Undressed At Sea: A Psychological Thriller (Drew Stirling Book 2)

by Jayden Hunter

  “Yeah, shitty subject.”

  “But we’re here now.”

  “Yes,” he said. “We’re here now. Hell, I guess everyone had shitty parents. They’re all human. I suppose everyone has bad memories, and in their own context, everyone has a unique hell to recall. Crap, we are going to get depressed. Here’s to shitty childhoods.”

  He raised his glass and toasted.

  Drew raised hers.

  They tapped glasses and then sipped.

  He refilled Drew’s glass and smiled at her.

  “Spend the night with me tonight,” he said.

  He lifted his glass again and his smile widened, like Joel Osteen on a Sunday morning, asking his mega-congregation to open their wallets for God.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The power of the harasser, the abuser, the rapist depends above all on the silence of women.

  ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

  The Federal Bureau of Investigation estimates show that the clearance rate for forcible rape is around forty percent. The actual number of sexual assaults is unknown. Off the top of my head, I’d guess that a rapist has about a seventy-five to eighty percent chance of never seeing prison. And that’s probably a low estimate.

  ~ Special Agent Rick Stevenson

  ...................

  Chip was nervous.

  Randy Hawkins had asked him to think about and be ready to talk about, his experiences with women while he was in college.

  When Chip started college, he had reached adulthood. He was learning to cope with the death of his father. It was a major transition in his life, and he had no family. He was like Robinson Crusoe in a sea of people, all of them strangers. Especially the women.

  “I didn’t know how to act around women,” Chip began. “They’d allure me and frighten me at the same time. I moved into the dorms on campus and rented out my Huntington Beach house. So I had more money than the average freshman, but I still couldn’t spend money without thinking about it. I wanted to try dating. Going on a real date scared me. At the same time, I had urges, normal sexual feelings. Many of the freshmen women were still just kids, right out of high school. Yet they were legally adults and most of them were as horny as the guys.”

  “Yes, it’s a weird time in people’s lives,” Hawkins confirmed. “Finally out of their parents’ home and experimenting with alcohol, drugs, sex, and independence. It’s a tough time. If you can, would you tell me about how you felt about women at that time? When you were first learning to become an adult?”

  “I’m going to tell you about my first time. She was an adult, and I won’t tell you her name.”

  “Okay,” Hawkins said.

  ...................

  Chip had a lab partner, and her name was Rachel. She was in another class with him, and after a few weeks into the semester they started talking about things other than their classes.

  “Where are you from?” Rachel asked.

  “Huntington Beach,” he answered. What does this have to do with our lab?

  “I’m from Mobile, Alabama.”

  “Never been,” Chip said. “Okay, on problem seven, you see where—”

  She interrupted him. “You want to study together this weekend?”

  “Yeah, sure. Okay. I could do that.”

  On the following Saturday, they had dinner together and studied afterward. They met the next weekend, too. Chip sometimes walked her to class. One day Rachel asked him if she could ask a personal question.

  “I guess,” Chip said. He didn’t like to talk about his personal life with people. But she was apparently becoming a friend, so he decided he was going to try-try-try to be more social.

  “How come you’ve never tried anything with me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—we’ve been alone in your dorm. We’ve been hanging out. You... You don’t seem to have a girlfriend. I thought all college guys were supposed to be animals? At least that’s what my parents lectured me about. Over and over. Don’t let guys take advantage of you, Rachel, they’d told me. It was as if they thought every guy in California was a sex crazed animal or a rapist. I was nervous when I first got here. Now I’m thinking maybe guys don’t find me pretty.”

  “You’re pretty. I thought you’d be offended if I overstepped my bounds. We’re lab partners. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  “Well, I’m not. I don’t want to be virgin the rest of my life.”

  Chip blushed. She was pretty. He’d fantasized about having sex with her every time she’d left his room. But he never thought he’d have the courage to ask a normal woman to have sex.

  “How about if next Saturday we go out and have a couple beers?” Chip asked her. He was sweating, and his heart was pounding.

  “Okay, that sounds fun.”

  The following Saturday they meet after Chip had gone to a small Chinese-owned liquor store that had a reputation for selling beer without asking for ID.

  With beer and snacks packed, Chip took Rachel to a spot with a view of the ocean. He was overdressed and wore too much cologne. He had even gotten a haircut that afternoon.

  “You look nice,” Rachel said.

  “Thank you.”

  She looked him in the eyes and sat on a blanket she’d spread out. He grinned, then looked down to his feet.

  “Sit down,” she said.

  “You look good, too,” he said while he sat down on the blanket across from her.

  They drank two beers each and ate.

  “Do you want to go to dinner later?” Chip asked her as the sun began to hit the horizon.

  “No,” she said. “This has been enough food. I’m okay. But if you want to?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  They sat in an awkward silence until eventually Rachel spoke up. “You want to go to my dorm? My roommate is gone for the weekend.”

  “Sure.”

  “I bought protection already,” she said.

  She sounded nervous to Chip, which made him feel a little better. He helped her fold the blanket and then she took his hand as they walked to his car.

  They entered her dorm without much talk. He trembled slightly, and he could feel sweat dripping under his shirt.

  They sat on Rachel’s bed. Chip was not sure what to do next, so he waited.

  Rachel brought her face close to his, so he kissed her. That much he understood. They kissed for a long time.

  “Do you want to take off your clothes?” Rachel asked him.

  Chip said yes but he wasn’t confident about it. She took off her shirt and undid her bra. Chip reached out and grabbed one of her breasts. She flinched

  “It’s sensitive,” she said.

  He kissed her nipple. “Sorry,” he said.

  They continued kissing, and Rachel took off his shirt. Once he was shirtless, she took off her pants, and he followed suit.

  Chip realized he wasn’t erect. He flushed red when he looked down and saw how little his penis looked. It was embarrassing. He looked like he was in the middle of a cold shower. He tried not to think about it. He concentrated on touching her breasts and kissing her.

  “We need to put the condom on you,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said.

  She got up and walked to the dresser. She still had her panties on. Chip watched her as she slid them off. She stood at her dresser with her back turned towards him. He admired her ass. She was even more good-looking naked. He still wasn’t erect. He tried to will himself to hardness. He thought of fucking her. He thought about her pussy. He talked to himself in his mind.

  I’m going to fuck her. I’m going to fuck her. I’m going to fuck her.

  She turned towards him. She had a full dark-haired bush and Chip thought for a second that she was just a naive country girl from Alabama. He thought that maybe he didn’t want to be the one to take her virginity. He lost track of himself; his own thoughts were silenced. He heard his father talking in his mind while she tried to slide the condom on.<
br />
  You fucking pussy, Chip. Why are you letting his white trash whore put a condom on you? She said she was a virgin, so fuck her.

  ...................

  After Chip had repeated those words out loud to Randy Hawkins, he stopped talking. He felt like he was a child again and his father was in the room. He remained silent for a minute and then Hawkins spoke.

  “Chip. Do you think you were disassociating while telling me about your past?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You realize your voice changed?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. I guess I sounded like my father. Didn’t I?’

  “I’m not sure because I’ve never spoken to him. But let’s suppose you did. Did you think you were hearing your father’s voice in your head that day? In her dorm?”

  “Maybe. I guess. It’s hard to say. I know that what happened next was not really me. I mean — it was me. I did it. But it wasn’t me.” He pointed to his chest.

  “What happened next?” Hawkins prompted him to continue.

  ...................

  Chip was sitting on her bed, and she was trying to put the condom on him. But he wasn’t erect. It was impossible.

  “Here,” she said. “Maybe if you do it?” She handed him the condom. She stood there.

  Chip held it in his hand. He tried sliding it on, but trying only made it worse. He was completely ashamed.

  “We don’t have to do this if you can’t—”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. Chip backhanded her so hard she landed on the floor, stunned, and semi-unconscious.

  Bitch. Fuck her now.

  Chip picked her up and put her on the bed. She was face down with her ass in the air and her legs over the edge. She was breathing sharply, but she hadn’t spoken a word. Chip was hard. He had a hungry throbbing monster between his legs and it wanted to be fed. He dropped the condom onto the floor. “Condoms are for hookers.” He rammed himself into her, but she wasn’t wet, so he couldn’t penetrate her. He rubbed spit onto himself and forced it in. He thrust himself into her, and after a pump or two, he could feel her natural lubrication. “You want me so bad; I can tell.” He was mad with lust.

  Fuck her hard, boy. Quit being such a pussy. Slap her ass. Show her how a real man fucks. Make that bitch moan. Make me proud, kid. Fuck like I would.

  It was over in less than half a minute. Chip climaxed. He dressed. He could hear that she was sobbing. She wasn’t moving or trying to speak. She didn’t get up when he opened the door.

  “See you later,” he said. “I had a great time.”

  ...................

  Chip sat silently in Randy Hawkins’ office. He didn’t look at his therapist. He knew it was a shameful story. But he was not ashamed. This was therapy, after all. Not a place for feeling guilty and condemned. A place to heal. At least that’s what he’d been told.

  “What happened to the girl?”

  “I don’t know. I never saw her again. She didn’t come to class. I think she dropped out. I forgot about her.”

  “What would you say to her if you could? If she was here right now?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “It’s not a test, Chip. I’m not asking you to say what you think I want to hear. I want to know if you feel anything today about what happened then? Something you might want to talk about now? To imagine her sitting here, if you could speak to her, that sometimes helps prompt some feelings. We could also have you write her a letter. Not for anyone to read except yourself. You could share it with me, too, if you want.”

  “I’m not sure,” Chip said. “I’m trying to think. I feel bad. I mean, I wish it had been a better experience for both of us. I’m sure she wished her first time wasn’t so rough.”

  “That’s all you think, Chip? That is was too rough?”

  “Well, yeah, I mean, I was a little rough. I shouldn’t have hit her that hard. Well, unless she wanted me to, but I didn’t ask her first. We didn’t have a safe word or anything. This was years ago. Most people didn’t even know about that kind of stuff. I know that it was wrong that I didn’t stay and finish her off, too. I was selfish; I should have made sure she came.”

  “Chip. I want you to think some more about this. Do you think she might have felt differently about it? She might have felt like you forced her?”

  Chip’s face turned bright red.

  “It wasn’t rape. Fuck. She wanted me there. I was there because she invited me there. To have sex. I feel bad about hitting her. I should have asked first, to see if she liked it rough. And I realize I was rude. I was only a kid. I wasn’t experienced with women that weren’t whores. My dad fucked me up there. But I didn’t force her to have sex. I wouldn’t do that. We were both there because she wanted it, too. She’s the one that invited me to her room.”

  “Okay, Chip,” Hawkins said. “I’m not here to condemn you. I want to talk about this more. I’d like you to consider it more from her perspective. You are familiar with how empathy works. We’ve talked about his before. Right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So put yourself in her shoes. She invited you to her room to have sex. That is true. But she made it clear she wanted you to wear a condom. And she certainly didn’t want to be struck. You said that she was crying. Why do you think that is?”

  “I guess she felt I was too rough. And I didn’t, you know, I didn’t care about her needs. I should have made sure she had a good time, too. I was inexperienced. Okay, I feel bad. I do. I’m sorry I was rough with her. I’d apologize for that if she was here. I’d say that I’m sorry I was too rough. And I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure she enjoyed it, too. And I’d tell her I’m sorry that I didn’t use the condom like she wanted. Is that good?”

  “It’s not about me judging you. It’s about you understanding yourself. I think we’ve done enough for today. For the next session, Chip, I’d like you to think more about how you might practice empathy. Specifically in your life today. How you might put yourself in the shoes of other people and think about how they feel. Does that sound okay to you?”

  Chip told Hawkins he understood. He promised to try understanding other people’s perspectives this week.

  “I’ll reflect on it,” he said. “Especially when I’m out on the water by myself, gathering my thoughts, and thinking.”

  Hawkins opened the door for him.

  “See you next week,” Chip said. He was smiling when he left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A killer with the manners of a rabbit — this is the most dangerous kind.

  ~ Frank Herbert

  Professor Fisher is a brilliant researcher, a loving husband, and a good friend. An occasional error in judgment shouldn’t be seen in the worst possible light and throwing around terms like “pattern of conduct” is irresponsible and vindictive.

  ~ Professor Ryan Mills, Ph.D

  ...................

  Ryan Mills was feeling victorious and happy that Drew was on his boat. She listened to him, drank with him, and made him feel like a confident man. He appreciated that she wasn’t too shy to smoke a little weed, lighten up, and talk. He felt a connection to her, and he was trying to figure out how to convince her to spend the night with him.

  If she’d agree to spend the night, he was sure he could wear down her defenses. Having sex with Drew Stirling would be like landing a two hundred and fifty-pound bluefin tuna and having it mounted in his office.

  “A refill?” he asked her. He didn’t wait for a response. It wasn’t a question. But he wanted to appear polite.

  “You’re trying to get me drunk. Aren’t you?”

  “You’re doing a good enough job of that yourself.” He raised his glass to her. A toast. God, I want to fuck you.

  “Tell me a fish story,” Drew said.

  Ryan thought for a minute. Silently he tried to remember his best fish story.

  “Okay,” he finally said.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “I was out a f
ew months back. I can’t recall the exact weekend. But I remember being nervous. I wanted to have a memorable weekend and catch something big. Something special. I felt like I deserved it. I don’t remember exactly why. Like I said, I can’t even recall the exact weekend it was.

  “I was out here, and I hooked up the biggest fish I’d ever caught. She was a beauty. Every inch of her was perfect. Sometimes, I think — I feel sorry. Killing something that beautiful. But, it’s part of life. Corny, I know. The circle of life and other bullshit people tell themselves. I don’t believe in that shit. But some creatures are predators and some creatures are prey. It’s the undeniable nature of this world.

  “In any case, I had an amazing time reeling this fish in. She was, like I said, beautiful. But that’s not the only thing. I think people sometimes really need to take care of their inner drives. The things that compel us. I was going mad, before — before that weekend. I wanted a perfect fish. And a perfect weekend. I came close. Once you’ve had the best you’ve ever had something strange happens. You want more all of a sudden. Something better. Something more beautiful, more precious. Strange that a god made men this way. To always want more. Enough is never enough.”

  Drew looked at him, not a frown, not a smile. Something in-between.

  “Don’t you agree?” he asked.

  Drew sipped from her glass.

  He gazed at her.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “My parents have everything. I don’t think they’re especially happy, so I get what you are saying. You get things, stuff. Houses, cars, clothes, and it’s not enough. I found that I could be happy working on my life. It’s not perfect, but I’m happy. I’m not seeking the next big thing or anything crazy. I just want to get my degree and do some good work in the world. I guess I want to find love, too. True love and friendship with someone I can trust, love, and be loved by. But that’s not a selfish thing. I don’t think.”

  Ryan looked at her. His eyes traveled over her like a general surveying a valley and considering where to send his troops next.

  “But you are so perfect. So it’s not fair for you to say. You have what so many want and can never have.”