“Did you like the drink I got for you?”
I wasn’t sure what he was asking or why, but I was losing all muscular control and my body began to slump on the bench. “Feel…” I could hear my words becoming slurred, almost like my tongue was too thick for my mouth.
“Come on, sweetheart. You’ll be all right.” Ed heaved me up by my arms, supporting me. I could no longer move my legs, so he half-dragged, half-carried me into the parking lot. I wanted to ask where he was taking me, but my mouth would no longer cooperate. Maybe he realized he needed to get me to the hospital.
My entire body failed to follow my commands, while my brain was no longer connecting thoughts like it should. But one last semi-clear thought came through. If I wasn’t imagining things, something fucking sinister was happening here. How had I not seen this coming?
Then my consciousness began to fade in and out. When I next opened my eyes, I saw that we were getting closer to a white car at the end of the parking lot. I tried to speak but only a weak hiss came out of my mouth, and I doubted he could even hear it. I could only hope he was going to get me medical attention—but he wasn’t talking.
And my instincts weren’t feeling impaired.
Even though my eyes were closed, I could tell that he pulled me up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. My head bobbed against his back and then it started throbbing—but it also jarred me into a more alert state.
When he stopped walking, I heard the sound of a car door opening. Then he eased me off his shoulder into the front passenger seat. I was able to see the street beside the parking lot and I watched as a few cars sped by. Somehow, the noise of the tires whirring on the asphalt seemed amplified. My cheeks felt flushed and my head was full of an overwhelming grogginess as Ed maneuvered me into the seat.
My head fell against the back of the chair as he pushed on my hips, sliding me all the way into the seat. As he started lifting my legs into the car, I took as deep a breath of air as I could, realizing my mouth was as dry as the desert. “Where…going?”
Ed, crouched on the pavement outside the car, was still working my right leg in. When he looked up at me, he smiled. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’ve made my decision.”
I couldn’t understand what he meant.
“About your punishment, Samantha T. Paulson. Your license.” I blinked, still having a hard time keeping up. As limp as my body was, so was my brain. “And I’ve decided not to do anything.” He moved his face closer to my thick one, the one that was now numb and unable to move, to show emotion, to speak. “But I demand payment.”
Bribery? Now?
Goddamn—I felt drunk, but this was more than that. I tried asking him a question, but I couldn’t focus my eyes, much less keep them open. Ed’s face was becoming a huge blur, but I knew he was pressing his nose into mine.
“I get it, Samantha. You’re too good for the likes of me—but it took me a long time to understand that. At first, I just thought you needed to get over your precious Adam. But after that, you still blew me off. Don’t think I didn’t see all the scumbags you fucked over the past few years.” I felt him pull the seatbelt over my lap, heard the snap of the buckle, but my eyelids were too heavy to open. “Little slut.” Then I could feel his hand caressing my cheek in an almost loving way, but that somehow felt more sinister than the vile words exiting his mouth. “I’m a good guy, Samantha, a nice guy—and you never wanted shit from me until I could do something for you. You know how that made me feel? We could have been so good together, but you took one trashy guy home after another. Exactly how many dicks has your cunt swallowed? Huh?”
Jesus Christ. Ed was fucking psychotic and I’d had no idea. Was I going to die now?
I tried again to move, but my muscles were dead and my mouth couldn’t move. It was like I’d had an extreme shot of Novocain that had numbed my entire head.
My entire body.
“That’s okay, sweet Samantha. I get the last laugh. You are going to be mine for just one night—and then I’ll call us even.
Ed kept talking but I couldn’t concentrate on his words. At this point, my head was nothing but a thick darkness. All I knew was that he must have spiked my drink, making me unable to talk or defend myself, and he planned to rape me or maybe even kill me.
And, as I heard the car door shut and blackness engulfed my brain, I knew there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it.
Chapter Seventeen
It turned out I still had a little life in me.
Managing to pull my arm up, I tried to grab the door handle, but my hand responded like a bulky, rubbery, uncontrollable heavy mass that merely banged against the door. It felt like it wasn’t even my own arm. Try as I might, I couldn’t even wiggle my fucking fingers.
My head slid to the side. hitting the window. I tried in vain to pull it back up, but my neck muscles were also unresponsive. My brain was just as bad. I tried working out what Ed was doing and why, but all that was swimming through my head was a muted sense of dread and numbness.
Not that there was a goddamned thing I could do about it.
My consciousness started to slip away again when I heard the car door open once more. “Stupid me. I thought you’d want to see where we were going, but that’s not going to work. You’ll be much more comfortable in the backseat, Sam.” Even now, I could register the derision in his voice. “Not that it really matters.” He undid the seatbelt and my head rolled forward, hitting the dashboard. It should have hurt, but I didn’t feel anything other than a little pressure.
While Ed lugged me out of the car, he continued talking. “Upsa daisy, little girl. Hey, Officer Frank. How are you this fine evening?” I tried to force an eye open but I couldn’t. Was he actually talking to someone? “Ah, yes, I’m afraid this little lady had too much to drink tonight.” He hoisted my body up, leaning me against him as he walked me toward the back of the car. “Gonna tuck her in and read her a bedtime story before I hit the hay myself.” He didn’t say anything else until he dropped me in the backseat like a sack of potatoes, thudding with a sound I knew only I could hear. “On second thought, I’m gonna fuck her six ways to Sunday. She owes me that much. And then I’ll tuck her ass in if I feel like it.”
I was falling deeper into an abyss as I felt Ed adjusting my body on the backseat. I knew this was it.
But then I heard a voice that seemed far off. Even from a distance, it was so familiar. “Where do you think you’re taking her?”
“She’s had too much to drink. I’m taking her home.”
“Actually, I think I should do it.”
“Don’t you think you’ve harmed her enough?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I was losing consciousness, so I knew it had to be a dream, but that second voice sure sounded like Ryan.
“Her career—gone, down the toilet. You need to go home, little boy, and let a real man take care of her.”
I tried to open my eyes, to force my tongue and throat to work, to lift my body. I wanted to scream that Ed had no intention of taking care me of me—but my brain and body wouldn’t respond.
“Bullshit. I want to hear it from her first.”
“She’s in no condition to—”
I heard a loud noise and tried to open my eyes to see what happened, but I couldn’t. Soon, I felt a warm body close to mine. “Sam?”
I tried again to make my mouth work, but it sounded to my own ears like I had a mouth full of mashed potatoes.
There was a light brush on my cheek. “Do you want—? Oh, shit. What the hell—” I felt his hand under my back before I heard a thud. Then Ryan disappeared from the car, and I heard a clang on the pavement outside, followed by scuffling.
And that was when I was engulfed in complete and utter darkness…
* * *
I awoke to bright light. Before I even opened my eyes, I could see the light through my eyelids, but they still felt heavy. My mouth was dry and I felt groggy and my head and
throat hurt like hell—but I was alive.
Probably.
I was afraid to open my eyes, because I didn’t know what I’d find on the other side.
But as I lay there, I realized there was a steady beeping sound and as my ears followed it, I also felt some kind of tape on my arm while something pinched my finger. Opening my right eye just a slit, I thought I could see Ryan slumped over in a chair.
What the fuck was going on?
Now in a panic, I tried to sit up, but my body wasn’t ready to move quickly. Still, both my eyes were open now, taking everything in. Ryan might have been sitting in a chair with his eyes closed, but I was finally able to figure out that he was sleeping and safe—and I was in a hospital bed.
And it was fucking bright in that goddamn room.
I tried to sit up but it was difficult, and not because they had an IV in my arm. I felt weak and heavy. But I managed. And then it hit me—I needed to pee like I never had before, so I struggled to sit up.
Then Adam walked through the door, two paper cups of coffee in hand. “Samantha, what the hell are you doing?”
Ryan stirred at the sound of his voice and sat up quickly, looking as if he hadn’t been nodding off at all. “Sam.”
My voice was scratchy. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
Adam set the cups down on a small counter. “I can call a nurse.”
Ryan stood up. “If you think you can make it there, we can help you.”
“Yeah.” The more I awakened, the more my body obeyed my commands, and I slid my legs so that they draped over the side.
“They’ve got her hooked up to all that shit, Ryan.”
“Yeah, but she can take the IV stand with her. It’s on wheels. This thing, though,” he said, pinching on the object clinging to my finger, “can just be taken off.” When he looked at me, I could’ve drowned in those emerald eyes as I realized in the pit of my gut that this man had truly been my hero.
And he was continuing to be.
I was having a hard time moving, but I managed to slide my legs down until my feet hit the floor. Ryan wrapped an arm around me, holding me up. Tightening a weak fist around the IV pole, I tested that my legs and knees could hold my weight. They were wobbly, but I managed.
“All right,” Adam said. “I’m still going to call the nurse in case they need to check you now that you’re awake.”
And that started off an onslaught of activity I wasn’t quite ready for. The morning was full of poking and prodding and later I even made a statement to a police detective.
But not once did I mention the indiscretion of sleeping with my client—because it paled in comparison to Ed O’Malley’s seeming insanity.
Through it all, though, my best friend and a guy I was beginning to think of as my new boyfriend stood beside me, giving me strength, support, and love.
* * *
“So tell me everything,” I said, opening a bottle of water. Finally, I was home, wearing a t-shirt and sweats, sitting at my kitchen table with a bandage around my wrist. I’d already pieced events together, but I wanted to hear it from Ryan.
“Not much to tell that you don’t already know.” He set two plates on the table before opening the big paper bag. The smells of Chinese food wafted into my nose, making my mouth water. I’d merely picked at the tray of food they’d brought me in the hospital but now I felt like I was starving.
Ryan let me go through the little boxes first, putting spoonfuls of this, that, and the other on my plate with a tiny bit of rice in the middle. “My mind finally feels like it’s not stuffed with cotton balls, so talk, mister.”
He grinned at me, making my insides melt like gooey chocolate. “You’re pretty demanding.” Snickering, I scooped up a forkful of Kung Pao chicken while raising an eyebrow. “I was inside the nightclub talking with my bros but I looked up to see what you were doing again and you were gone. I saw Adam and most of your gang still there, though, so I kept looking. When I finally spotted you, you were at the door, and you and that guy had your arms around each other. After what you told me, I knew something weird was going on. At first, maybe I thought you were just being friendly—but something didn’t look quite right, so I decided to check it out. When I got outside, I couldn’t find you guys at first, but then I saw him holding you up. You looked like a limp stuffed animal. Then I knew something was wrong. When I asked him what was going on, he said he was taking you home. Instead of a hospital.”
“He said he was taking me home?”
“Yeah. And when I tried to get you out of his car, he hit me with a tire iron. But he couldn’t get a good angle at my head inside the car, so we exchanged a few blows—but somebody called the cops, because they got there just as I managed to get him subdued. And he was trying to tell them I did all that. That I’d drugged you with the intent of raping you, so he was a hero, putting you in his car to take you to the hospital. I think they might have believed him until Adam came out. They questioned us both for a while.”
“Did they arrest Ed?”
Shrugging, Ryan piled food on his plate. “I have no idea.”
I set my fork down, my appetite gone once more. “Was his intent to rape or murder me?”
“Don’t you remember what the doctor said?”
Hell, I didn’t even recall talking to a doctor. I could only remember the nurse going over discharge paperwork with me. I shook my head, pursing my lips.
“Whatever shit that guy gave you—it was some kind of date rape drug. The doc said you usually lose consciousness and experience amnesia. Most of the time women can’t remember what happened the night before, even if they think something happened that shouldn’t have.”
That made more sense—but it didn’t make me feel better.
And the only reason I was able to sleep that night was because I was in Ryan’s arms, and I believed he would protect me no matter what happened.
* * *
May had always been one of my favorite months. Spring was in full bloom and the weather was warm enough so I could wear open-toed shoes that showed off my polished nails. It was a time of renewal—and my life reflected it.
Ryan’s voice washed over me as I bit a cherry tomato covered in dressing. “Marybeth Shapiro, an attorney who has owned a private practice in Winchester for the past five years, met with us, confirming that she, too, wished to come forward with her own statement about former Assistant District Attorney Edward O’Malley. ‘I had questioned myself for a long time and was full of doubts. I owe so much to Samantha Paulson for sharing with all of us what happened to her’.” Ryan looked up from the newspaper. “See, babe? See what you sparked?”
I hated taking credit for women finding their voices to tell their personal horror stories so that they could in turn find ways to move on from what was likely the worst violation of their bodies—especially since I’d avoided actually being violated. Yes, Ed had drugged me and now, as more women came forward, I knew that he would have raped me, dropped me off somewhere (my home if I was lucky), and then pretended nothing had happened. After my experience, I’d gone to a counselor—but shortly afterward that, a paralegal from the DA’s office contacted me and we met for coffee. She told me about a July Fourth barbecue at the DA’s house a year or two earlier. Sure, she’d had a few beers, but she’d somehow passed out before the fireworks show—and she woke up the next morning in the twenty-four hour laundromat on Main Street. But her car was still parked at her host’s house—and, over the next few weeks, she kept having recurring nightmares about Ed O’Malley kissing her.
After a while, she tried to move on, but it was difficult.
Then another woman, this time Winchester County’s only female judge, came to the office late one Friday afternoon to ask me questions. She never divulged what had piqued her interest, but I could tell she was emotionally invested in what the papers had reported.
It was then that I decided I needed to do something.
I talked to one of my old friends who worked at
the public library, a gal named Megan Walker. She booked the community room for free for me on a Tuesday evening, and another old friend Nicki Sosebee with the Winchester Tribune wrote a small article, inviting women to attend the event where I promised to talk about my experience—but all in the interest of having a bigger discussion about sexual assault. And her editor published it on the front page of the paper, way more than I could have asked for.
And then it exploded. The therapist I’d met with offered to talk about mental health in relation to the topic. A self-defense expert asked if she could speak for a bit to give tips on keeping ourselves safe. Other folks asked how they could help and local businesses donated what they could—refreshments, keychains with pepper spray, mini flashlights, and more.
It was an amazing event that lasted way longer than I’d planned, because after the “experts” talked, I asked if anyone there wanted to share her story—to let it go so she could heal—and one woman after another came forward, sharing at least part of her ordeal. It wound up being a beautiful night where many of us began or continued our journeys to wholeness.
But that wasn’t the end of it. The healing reverberated throughout the months as victims continued coming forward. At first, it looked like Ed was going to get away with what he’d done to me. There wasn’t enough evidence, the authorities had said—but as one woman after another came forward, some of them were willing now to make statements to the police. The heat was on. After being suspended from his job for a ridiculous amount of time, the DA had no choice but to succumb to public pressure and “relieve” Ed from his duties. And we finally had a trial on the books starting later this month.
It made me a little nervous, and Ryan knew it. “Are you going to eat that, Sam?”
“What?”
Ryan smiled. “That salad on your fork. You’ve been staring at it for a while now.” Nodding my head, I put it in my mouth. “It’ll be okay, babe.”
“Yeah, I know. I just never wanted to see that creep again.”
Love and Lust (Small Town Secrets Book 2) Page 16
