Here we go again, I think to myself, another evening with the guys. Should be fun, right? It’s what every guy wants: his space and to just hang with his ‘bro’s’. Nope, I’d rather spend it curled on the couch with Tori, watching a movie.
Saturday we head to the public area of the lake to meet up with everyone. Thankfully, it’s away from our regular spot; don’t want it tarnished by all the crap going on tonight.
The public area is a small part of the beach with a circular pit for a bonfire. Some of the guys arrive early to start it up, but Maverick and me—hell no. We’re only going to hang out with the guys because it’s our last hoorah and that’s it. I don’t even plan on being here late tonight, to be honest.
Maverick and I shoot the shit, hob-knobbing with the guys for a couple of hours. Some are sloshed out of their minds. I see guys and girls I’ve never seen before. So much for being a team thing. I’m so ready to get out of here. I glance at Maverick and see the same look reflected on his face. Thank the Lord above, he’s ready to go, too. We make our goodbyes, catch a little crap and get called a few names that would probably make Charlie blush. Not Tori, though. No, my Tori would have a response for his crass mouth and that causes me to smile and chuckle.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Just thinking about what Josh just called us. You know damn well if the girls were with us, Charlie would blush and Tori would have a comeback ready for his sorry mouth.”
Maverick laughs, throwing his head back, “You’re right, and I can picture it, too.”
“I miss her so much, and it’s only been a couple of days.” We walk to Maverick’s car among the scattered vehicles.
“I understand that,” Maverick agrees. “When I was a part from Charlie I felt the same way. I get it. I…”
“Shhh,” I cut him off. “Did you hear that?”
Maverick and I stop walking and listen. We hear faint noises that sound like muffled screams. “I think it’s this way,” I say.
Maverick follows and we come to a faded burgundy truck. The windows are fogged up and it’s rocking a little.
“Maybe we should give them their privacy,” Maverick says and turns to walk away.
Reaching out my hand, I stop him. “No! Something’s wrong. I feel it in my gut.” My heart begins to beat fast and instinct tells me not to leave. All of a sudden, I see a hand slap the window and nails drag its way down, followed by another, much bigger hand yanking it away. Then everything snaps into focus. The older truck…I see it in my mind from a year ago…I remember! My vision floods red and all I see is Tori. I rush over to the truck and yank the door open. Despite all logic, I expect to see Tori in the truck. An unfamiliar guy is laid over her and her shirt is pulled up. His hands are roaming in places they shouldn’t be. The tear-streaked face I see is Tori. I hear a whimper as I pull the girl out as gently as I can. Maverick grabs the girl and as they move away, I faintly register him asking if she’s okay.
The guy looks at me with a sick, twisted smile on his face. “We were just having a little fun. She wants me, and she likes it rough.” For the first time in my life, I’m looking at someone and cannot see one trace of good in him. This guy is pure evil, and he needs to be stopped!
Dumbstruck, and still seeing red, I suddenly have the urge to pound him to within an inch of his life. Faster than I can register what I’m doing, I rush to his side of the truck, throw open the door and yank his ass out. He’s laughing like it’s a joke, not taking me seriously, and he just succeeds in getting me madder than a hornet’s nest. He smirks at me—fucking smirks! Pulling my arm back, I throw it forward with every ounce of strength I possess. He staggers from the punch, while pain radiates down my arm but I don’t give a shit, and I punch him again. He finally falls to the ground and crouching over him, I continue beating him until, finally, I’m yanked away. I sit on the ground, staring. The sack of shit just lies on the ground, not moving as a paramedic leans over him. After a few minutes, I feel a hand resting on my shoulder, and I faintly hear someone trying to get my attention. Finally, I get a thump to the back of the head, snapping me back to the present.
“What the hell?” I whip my head around to see Maverick standing over me.
“Dude, you were supposed to leave me a punch, but no, you had to take care of it all on your own.”
“How is she?”
“Oh you mean Ashley?”
“Ashley?” I ask surprised.
“That’s who was in the car. It was Ashley.”
“How is she?” I ask, my voice unsteady.
“She’s been smacked around. She has a black eye and I don’t know…” He trails off.
I know where he’s going, and it’s not something I want to think about.
I release the breath I’m holding and finally feel the pain in my hand. It hurts like a son of a bitch.
“Come on slugger, let’s get you looked at.”
I walk over to the paramedic and a police officer makes his way over introducing himself. “After your hand is looked at, I’m going to need you to come into the station.”
I nod my head, but the paramedic interjects, “Not before he goes to the hospital to get his hand treated.” Turns out, I broke my hand. It was worth it.
Maverick tells the paramedic he’ll drive me, and we head back to his car. The moment we get in he asks, “What do we do from here?”
“What do you mean? The guy has been caught, which is what we wanted, right?”
He quickly glances over, “No, about letting Tori know what’s going on; that her rapist has been caught.”
“Actually bro, first we have to make sure it’s the same guy. I think it is, and you think it is, but… and I really hope I’m right because I just beat the tar out of him which he deserved anyway….Seeing the truck brought back the memory of seeing Tori in it, and it was familiar. I know it has to be him, but I’m not calling anyone until we know for sure. Honestly, I think she needs to hear it from the police.”
“You’re right,” Maverick says. “I still can’t believe you didn’t save me a punch. What kind of friend are you?” he says laughing. “You gave it to him good to. Even though you hurt yourself in the process.”
My mind falls back to Tori and all I can think about is this guy is caught and she doesn’t have to fear her attacker is going to hurt her or anyone else again. I’m so relieved at the thought.
We get to the waiting room and Maverick asks, “Let me see your hand.”
I unwrap the gauze and ice, wincing, and take a look. It’s a purple plump mass and looks completely disfigured.
“Nasty. Maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t punch him. I’ve already got a bum knee,” Maverick jokes.
“Asshole.” I mutter.
After sitting for what seems like hours, I’m finally called in, and they let Maverick join me because he’s a witness. Not long after, a detective in plain clothes comes in with a uniformed officer. “Hi, I’m Detective Harrison, and you are?”
We give him our names and recall the events of the night. I go first since I did the punching.
“I didn’t know what was going on. We heard a muffled scream and a hand hit the window. The nails started sliding down the glass as if in duress. I acted on instinct and opened the door. I could tell she was upset and yanked his ass out and punched him. He laughed at first and though it was funny. Well, it wasn’t funny.”
Detective Harrison tries to hide his smirk, but I catch it before he’s able to regain his composure. I’m generally pretty observant—situations involving Tori notwithstanding—and I pick up on some clues from the detective that put me at ease. One, his sudden smirk tells me it really doesn’t bother him that I punched the crap out of the guy, and two, Harrison has to know the guy is guilty, otherwise he would be pissed I knocked him out.
Sensing Harrison is on my side, I take the chance a share, “My girlfriend was attacked a little over a year ago. When I saw the fogged windows, and heard the muffled cry, I just knew it was him.
I couldn’t allow him to hurt anyone like he hurt Tori.” Needing to know if I stopped the attack in time, I ask. “Did he…” I can’t finish the sentence, but the detective knows what I’m asking.
“Normally, I wouldn’t tell you this, and I’m really not supposed to, but, for your peace of mind….No, he didn’t; you stopped him in time.”
Waves of relief crash through me with the knowledge he didn’t get the chance to do this to someone else.
Maverick goes through his recollection of the evening step by step, and Detective Harrison thanks us for our time and says he’ll be in touch. Meanwhile, my hand hurts like hell and I’m informed it needs a cast.
“Great.”
Maverick, always looking on the bright side, says jokingly, “Just think, you’ll be the talk of the entire school.”
“Just what I always wanted,” I say sarcastically.
He and I spend another two hours at the hospital before I’m allowed to leave. We still have to stop for a couple of prescriptions, but I’m finally free to go.
I wonder how Ashley’s doing, but we don’t run it to her on the way out. And, despite her mean-streak, I’m glad she had a better ending than Tori. Although I’m sure the incident will affect her for a while, she’s lucky because it could have been much, much worse.
Chapter 41
I come awake to the sound of the phone ringing and glance at the clock. Holy hell it’s early. Seven o’clock on a Sunday morning—really? That’s just insane! I turn over in the bed trying to get comfortable again to go back to sleep, but no such luck. I hear feet stomping up the stairs and someone nearing my room. I groan, wanting to go back to sleep. It was a late night of watching movies with ridiculously hot men, and eating tons of junk food. Even my mom got in on the action. I turn my head when I hear someone enter my room and see her walk in. She has a strange look on her face and she’s nervous, as if something’s wrong.
“What is it? What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”
She sits down on the bed causing me to sit up. She’s ringing her hands fidgeting so much I can tell something is weighing heavily on her mind. “That was Detective Harrison,” she starts. “They think they caught your rapist.”
I’m struck dumb. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react, let alone think. Conflicting emotions swirl around in my head: I’m elated he’s in custody, but I’m scared of what that means for me.
“Okay, what does this mean?”
“It means they need you to go in for a line-up.”
Fear immediately engulfs my entire body and I begin to shake. My mom pulls me to her and wraps her arms around me tightly, trying to sooth me and make it better, but this isn’t a scrape on the knee, or a broken heart that she can kiss and make better. Lord knows I wish it were. No, this is more. This is the fear of him seeing me, fear of the unknown. But, the fear will never go away if I don’t do something to end it. Cautiously, I pull away from her embrace and work to get a hold of myself.
“I’ll take a quick shower and get dressed, then we’ll go,” trying to contain the quiver in my voice, I get up. Forcing bravery I don’t feel, I gather my things and walk across the hall to the bathroom—my mom watching silently as I go. I walk in and undress letting the water warm before stepping inside. When I do step in, the warm spray jolts me awake and everything crashes down on me at once. Tears pour down, and I can’t stop them. My legs turn to jelly, unable to hold my body up any longer, and I crumble as the warm water cascades over me. As several thoughts run through my mind, I lean my head back and just let the water fall, washing all my tears down the drain. Symbolically, the tears wash away all the ugly, damaged feelings I allowed him to hold over me. Negative words tumble through my head and I send them down the drain with my tears. Nothingness. Victim. Powerless. Scared. Used. And many, many more. I let it all go and watch them flow down the drain. I thought I was doing so much better, and in a way I was, but I hadn’t let go. I need to let it all go, and refuse to give someone the power to make me feel like I’m nothing ever again. I am so much more. I say it in my head, again and again, until I finally begin to believe it, then I say it once more, out loud:
“My name is Tori. I am no one’s victim. And by God, I am a survivor! I’ve been to hell and back and I. will. heal. I may never forget; but I will never again think about you like I have. I will never give you the power I’ve been giving you for the last year, and I will never let you hurt anyone else again.”
I cry the last tear I will ever shed because of him. Knowing this gives me back the power I’ve been missing for so very long. Energy begins to course through my body, and I stand up and bathe, finally more whole than I have been in quite some time. When I get out, with the towel wrapped around me, I just stand in front of the mirror. I don’t know how to explain it, but I look different, better even. Realization dawns: I finally believe the words. I finally believe I’m not nothing, or used, or a victim; I’m me and I’m still whole. I have more color and my eyes—my eyes are different. The overwhelming sadness is gone, so is the hollowness. They reflect the surge of life that is seeping back into me, allowing me to heal and get past this. Something horrific happened to me, something I will never completely get over, and it took me a long time to see it, but I won’t let him rule or define me. I smile at myself and then open the door, going to my room to get ready with my head held high.
When I’m ready, I walk downstairs to the kitchen where Charlie and my mom are waiting. Charlie’s dressed and looks like she’s going somewhere. That’s right, her date with Maverick, I forgot.
“What are you and Maverick going to do today?”
She looks at me as if I’m crazy. “I’m not. I’m going with you.”
“What? No, you haven’t spent any of this weekend with him. It’s okay, and mom’s with me.”
Shaking her head, she informs, “Sorry T, but you’re stuck with me. I sent a text to Maverick letting him know already. You’re not doing this by yourself; no damn way!”
My smile is huge, and I’m so happy I have this fantastic support system, and blessed; yes, I feel blessed.
On the way to the police station I expect to feel nauseous, ready to have my mom pull over so I can up-chuck, but I don’t. I’m a little restless and nervous, but holding myself together surprisingly well. Mom assures me Detective Harrison said there’s no way he can see me through the mirror. Even though I know this, hearing her say it is a relief.
When we reach the station and we’re parked, I find my feet actually moving without having to force them. They carry me in the right direction, following closely behind my mom. I’m still nervous as shit, but I’m ready to do this, nonetheless. My mom speaks to the officer in the front, who directs us to a room. On our way, we pass by another room and I notice the girl inside looks just like Ashley. It can’t be Ashley, why would she be here? This girl doesn’t look put together like the Ashley I go to school with. No, this one has a black eye and unruly hair and she looks…sad. We reach the line up room and Detective Harrison comes in right after us.
“Hey, Tori. Are you ready to do this?”
No, but yes. I nod to him. Before I can stop myself I blurt, “How did you catch him?”
Detective Harrison looks at me and tilts his head in confusion. “You don’t know?”
“No, I really don’t know.”
He then asks, “Do you know a Will Montgomery?”
My stomach falls and fear overwhelms me. Fear for Will, not for me. I’m scared to know more, but I need to know. “Yes.”
“Well, Will and his friend Maverick happened to be at the right place at the right time. They heard some muffled screams and Will took it upon himself to save the girl—just in time, too. He not only saved the girl but Will punched the guy until he lost consciousness, breaking his hand in the process.”
I look at Charlie and ask, “Did you know about this?”
The shocked look on her face says it all as she shakes her head no. She had no clue.
Detective Ha
rrison continues, “His friend Maverick called the police while Will was yanking the girl out and beating the guy.” He smirks and lightly chuckles, “Your boyfriend was holding onto some major rage to break his hand first punch.”
I’m startled by the term boyfriend, and the Detective notices. “He is your boyfriend right? He introduced himself as your boyfriend.”
I’m happy to know that he still thinks of me as his girlfriend. Nodding, I say, “He is. He’s not in trouble is he? For punching him?”
“No, he saved a girl last night and it could’ve ended a lot worse.”
“What’s going to happen now?” I ask.
He sighs in frustration, “We don’t have physical evidence from your rape, but it will help if you identify him. Then, with the girl’s testimony from last night, and since he was caught in the act with witnesses, we should be able to get him. It’s not a perfect system, but my hope is we can find other girls to come forward which will definitely help our case. I don’t think you were his first victim, Tori. Are you ready to do this?”
“I am, but I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor.” I say proudly, believing it with everything I am.
“I apologize and stand corrected,” the detective dips his head in acknowledgement.
The room we walk into is exactly how I’ve seen it on television, eerily so. The television shows, actually, got this part right. My mom and Charlie stand next to me, as well as Detective Harrison and a uniformed officer. The lights get brighter in the other room and dim slightly in ours. It takes me two seconds to make the identification. Even though I know he can’t see my face, I still feel the terror trying to creep in. I look from the first numbered guy to the fifth one as they each step forward. When number four comes forward, I step back a bit. He’s beat up, but the grin–the grin gives him away completely. His mouth is slightly upturned in a grin full of secrets that could even be alluring on his handsome face, were it not so sinister. But the handsomeness turns ugly because of the darkness that surrounds him. There’s no remorse when I look at him, only enjoyment, like this is a game. As I study him through the mirror, I’m convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he will do it again in a heartbeat. He’s a serial rapist. He gets pleasure from hurting women, and he’ll continue to do it unless he’s stopped.
Heartstrings Page 16
