiences following the introduction of the drug. But there are plenty of other drugs out there that do the same.”

  Jade definitely wanted the lab to take a sample of her hair. She hesitated to go to the police because her experience with victims at the hospital didn’t give her much hope. There was so much exposure and shame and she’d yet to see any real consequence for the predators, even when they were caught. Even if by some miracle she figured out who hurt her, she didn’t expect him to ever know the pain she now lived with.

  That was the fucked up truth about sexual assault. There was no justice, hardly ever any outside witnesses, and the penalty could never match the crime. If she had her way, it would be an eye for an eye. Either that, or rapists should have their dicks cut o
ff. Maybe have predator tattooed across their face. But the reality was, most convicted rapists served less than six years. The length of time she’d carry the consequence of some sick fuck’s actions… It was a life sentence.

  Perhaps she’d speak to someone at the police station eventually, but for now, she was more worried about finding her own peace. That seemed a more realistic goal than any sort of blind revenge.

  Chapter Seven

  Jade awoke in yet another unfamiliar room to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She blindly fumbled around until the ringing stopped. As she drifted back to sleep the ringing started again. Holding the phone close to her face, she squinted at the screen but didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?” Too much wine and too many tears left her voice sounding like she’d swallowed a fist full of razorblades.

  “Jade?”

  “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Jeremy. Why aren’t you answering the door?”

  “What door?” She was so not a morning person.

  “The door to your apartment.”

  “Oh.”

  Wait, what?

  Sweeping the knotted clump of hair from her eyes, she bolted upright. “Are you at my door?”

  “Yes. I’ve been knocking for ten minutes.” He sounded irritated.

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to see how you were today and I brought you coffee.”

  Aww… he brought me coffee. She smiled. “Who made the coffee?”

  “I bought it.” He exhaled into the phone. “Jade, do you think you could let me in?”

  This is exactly why you need to get your life back to normal! Look what you’re missing.

  She sighed. “I’m not there.” There was a long moment of silence. Still going. Silence. Nothing, but crickets. “Jeremy?” She looked at the phone but they were still connected. Why was he being so—

  “Where are you?” he growled.

  “I spent the night at a friend’s.”

  “What kind of friend, Jade?”

  She hadn’t done anything to deserve that tone. “A co-worker. Jeremy, look, it’s nothing you have to worry about. Dr. Bishop’s a—”

  “It’s fine,” he interrupted. “I’ll just see you around.”

  He didn’t sound fine, he sounded pissed. “Jeremy, wait a second—” The phone disconnected. Son of a bitch!

  Despite her frustration, the idea of a jealous Jeremy did delicious things to her insides. She smirked and fell back on the bed, savoring the simplicity of normal boy girl politics over the much more complicated adult man woman bullshit. “He likes me.”

  Jeremy observed everything but only spoke when there was something important to say. It was interesting to see his usually unfailingly confidence waver because she couldn’t recall ever seeming him anything but self-assured.

  They really were polar opposites. She was elegant but sometimes clumsy and clever but never shut up. Her life was a constant string of blunders and social fails, but her sense of humor made it easy to laugh at herself. She had a good heart and always apologized when she inadvertently upset someone else.

  She didn’t like to wallow in sorrow, which was why she preferred her usually bubbly personality to her recent one. Her sense of humor might not cure cancer, but it often relieved a bit of the pain for her patients. Laughter was amazing medicine, and perhaps the one thing she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy since her ordeal.

  As she showered and dressed her mind drifted around thoughts of Jeremy. And Thursday night. Back and forth, back and forth.

  She growled. Part of her was grateful for the blackout. Not knowing what happened to her was its own form of torture, but recalling the actual assault could be worse. Torn between wanting to know and wanting to hold onto her ignorance—and her remaining shred of sanity—she weighed her options.

  She wanted to put the whole, gory fiasco behind her. Involving the police might only drag things out, though she should let them know a predator was in the area. Staggered by the thought, she stilled.

  What if he was doing this to multiple women? She suddenly had a responsibility to notify the cops, regardless if it led to more embarrassment and a fruitless search with little evidence—she couldn’t stomach the idea of someone else suffering what she’d suffered.

  Her shoulders slumped as a new weight bore down on her. There was a dark humiliation that came with rape. Despite being victimized, she couldn’t shake the nagging sense of guilt. It was wrong to feel responsible for someone else’s crime, but as irrational as the emotion was, it lingered.

  This is probably why survivors seek therapy. I should probably look into that.

  She wasn’t mentally prepared to go down that avenue, at least not yet. But once the idea of speaking to a professional crossed her mind the more inevitable the outcome seemed. Spending an hour in some cold office, gushing over a trauma she couldn’t remember and desperately wanted to forget… The idea held zero appeal. But the hope of getting over this and coming out normal? That was what she wanted most.

  She was procrastinating. Not the healthiest choice, but the reality of the situation was daunting. She didn’t want to be a statistic or a victim. She wanted to be herself—a survivor. Whole. But the truth was someone did something to her that forever changed her and the old her, the fearless, worry-free girl she was a few days ago… She died the second someone stole something she couldn’t get back.

  She needed to face this whether she wanted to or not. Denial might be the only defense mechanism she had at the moment, and even that was wearing thin.

  Chapter Eight

  Jade pulled into Jeremy’s driveway and was relieved to find his Jeep parked by the back of the house. Not sure if she should knock at the front or the back door, she hesitated. After building up her confidence, she decided to take the first step confronting this thing they were flirting with—be it a disaster or just an accidental hook up. Grabbing the caddy of coffee, she headed toward the backdoor.

  Yellow siding, trimmed in white, wrapped the house. The small rear deck was cluttered with flats of flowerpots. A grill, a Barbie bike with training wheels, and two Adirondack chairs, one for a child and one for an adult, furnished the patio.

  He’d said his house was only for him and Mia. The truth was adorably evident in every object she passed.

  She tapped lightly on the screen door. Music played from somewhere within the house, so she knocked a little harder and waited. When he didn’t respond, she shifted her purse and the coffee and opened the door.

  “Jeremy?” Following the obscenely loud music toward the hall, she pushed the cellar door open. “Jeremy?”

  Metal clanked over the music as she took a hesitant step down the stairs. A long desk filled the corner with four computers resting on top. There was an empty office chair and files neatly piled by a modem. Descending two more steps, she peeked under the drop ceiling and sucked in a sharp breath.

  An outdated sound system, with speakers the size of mini fridges filled the far corner next to a weight bench. Facing the wall, barefoot and in only his jeans, Jeremy pulled his body off the ground with a bar attached to the ceiling. Holy back muscles, Batman!

  His knees bent, calves curling behind him as he pulled his weight off the ground in one graceful lift. His arms bulged as veins stretched under his damp flesh. Dew coated his skin, his musky scent filling the air.

  Her stomach cartwheeled at the whoosh of his breath coming through his teeth as he exerted himself. Dear Lord! Tendons and sinew pulsed and twitched at his shoulders and down his back—Come to Momma.

  She carefully placed the coffee on the edge of the desk, tempted to run her fingers over his bunching muscles and write her name in his glistening sweat. Every swell of brawn tightened with each repetition. A spattering of jagged scars disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. He probably looked incredible in his military fatigues.

  Prepared to make herself comfortable and enjoy the show, she grinned. Jeremy released his grip
on the bar and dropped to his feet with a grunt of force. He turned and froze.

  Biting her lip, she gave diminutive finger wave. “Hi.”

  His expression remained blank as he reached for a remote on the weight bench and muted the stereo.

  Silence.

  “I like that song.”

  “Don’t you knock?” He breathed heavily as he mopped the sweat from his neck with a hand towel.

  “I did knock. You didn’t hear me.”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Maybe I didn’t care,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work.

  “Are you on your way to a shift?”

  She frowned then followed his gaze. She was still in her scrubs from the day before. “Uh, no. I don’t go in until tomorrow at three.”

  “Ah, so you came here right from your sleepover.” He turned, tossing the towel into a laundry basket.

  If he wanted to be a jerk and make assumptions, fine. “That’s right.”

  “What do you want, Jade?”

  Okay, he didn’t like being baited. “I brought you coffee.” She pointed to the caddy on the desk. “You know … an olive branch, for not being home this morning.”

  He looked at the coffee but made no move to retrieve it or even say thank you.

  “Jeremy, about last night—”

  “I have work to do, Jade.” Snatching his shirt off the weight bench he yanked it over his head, successfully ruining her view. Well, if he was gonna be a dick…

  “Look, Jeremy, I don’t know what you think happened—”

  “I don’t care, nor is it any of my business. Like I said, I have work to do, so if you could just go out the way you came in…” He walked right past her, as if she were invisible, and sat at his desk.

  Bristling, and a little hurt, her smile faltered. “God, I never realized you could be such an asshole.” Snatching her purse off the floor, she took the stairs.

  What a douchebag! He didn’t have all the details and who was he, anyway, to act like she wasn’t allowed to sleep out? He had no claim on her. For a year she’d done everything to get his attention. Just because he finally felt ready to make a move did not entitle him to some sort of claim over her.