Coach Tanner was, for once, in his office. He smiled when he saw Nick standing in the doorway, but it evaporated a heartbeat later when he noticed the sling. “Ah, damn. First, what happened? Second, how long are you going to be out?”
“I got into a fight, and I’ll be out the rest of the season because I’m quitting football.”
“You don’t get into fights. And what’s this about quitting? How bad is it?”
“The shoulder’s not bad,” Nick replied and explained the damage.
“Well, hell, you’ll be back in top shape in six weeks. Eight tops.”
“That’s not why I’m quitting. I can’t play on the same team with a certain individual anymore. Not after what he did last night.”
“Which player?”
“I imagine you’ll figure it out when you see him at practice this afternoon, if you don’t see him before.”
“Please don’t quit, Nick.”
“I don’t really have a choice.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Coach Tanner. I really am.”
He left abruptly, hating the feeling that he was letting his coach down, and went about securing assignments for his and Beth’s classes. Every professor he talked to asked the same questions, made the same disbelieving comments about his explanation for the sling and cuts, and offered sympathy and well wishes for Beth, who he said was simply not feeling well. It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. It was going to feel even worse when it was Michelle asking those questions.
Working out less evasive answers occupied his mind all the way to her room on the third floor of Mathews Hall at the very end of the wing farthest from his dorm.
He knocked on her door. “It’s Nick.”
“Come on in, babe!” she answered.
He turned the knob, disturbed that it was unlocked. Shaking it off—everything was the same in her world as it had been yesterday morning even if it wasn’t in his—he stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. It took a conscious effort not to turn the latch on the lock.
She had her back to him, tidying up her room. “Don’t you have a class right now?” she asked.
“I skipped it,” he replied.
He glanced up at the gables over her windows, his favorite feature of her room. They made it so much more interesting than the rest of the boring rectangular rooms on campus.
“I didn’t know you ever skipped classes.” Satisfied that her room was in order, she at last turned to face him. Shock widened her eyes. “Good lord, what happened?”
“If only you knew how many times I have answered that question already today,” he murmured, tilting his head to kiss her.
The emotional roller coaster and sleepless hours caught up with him, and he sank onto the corner of her bed, unable to stand any longer. She sat beside him with a frown pinching her brows. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him. One-armed, he hugged her back and let out a ragged sigh. When she combed her fingers back through his hair, he let his eyes slide closed. For the first time in hours, his mind was devoid of almost everything but Michelle’s gentle caresses and a vague guilt for indulging himself with his girlfriend for even a handful of moments while Beth sat alone and scared in his room.
“Are you going to tell me?” she asked after a moment. “When I called you last night, you were safe and sound in the dorms.”
“At that point, I was.”
“Nick, I’m not kidding. What the hell happened to you?”
He struggled to pull his thoughts together in something that resembled a coherent explanation, but his mind was foggy. “I got into a fight with Trey.”
“Christ. Why?”
“Beth.”
Michelle sat back abruptly, eyes wide with shock and betrayal, and he cursed his inability to articulate. Why wouldn’t the words cooperate? The whole scene was there, ablaze at the forefront of his mind, sending waves of bitterness crashing through him.
He was exhausted. That had to be it.
Shaking his head, he said, “It’s not how that sounded.”
“Then how is it?”
“She and Trey broke up, and she needed a friend and someplace safe last night, so she stayed with me.”
“She what?”
He dropped his head into his hand, then scrubbed his fingers through his hair, fighting to find the right words to alleviate her worry. He could hardly fault her for jumping to the wrong conclusion.
He trembled, teetering too close the cliff’s edge, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d be pulled into the swirling tide of anger and despair again. For several long minutes, he didn’t respond, and gradually, Michelle’s outrage shifted back toward worry.
“Have I ever—even once—given you any reason to doubt my loyalty or my commitment to you?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No. You haven’t,” she replied softly.
“I need you to trust me now. What happened last night was terrible. It’s going to take Beth a long time to recover from it, and I need to be there for my friend.”
At last, Nick thought he’d found the right words. Michelle studied him for a while, frowning. Finally, she took a deep breath. Then the tension eased out of her body. “Why did she and Trey break up?”
“I can’t say. But it was bad. Worse than….” He shook his head, unable to say the words out loud, certain that doing so would bring the whole despicable scene crashing back into the forefront of his mind. It was worse than anything I’ve ever experienced.
“And you felt the need to get into a fist fight with him over it?”
“Yes.”
“How bad is the arm?”
After he explained the prognosis, she offered him a faint smile of relief.
“That’s not so bad. It’ll fly by. But please tell me he looks worse than you.”
“I don’t really know. I haven’t seen him since I left him half-conscious on Beth’s floor.”
“What did he do to make you do that? I mean, you’re Mr. Mellow.”
“Can you accept that he deserved it? Because I really can’t say any more than that.”
“I suppose I’ll have to.”
Nick hugged her again. “I’m sorry, Michelle.”
“For what?”
“That I can’t be more open with you about this.”
“I suppose it’s really none of my business. And besides, if I were in her position—whatever that is—I’d be glad to have a friend like you there to pull me back up.”
She leaned back in his embrace and took his face in her hands, then kissed each cheek before claiming his mouth. He couldn’t say if she was trying to remind him that he was hers—and not Beth’s—or if she was simply attempting to distract him from his troublesome thoughts. Either way, he appreciated it. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, almost begging her to help him forget everything that had happened last night, but the moment desire ignited, guilt put it in check. He’d told Beth he’d be back in an hour or two, and it had already been almost three.
“I need to go check on her,” he murmured. “To be continued?”
“You bet,” she replied. “Maybe tonight, if Beth is feeling all right.”
“You’re on. And you’re amazing, you know that?”
“Don’t you forget it.”
“Impossible.”
When he returned to his dorm, Beth was still on the couch, asleep. Relief saturated his brain. As he opened his mini-fridge to pull his ice pack out of its tiny freezer, he noticed the shirt he’d worn last night sitting on top where Beth had left it. When he picked it up to toss it in his laundry hamper, a small box tumbled to the floor. He stooped to pick it up and glanced at the label. Curious, he skimmed the label and pulled the foil-backed plastic tray out. One pill was already gone, and there was only one other.
Emergency contraception, he thought dumbly, frowning as comprehension evaded him.
Then it hit him.
Thoughts ransacked Nick’s mind of Beth pregnant, of having her body subjected to further
violation, and of watching her struggle to bond with a child that would remind her every day for the rest of her life of the pain and terror she’d already survived. Quivering with a rage stronger than any that had ever consumed him, he slid to the floor. With his back against the mini-fridge, he balled his free hand into a fist and fought the seething desire to hunt Trey down and beat him until he was unrecognizable.
If these don’t work, he vowed, glancing at the box still clutched in his hand, I will bury him.
To subvert those foreign and disturbing impulses, he forced himself to read the instructions. When he skimmed over the rest of the information provided, he was relieved to note the high effectiveness rate. Rage gave way to grief, and he pinched his eyes closed to keep it all locked inside so he didn’t wake Beth. He concentrated on his breathing and prayed nothing more would come of the rape, and bit by bit, he was able to regain control of himself.
“Nick?”
He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the sound of her frightened voice. She stood close by still wearing his flannel with her arms folded tightly around herself.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when he said nothing.
He shook his head, unable to explain his thoughts even if he were willing to trouble her with them, and held up the box. “When did you take the first one?”
“At the hospital, so I guess around two this morning.”
“So you’ll need to take the second an hour or two after lunch.”
She nodded, and he cursed under his breath as she bit her lip and her eyes again filled. He held his arm out in invitation, and she sat on the floor beside him, curled into his side.
“I’m scared,” She murmured. “I can’t have a baby. Not like this. What if—”
“Don’t think like that, Beth. Everything will be fine,” he replied, unsure if he was trying to reassure her or himself. “Everything will be all right.”
Time passed outside of their notice, but eventually, the increasing ache in his shoulder drove him off the floor. He helped Beth up and grabbed his ice pack out of the freezer before joining her on the couch. Exhaustion settled over him, and he barely stayed awake long enough to finish icing his shoulder. He glanced at Beth. She was asleep again, so he returned his ice pack to the freezer, headed into his bedroom, set his alarm to wake him up for lunch and to make sure Beth took the second pill on time, and crashed on his bed. This time, he was finally worn down enough that he greeted sleep like a long lost friend, eagerly and gratefully.
Five
Beth waited impatiently on Nick’s couch while he stood in the hallway and talked with his girlfriend, wishing they could just head out to Northstar already. True, she could have left last night, but Nick had had hall patrol until midnight last night—a regular part of his RA duties—and the thought of facing her family without him there to support her had terrified her enough that she had decided to wait. At any rate, they hadn’t told either her parents or his that he wasn’t playing football anymore, and neither family was expecting them until later today. Saturday. Had it already been three days? Or only three days?
Neil Ericksen had repaired her door Thursday morning, but she hadn’t been able to stay in her room for more than five minutes. Fear of Trey returning, more so even than the memory of Wednesday night, had so consumed her that she had spent most of her time hiding in Nick’s room. She felt guilty for letting him take the brunt of the inquiries about her, but she couldn’t face anyone yet. Not when the bruises and friction burns were still so vivid. She tugged on the sleeves of her long-sleeved T-shirt to cover her wrists.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come out to the ranch?” Nick was asking Michelle.
“I should go home and visit my folks since it’s a long weekend,” his girlfriend replied. “Besides, I already told them I was coming.”
“All right. Tell them hi for me.”
“I will.”
Beth folded her arms across her chest and drummed her fingers as jealousy trickled. It was followed quickly by self-loathing. Nick had spent nearly every waking hour with her since Trey’s assault, and his girlfriend had been nothing but understanding and surprisingly supportive without knowing exactly why. Beth knew she should expect nothing less of Nick than to reassure Michelle of his devotion, but right now, she didn’t want to share him with anyone, least of all his tall, beautiful, and entirely too self-assured girlfriend.
When Nick leaned in to kiss Michelle, Beth had to avert her gaze. Why did it bother her so much? She’d seen them kiss at least half a dozen times during their double date with her and Trey, and it hadn’t annoyed her then.
She rolled her shoulders to work out some of the tension that had gathered. They couldn’t get out to Northstar fast enough, and yet… the idea of opening up about the rape even to her family, who she knew would support her, overwhelmed her.
Can’t stay here, but afraid to go home.
“Beth? Are you ready to head out?” Nick asked.
She was shocked to see him standing in front of her. When had Michelle left?
“Y-yeah,” she stammered. “I am.”
“You all right?”
“I was just thinking about telling my parents about the….”
He waited almost half a minute before he finished her sentence. “About the rape.”
“Why can’t I say it?”
“I don’t know, but I think you’re giving the word too much power.” He held out his hand and helped her up. She tripped over her own feet and crashed into him, accidentally grabbing his injured shoulder to steady herself. He grimaced.
“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t…. How is your shoulder?”
“It’s fine.”
“I mean, how was your shoulder before I hit it?”
“About the same as it was when you asked an hour ago. I appreciate your concern, but would you please stop killing yourself over it? I’ll be fine. Honestly, Beth, it’s not that bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And stop apologizing. I’ve heard ‘I’m sorry’ so many times that I would honestly prefer a hearty ‘screw you’ right now.”
“Fine. Screw you.”
“Better. Thank you.” He gave her another one-armed hug and pushed her toward the door. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
The drive out to Northstar was blissful. Nick followed her in his truck, and she cranked her music. For forty-five minutes, she was able to pretend that nothing had happened on Wednesday and that she was heading home for a weekend filled with ranch work, horseback riding, and plenty of laughter with her family. By the time she turned off the main highway and onto the Northstar Mountains Scenic Byway, she was wishing she had thought to go for a drive before now.
That good feeling vanished, however, when she pulled up in front of her parents’ house on her family’s ranch and stared at the two-story house with its wrap-around porch, silvered wood siding, and deep red trim with conflicting feelings of relief and trepidation. How on earth was she going to tell her parents and her brother that she’d been raped? That Trey, whom her father adored, was not the brilliant star or devoted boyfriend they all believed?
A knock on her window drew her attention away, and she saw Nick standing outside her door.
“You coming or what?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just… give me a minute.”
With nervousness quivering through her, she finally turned her car off and opened her door. Nick was there, just like he had been for the last three days, waiting to assist her however she needed. She truly was blessed, she thought, to have a friend like him to help her through this. He was so caring and compassionate, and though she knew he felt she needed to talk about the rape and report it, he hadn’t pushed her.
It couldn’t be easy on him. His innate honesty bucked against what probably felt like a deception to him, and that made her appreciate him all the more. Maybe that was at the root of her sudden envy of Michelle. If she’d found someone more like Nick to date…. She shook her head, un
able to finish the thought. Thinking like that wasn’t going to make this any easier. Standing straighter, she walked up to the house.
“Beth, honey, what are you doing home?” her mother greeted as soon as Beth stepped through the front door. “I thought you weren’t coming home this weekend. And isn’t there a football game today?”
“Yes, but I didn’t go.” Beth glanced behind her at Nick, who was just entering.
“Why not?”
“Well, this is one reason,” Nick replied, gesturing to his shoulder.
Natalie Carlyle gasped and stepped over to him. With the depth of concern she reserved only for people she genuinely cared about, Beth’s mother gently took his chin and turned his head so she could inspect the cut on his cheek. Before she could ask what had happened, Nick assured her with his usual charming smile in place that it wasn’t bad as bad as it looked.
Beth couldn’t help but notice the mild exasperation in his voice. How many times in the past few days had he been asked that question and the others that undoubtedly came with it?
No, it’s not as bad as it looks. She scowled. It’s way worse.
“As to what happened,” Nick added, “that’s something Beth needs to tell you.”
Her mother frowned. “What does my daughter have to do with your injury?”
“He got it fighting with Trey.” Before her mother could ask anything else, Beth gestured toward the living room, suddenly wearied. She needed to sit while she told it. If she could.
Her father and brother strolled in before she could tell her mother, and with her courage waning quickly, she wished they had stayed outside just a little longer. A lump of tears and anger and fear lodged itself firmly in her throat, and try as she might, she couldn’t seem to clear it. Her family watched her expectantly. Concern, confusion, and doubt ruled their expressions.
“Why did Nick and Trey fight?” her mother finally prodded. “Beth…?”
“Because….” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Trey….”
“Start from the beginning,” Nick suggested gently. “Maybe that will help.”
“Wednesday, Nick and his girlfriend and Trey and I all went out on a double date so I could get to know Michelle.” There, that wasn’t so hard. “We had dinner, went out dancing at the Club Bar. Darryl was there, and he and Trey got into a pretty heated game of pool…. And they got to talking about me, I guess.”
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