by Rachael Wade
“Kate, are you feeling all right? You look a little pale.”
“Yes, I’m fine, thanks. I’m just going to step out to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, certainly. When you get back, we can get down to business.”
“Sounds good.” I nodded and slipped away from the table, then headed to the restroom. I sipped on a glass of water on the way, thankful for the refreshing liquid as it cooled my throat. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, my vision blurred for a moment, effectively throwing off my equilibrium. Shit. Maybe I’m really dehydrated. Reaching for my phone, I was relieved to see no text messages or voicemails from Ryan yet. Thank God Eric said we could get down to business when I returned, because I was ready for the evening to be over. The guilt of lying to Ryan was starting to eat away at me, and I suddenly found myself backtracking and rethinking each thought that led me to make this decision. Oh well. Too late to do anything about it.
The relief I’d felt after drinking some water vanished, a mass attack of hot flashes hitting me full speed when I returned to the table.
“Ah, there she is,” Eric said, standing to pull out my seat. “Shall we talk about your novel, now, Kate?”
“Yes,” Mark said. “That is, if you’re feeling up to it. Eric mentioned you looked a little pale, how are you feeling?” He leaned over and helped scoot my chair in further, briefly resting his hand on the back of my neck. Goose bumps sprang up in his wake.
“That’d be great. I think I’m going to take off soon, I’m not feeling so hot...”
“Here, perhaps some water will help?” Eric slid a glass of ice water toward me, he and Mark watching patiently as I took a few sips.
“Thank you, much better.” I placed the glass down and crossed my legs. “So, Eric, Mark tells me you have a bit of a different perspective on how to market my work?”
“I do, I do.” Eric eyed his watch and glanced at Mark. “Actually, I have the contract and some notes about your manuscript in my briefcase. How about we head to the lobby and go over everything over a few drinks? I’m not having any dessert, are you?” He looked to me, then to Mark. We both shook our heads and followed Eric’s lead, standing to exit. A head rush welcomed me as I straightened out my knees and I reached for the table.
“Whoa, Kate. Are you all right, sweetheart?” Mark slipped his arm around my waist and Eric rushed to my other side, both of them slowly escorting me out of the ballroom.
“I hope I’m not coming down with anything,” I whispered, gripping my clutch tightly, feeling more and more disoriented by the second. Maybe I should call Ryan to pick me up. I’ll worry about his wrath when I feel better.
We reached the lobby and I glanced over my shoulder as Mark and Eric led me past it, still on each side of me, guiding me by the elbows.
“Oh, aren’t we stopping here in the lobby?” The hotel’s warm lighting bounced off the chandelier above me and I winced, sensitive to the sharp reflections. When I opened my eyes, I saw double. Holy hell, what’s happening to me? Panic started to take over my senses; my palms sweating, my knees trembling.
“Yes, we’ll come right back,” Eric said, leading me to the far end of the foyer. “I left my briefcase in my room, so we’ll make a quick pit stop.” We stepped into the elevator and I started to sway, gripping Mark’s shoulder as I faltered to the left. Holy shit, did I eat something...drink something...
“Easy there, Kate,” he said, sliding his cold hand up my dress, grabbing my ass. “We’ll make this quick.”
Oh fuck.
Another hot flash rolled over me as I groaned, and recognition hit. The familiar helplessness that accompanied being taken advantage of; visions of my early teen years unfolding around me, a swamp of memories, moist and suffocating. The dizziness was beginning, and in seconds, I’d have no control. “Ah, no...no I’m leaving,” I mumbled reaching for the elevator door, ready to bolt as soon as it opened. Eric’s hand snatched my elbow and lassoed me back, his grip firm.
“You’re not well, Kate, you should relax,” he leaned in and brushed his nose in my hair, his hot breath on my earlobe. I cringed at the smell of hard whiskey mixed with something sweet.
The elevator’s ding sound announced our arrival. The doors slid open, and Mark and Eric immediately pushed me into the empty hallway.
“Stop,” I pulled away from them, dizziness and hot flashes swallowing me up, sending me toppling over onto the wall. Ryan, oh God, Ryan. Shit, my phone... “Get off me, I have to...” my words began to slur and my vision worsened as I attempted to reach for my phone in my purse. Mark slipped his key into a hotel room door and Eric stuffed my clutch in his suit jacket.
“Don’t fight it honey,” Mark’s voice sounded like an echo now, each word multiplying and vibrating into a thousand syllables. They led me into the room and Eric locked the door behind him, taking me by the small of the back and leading me to the bed. What have I done?
“Now, we have this contract for you to sign here, but we’re not quite convinced you’re committed to this deal, Kate.” Mark loosened his tie and reached for the mini-bar, gesturing to Eric to hold me down on the edge of the bed.
“I said get off, get off, get off...” I wiggled from his grasp but he slid next to me, wrenching my arms behind my back.
“See, marketing your work is going to be very challenging,” Mark continued, returning with more whiskey. “And we need to know you’re going to cooperate, that you’re willing to do whatever is necessary to keep us happy.”
“So what can you do for us, Kate?” Eric leaned in and grazed my breast. I flinched, letting my head roll to the side of my shoulder, spitting fast in his face. I wanted to scream for help, wanted to cry out, but my voice was weak, my body sagging, growing lifeless. I struggled to keep my eyes open, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Eric let out a deep, filthy laugh. “You did say she was feisty, my friend. I like that.” He yanked on my wrists, wrenching my arms tighter behind my back. “And she does have a fantastic rack,” he reached for my breast again.
“Enough of the bullshit, she’s fading fast. Come on, unzip her dress.” Mark’s voice turned low and urgent. My eyelids began to droop and I felt him come up in front of me and open my legs, heard the sound of his belt buckle opening. I let my weight pull me backward, flopping onto the bed behind me, no longer able to hold myself upright. Eric scooted up next to me, his slick fingers brushing against my shoulders, pulling my bra straps down before moving to my dress zipper. Their husky voices began to fade, farther and farther, a soft thumping interrupting their distant chatter. Doorknobs turning. Footsteps thumping. Shouting. Rustling. Cracking. Breaking. Then I saw nothing at all. Only darkness.
***
Warmth crowded around my body from head to toe, my legs stretching outward to push it away. A heaviness on my chest instinctually made me try to buck the weight off, my stomach and arms thrashing upward and outward, my voice finding its way to my lips. “No! Help, help—”
“You’re safe, Kate,” a strained, familiar voice hovered over me, strong hands clasping my shoulders, soothing fingers rubbing my skin. “You’re at home. Safe.” My eyes opened and I found Ryan. I kicked the thick blanket off of me, instantly relieved when the warmth left my skin. I lay on the couch, Carter and unfamiliar voices near the front door. A woman appeared next to me, gently reaching for my hand.
“Kate, I’m Kelly, your nurse. I treated you earlier, but you were a bit groggy. It’s Saturday morning and you slept through the night. Are you feeling okay? May I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. Am I—was I—”
“You were not. Ryan and your friend here found you before the assault took place. You have good men looking out for you. You were given a full rape screening and urine test and you have not suffered any physical trauma. It seems your attackers administered a form of GHB, most likely through food or drink, and it should work its way out of your system within 24 to 48 hours. You can expect a lot of f
atigue over the next day or two, and possibly nausea.”
“I filed a report with the police,” Ryan spoke up, sitting next to me on the end of the couch. “They were arrested, and the decision to pursue any charges is entirely up to you.”
“Yes,” Kelly spoke up, her voice soft and soothing, like Ryan’s fingers. “Because of the nature of the drug, they can potentially face up to two years in prison, maybe more. There are many factors that will determine the outcome. Whatever you decide, it is understandable and your right. Thankfully, you have two eyewitnesses, both of whom have been interviewed. I’ve filed my health examination notes for record, and if you need anything at all, please just call me at this number.” She handed me a card. “I’m very sorry for what you’ve experienced. I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow. You’re in my thoughts.” Smiling warmly once more, she nodded at Ryan and made her way to the door, bidding farewell to the officers on her way out.
“Would you like to speak to the police later?” Ryan peered down at me, dark circles under his eyes, lids red and swollen. Oh, what this man must’ve gone through because of me.
“Yes, not right now.”
Ryan exchanged looks with Carter, who was still huddled with the police at the front door. His face was sunken in, too, pale and gaunt. A ghost.
“Ms. Parker,” one of the officers spoke up, “please just give us a call when you’re ready. We have everything else we need for now. I’m very sorry.”
“I will, thank you,” my voice cracked. Ryan handed me a cup of water. As soon as the police were gone, the tears started to flow.
“Ssshhh, baby. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Ryan scooped me into his arms and breathed in, his forehead to mine, eyes screwed tight.
“I’m going to run to the market, Kate,” Carter whispered over me, brushing back my hair. He looked at Ryan. “Call me if you need me, man.” Ryan nodded and wrapped me tighter in his arms. The doorknob turned and that’s the last thing I remember before dozing back off, trying to kick off the heavy, suffocating blanket as I drifted, but the blanket wasn’t really there.
***
Trudging through the following weeks in a zombie-like state, the hours spent at work were hazy, and the counseling sessions I attended all blurred together, each session overlapping with another, until I couldn’t make out when one began and the other ended. I retained the information I was given, talked everything out to the point of exhaustion, but that didn’t alter the fact that I had changed. There was no going back, despite the fact that Mark and Eric hadn’t actually gone through with the rape.
The “what-if” plagued me more. Terrified me. The shock that these two men had gone so far as to try to take my free will wouldn’t subside. The reality that I’d gone against my instinct, my better judgment, allowing it to happen, wasn’t going anywhere, either. In fact, it festered and bubbled up inside of me, rooting itself way deep down, determined to never let me forget how foolish I’d been.
It didn’t matter that those were common reactions for rape victims—to feel guilty, to feel responsible in some way. Because the one thing I’d always had going for me was instinct. I’d known it from the beginning, sensed something foul in Mark. And going to the gala meant I’d betrayed that instinct entirely, blindfolded and gagged it, and for what? To declare my independence? Stupidity.
No matter how many times my counselor confirmed it wasn’t my fault, I denied the opportunity to let myself off the hook. This time I’d gone too far to try to hold my own, to prove something to myself—and to Ryan. And now he and my friends were paying for it, too. Lost sleep, gray hair, and God knows what else. All because I worried them sick.
The atmosphere shifted between Ryan and me, him coming and going from work with only a few words and a sad smile, me sullen and edgy as we interacted each day. Channeling all of my anxious energy into writing, I’d found myself at a dead lull, unable to pull myself from the rut. Dean and Carter had made themselves scarce, and the silence around the apartment took on a life of its own, became safe and familiar. Welcome. Images of Ryan and Carter busting the hotel door down and knocking Eric and Mark out cold haunted me, even though I wasn’t awake to witness the scene. The thought of me lying there unconscious, what Ryan and Carter must’ve seen, the impact of their fists as they’d pummeled my attackers—all of it kept me stunned in silence, semi comatose.
When Ryan came home from work on Friday evening, he was just as quiet as he’d been over the past few weeks, but even more irritable. Shoving drawers shut in the kitchen and banging around the cabinets when he couldn’t find what he needed to make dinner, he slammed the fridge shut and just stood there, a slight tremor in his hands.
I rose to my feet from the counter bar stool and walked toward him, unsure if I should reach out and touch him. “Why are you so angry?” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “Look, I’m sorry I lied to you about going to the gala, but you’re acting like I asked to be mauled by those scumbags. It was supposed to be a business meeting and it turned to shit; that part was out of my control. You can’t honestly think I deliberately went with them to their room, Ryan. They dragged me there and almost—”
“I know what almost happened, for fuck’s sake! I was there, remember? I pried the assholes off of you!”
I took a step back, feeling his hot breath on my face.
“I know you didn’t intend to cheat on me. And what they did...that will never be your fault, do you understand me?”
“Then what’s the problem?” I softened my tone of voice, lowering my chin. “Why can’t you forgive me about the damn gala? I feel bad enough, Ry.”
“Because it’s not just the fucking gala, Kate. It’s everything, from day one. The apartment—it’s yours, not ours. Your dreams—they’re yours, not mine to share with you. And the money,” he let out a frantic laugh, turning to face the living room window, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “I thought we were making progress when you accepted the rent money, my gift to you on Christmas. But you didn’t really accept it. No, what did you do? You picked up double shifts, then worked your ass off to save more money, and for what?”
“To pay for my own classes and bills, what do you mean, ‘what?’” I stepped forward, feeling defensive. Where the hell is all of this coming from?
“Yeah, so you didn’t have to accept any more help from me. Even when you did let me help you, you never let me forget it, always reminding me it was temporary. That I could never take care of you. Do you have any idea how exhausting that is? Do you know how selfish it is?”
“Excuse me, selfish? Did I just hear that correctly? So, you’re angry I want to be financially stable? You’re pissed I want to hold on to my independence? Are you kidding me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to maintain your independence! Shit, that’s one of the things that drew me to you in the first place—your vitality, ambition, your strong will. But you use your independence as a shield, damn it. It’s just a disguise. Gives you another reason to keep everyone out. How can I compete with that?” He turned and threw a pan into the sink, the clatter making me wince. “How can I compete when there’s no room for me, when you won’t let me in, won’t let me share your life with you?”
“Ryan,” my shoulders slumped and I exhaled a slow, single breath. “That’s not...this isn’t...”
He faced me and stepped closer.
“I understand you wanted to continue things with Mark because you wanted to forge your own career path, wanted to handle it yourself. I get it. But at what expense? I almost fucking killed them when I walked in that room, Kate. Did Carter tell you? He had to pry me off of them. I just kept pounding their faces while you were there on the bed, half naked and passed out! Do you have any idea?” He exhaled, hands shaking. “No matter what, you have to have the upper hand. All this power-struggle banter between us? It’s not just a joke to you, I realize that now. It’s real. And I can’t do that. I won’t give myself to someone who won’t meet me half way.”
“Ryan, I realize that now. It kills me that you had to witness that—kills me! I’m sorry...I’ve been trying like hell to compromise with you, and I’m aware of how I can be...”
“You don’t want to compromise, Kate.” He rolled back on his heels, rested against the counter. “Look how painful it is for you to even try. You want to keep your distance and let me love you when it’s convenient for you. I know I’ve dealt a shitty hand in the relationship department before you. But being on the receiving end of a relationship where the woman you love won’t let you love her back...it’s a dead end.” He lifted his keys and wallet from the counter. “And I’ve had enough of dead ends.”
His soft shirt sleeve brushed my shoulder as he headed for the exit, the sound of the door closing behind him triggering an old, familiar ache, one that inspired my need to run.
Run.
18. EXPELLED
“You have to go to him. Just call in sick from work today and go talk things out.” Crystal took a healthy bite of her burrito, shaking her head adamantly. “Talk some sense into him. He’s had a few days to calm down.” She sat on my couch while I paced back and forth in the living room. I had to work that afternoon, but I was downright exhausted, unable to sleep since Ryan left. He’d come and taken his things when I’d been out working, left the apartment key in an envelope underneath the door mat. Now it had been four days since he walked out.
I refused to believe he was gone for good; it was all so ridiculous. He loved me, I knew this. And I loved him. Being separated wasn’t an option. Period. I knew I messed up, could understand and respect the fact that he’d felt inadequate in the relationship, that I’d kept him at arm’s length just as I had with so many relationships and friendships before him, but the fact that he moved his things out was so extreme. Surreal. I’d reason with him. He’d come back.
“He’s just angry, right? He’s just angry,” I kept pacing, biting my lip. The smell of Crystal’s lunch made me want to hurl. Dean arrived with a bagged lunch of his own, closing the front door behind him.
