by Dana Mason
“Does Ali know why you and I are...” She lowered her eyes.
“Absolutely not, and I wouldn’t tell anyone anything unless I had to.”
She nodded. “It would make me sick to think about her feeling sorry for me.”
“Don’t worry. The only person she’s feeling sorry for is herself.”
Sarah’s head shot up. “Why?”
"Ali likes being the prettiest girl in the room, and you...beautiful you,” he said, poking her nose softly with his index finger, “have completely crushed her feeling of superiority.”
Heat rushed her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said, and laughed.
“Did I miss the joke?”
“The joke is,” she leaned in close to his face and whispered, “I wasn’t even trying.”
He looked her up and down when she took a step back. “In that case, I can’t wait until you try.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sarah changed into sweats and joined Mark on the sofa. He picked up the remote and flipped through the channels until he found the news.
Spending time with Jamie improved his mood a great deal. Unfortunately, their conversation brought him back down a notch. She regretted that her past had ruined yet another day for her. She’d had a good time hanging out with Mark and Jamie, but she couldn’t change who she was or where she came from.
When she heard the familiar sound of the Channel Two news anchor’s voice, she looked up and caught the headline.
...third sexual assault in Sonoma County within a week, the police suspect a serial rapist…
Mark’s phone vibrated on the side table and he snatched it up. “Brian...” He closed his eyes. “Yeah, it’s on the news.”
Sarah walked into the bathroom and paced, taking deep breaths to keep from being sick. When she felt more in control, she went back to face Mark.
She stood in the doorway to the living room and listened to Mark’s side of the conversation. And as she listened, it became painfully clear that he hadn’t been honest with her.
“Call me back when you have more news, I gotta go—” He began to stand, but froze halfway up. “Wait, what aren’t you telling me?” His face paled a shade before he straightened. “Oh my God.”
Slowly he closed his phone and turned to Sarah. His expression changed from trepidation to concern. “You okay?”
She gently crossed her arms over her chest. “You haven’t been honest with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Really? Do you think I’m stupid?”
His shoulders slumped. “Sarah...”
“Tell me what information Brian just gave you.” She inhaled deeply to regulate her breathing. “According to the news, there have been two other attacks in the last week, one today. Did Brian tell you about the second attack?”
She sat down before she lost her nerve and collapsed. She hated being lied to, and she wanted answers, honest answers. His lies scared her more than what she saw on the news.
“Let’s sit down and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“I am sitting! Mark, did Brian tell you about the other rape?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head in frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to ruin your day. You were finally feeling better and...” His eyes lingered on the floor. He took a step back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I apologize for not telling you.”
“What did Brian tell you on the phone?”
“They’re sure it’s the same guy who attacked you.”
“What else?” she asked, clamping her hands together to hide her jumping nerves.
“He...uh...wanted to make sure I was keeping an eye on you. Brian believes you’re still being targeted.”
Sarah bowed her head and scrubbed her face with her hands. He was stalling—keeping things from her. Lying. She wasn’t stupid. She could see right through his stammering bullshit.
Mark stepped forward and reached a hand out for her. “Are you all right?”
She pushed it away. “Why? Tell me why he believes that. What new information did he give you?”
He stared at her without speaking, obviously trying to get his lies in order before he said too much.
“I am not a child. Stop treating me like one. I don’t like not knowing—this deceitful behavior isn’t okay with me.” She fought to control her temper, trying not to overreact. She wanted to trust him, but if he kept secrets, how could she?
She closed her eyes and shook her head. She thought he was different—but Mark was no different. He wanted to control her. Only he disguised it as protecting her. No, she wouldn’t let this happen again—not again.
Sarah stood and walked from the room, pulling her borrowed cell phone out of her pocket. She went into her bedroom, closed the door behind her, and started dialing numbers.
“‘Ello.”
“Hey, Devon.” Relief washed over her at the sound of his voice.
“Hey, Sis, what’s going on?”
“Can I hang out with you for a few weeks? I need a change of scenery.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Why do you immediately assume something is wrong?”
“What should I assume when you ask if you can visit before you say a real hello?”
She rolled her eyes, bouncing her head back and forth. He had a point. “I miss you.”
“You don’t have to ask to visit me. You’re always a sight for sore eyes.”
His warm voice comforted her, but she couldn’t hold in her unsettled, strangled giggle when she thought of giving up and leaving.
“What’s up with you?” he asked.
“I need a break. I need a friendly face.” Her voice broke when she said it.
“You can’t lie to your big brother. Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Nothing I want to talk about over the phone. If you’re sure it’s okay, we’ll talk when I get there.”
“You can come here anytime. Don’t be stupid.”
“Thanks, I’ll see you Friday.”
Sarah hung up and pulled her suitcase out of her closet. She needed to call Ava and ask her to check on the house when she got back from her trip. Sarah lifted the suitcase on the bed, dialing Ava’s number at the same time. Before she got the number dialed, Mark knocked on the bedroom door. She stuffed the phone back in her pocket and jerked the door open.
“Hey, listen—” He stopped midsentence, looking into her room at the suitcase on her bed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving town until the police can get this figured out.” She turned and unzipped the suitcase. “Thanks for everything you’ve done, but you don’t have to worry about me. I have a safe place to go.”
He stepped closer to her. “Where are you going?”
“I’d rather keep that to myself.” She paced the room, pulling clothes from her closet and adding them to her suitcase.
Mark’s voice tightened. “You said you didn’t want to leave.”
“I can’t be stupid about this. I need to keep myself safe, regardless of what I want.” The decision to leave relaxed her. Running was in her blood. She had her mom to thank for that. And not being able to trust Mark changed everything for her.
“No.” He shook his head, his voice sounding panicked. “I can’t let you leave.”
She threw the sweater she’d finished folding into the suitcase. “Excuse me, but you don’t have a say. I stopped listening to your opinion when you started lying to me.”
When he came closer, she stepped around him, pulling clothes off hangers and carrying them to her bed.
“Sarah, don’t leave. I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
“Too late. You should have already told me everything. Come on, Mark, aren’t you sick of being here anyway? Aren’t you sick of all of this? Don’t you want to go home and back to your normal life?” She fought the painful regret surfacing. How could she have let herself get sucked into this? She w
anted so badly to believe in him, to trust him.
“What are you talking about? I want to be here for you. Why don’t you believe that?”
She threw her hands in the air. “Why? Tell me why it’s so important to be here. Why do you have this masochistic need to protect me?”
“Because that son of a bitch could have attacked anyone.” He ran his hands through his hair and made a fist, his eyes darting around the room, searching for the words he needed. “My mother was in that parking lot. My sister, Ali, any student could’ve been his victim. You—fighting him off—were incredible, and strong, and nobody else could have...but you did.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I need to do this. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me.”
“Obligated...no...” He held his hands up. “That’s not what I meant. I need to make sure you’re okay because I care about you—not from obligation.” He stepped closer. “Just stop packing and talk to me—give me a chance to tell you what happened.”
“I trusted you, and you lied. How could you do that?”
He reached out, his arms engulfing her. “I’m sorry about lying, but you can trust me, Sarah.
Tensing, she stood stock still, not sure what to do. Once his warmth settled into her, she relaxed. Mark’s embrace didn’t relax, and she realized he was more upset than she’d ever seen him. She put her arms around him and some of her anger subsided.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Give me a chance to fix this.” He moved his hand up to the back of her neck and his fingers threaded through her hair. Then he pulled back and looked at her. His intense stare traveled from her eyes to her lips as he leaned in and kissed her. She expected tender, but he was passionate, hot, and oh so goddamned sweet.
Mark’s kiss melted her resolve. His warmth pulled her in and held her there, kept her warm and made her feel safe again. He would protect her even from her own fears. Her heart raced in her chest. God, how she wanted to enjoy his touch without hesitation, but she didn’t trust her own judgment or her feelings. She pulled away, sucking in fresh air, hoping to clear her muddled brain.
“Shit!” He stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
She stood with a racing pulse, searching for answers, searching for a reason to run away. Her heart said jump, but her head wasn’t quite sure.
He stared at her and the sincerity in his eyes...in those deep blue eyes made her want to cry. His eyebrows creased and his cheeks were flushed. He placed his hands on his hips, leaning forward, inhaling fresh air. “Will you let me explain... please. I can’t protect you if you leave.”
“Or control me.”
His head snapped up. “What?”
“I don’t need you to protect me. I have the resources to take care of myself.” She put her hand to her chest, trying to slow her pulse.
“Yeah, you can take care of yourself, but dammit, I am asking you to trust me.”
The angry knot in her stomach tightened. “I can’t trust you when you keep things from me. I have a lot more to worry about than this rapist.” She stepped back, hoping he didn’t hear the tremble in her voice.
Mark moved to her again and placed both hands on her face, kissing her, only slowly this time, allowing her to taste him fully. When her body curved against his, he pulled away enough to see her face.
“I will never hurt you.” His lids grew heavy as he searched her face. His expression softened. “Stop packing and let me prove it to you.”
He slid his hands down her arms and laced his fingers with hers to pull her back to the living room. She went with him willingly. The truth came through in his kiss, and she couldn’t deny it. She still wanted to hear everything, but her doubt was fading.
Mark turned the TV off and sat on the sofa, facing her.
He told her everything, beginning with the rape from the week before. After Sarah heard the story about this first rape, her body went ice cold, and Mark didn’t miss the change in her constitution.
“You okay?”
“Don’t stop unless I throw up on you.” She was serious, but she half-smiled at him as she leaned over and put her hand on top of his. “I’m fine, keep going.”
“Brian suspects the rapist is obsessed with you because you escaped him. He’s...” Mark’s jaw flexed when he gritted his teeth and said, “had a taste and now won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“Brian said that before, but when he called tonight...what did he tell you?”
“The attacker’s descriptions matched again, and both of the other victims looked like you. The attacks were similar, only while he raped her...” Mark cursed and looked down at their hands. His jaw clenched when he said, “While raping her, he said your name—he called her ‘Sweet Sarah’.”
“He—he said my name while raping this other girl?” Sarah barely got the words out. Bile rose in her throat, burning until she swallowed hard. She rested her head in her hands, concentrating on forcing the air in and out of her lungs.
“I’m sorry...” Mark cursed under his breath and reached for her hand. “Sarah?”
“Fine,” she huffed, brushing him off. “I’m fine. I just...need a minute.” When her breathing slowed, she leaned back with her eyes closed. After a few minutes, she stood and tried to shake it off as she walked into the kitchen.
She grabbed a bottle of wine and went to the drawer to get the corkscrew. After fighting with the cork, Mark pulled them both out of her hands and opened the bottle for her. He poured her a glass as she lifted herself onto a barstool. She couldn’t talk yet.
They were silent until Mark said, “Are you staying?”
When she closed her eyes, he tried again. “I’m sorry about before. I hope you know now it wasn’t done deceitfully.”
“Having good intentions doesn’t mean it wasn’t deceitful.”
He nodded. “I know...it got away from me.”
“Mark, you have to give me the chance to decide for myself. I need you to respect my decisions and my right to have all the information. I will leave and not look back.” She stared at him, hoping he understood.
“I won’t keep anything else from you.”
Sarah finished her glass of wine and refilled it before returning to her room to unpack. She thought about those other women. The things they’d gone through and the things they still had to face.
“I can’t help but blame myself. What those poor women went through. It never goes away, that layer of filth and shame.” This last part she whispered, though not low enough for him to miss.
Mark watched her unpack from a distance, as if he were afraid to approach. The space between them made her cold...lonely.
“You haven’t done anything wrong or anything to deserve this.”
“You can’t understand what it’s like to have the choice taken away, a man forcing himself on you. Not caring if you want or don’t want...and that powerlessness. Not being strong enough to stop—not having any control. It’s something that never goes away.” Sarah hugged herself in a daze as if her words were thoughts being spoken aloud by accident.
“You’re right,” he whispered, “I can’t understand.”
She lowered herself to the bed and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to hide the tears building in her eyes. How stupid of her to cry after making such a big deal about being able to take care of herself. Mark must have thought she was a walking-talking contradiction.
“You are strong enough to get through this.”
When he sat down next to her, Sarah jumped to her feet, putting distance between them. It was better to feel cold and lonely. It kept her out of trouble. She’d been alone for so long, she’d forgotten what it was like to have someone who cared, someone who wanted to listen to her. That’s what Mark had touched on, something she didn’t realize she was missing until it smacked her in the face.
She excused herself and went into the bathroom before her tears started to flow. Too much comf
ort, too much warmth. She needed a moment to have a breakdown without an audience—without his support. Because when he left, she’d need to keep moving forward alone.
After clicking the lock, she buried her face in a towel and sobbed, but not for herself—she cried for the rape victims who’d be scarred for life. What was she doing? How had she gotten herself into this mess—and how the hell did she get out of it?
When she had it out of her system, she washed her face, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the bathroom. Mark was leaning against the door frame between her bedroom and the living room, waiting for her.
“I’m okay,” she said before he got the chance to ask.
“Ya know...I don’t believe you.”
She lifted her chin. “It’s true.”
He laughed and that pissed her off.
“What is so funny?”
“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.” His grin faded. “There is nothing wrong with letting people in once in a while.”
“In on what?” She dropped her shoulders and the strong front she’d fought to keep in place cracked. “What do you want from me?”
“What do I want?” He stepped closer to her. “Sarah, is it that foreign for you to have someone in your life who just wants to be there for you and help you? Someone who cares about you?”
“Yes,” she said. “It is foreign to me.”
“Well I’m sorry you haven’t had that before...but you do now.”
She raised a hand and rested it on his chest. “Thank you for caring, and I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful.”
He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. He was sweet—this simple gesture drew her notice more than all the muscle-bound protection he could possibly provide. She understood that he was staying with her to protect her, but did he realize he’d given her just as much—or more emotional support than she could’ve ever asked for. The image of their linked fingers made her eyes well up again.
She brought her other hand up to cover her face. God, she hated to let him see her cry. He pulled her close, held her against him, and let her cry. No words, no expectations, no advice, and no attempts to get her to stop crying—he simply held her.
