Page 47

He touches my face, wipes away a rogue tear. The gesture so gentle, it’s barely there. His eyes search mine, for what I don’t know but he must have found whatever he is looking for, because absolute determination takes over him.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“If anyone is going to kill him, it will be me.”

I steel myself and tell Liam the rest of the story. “After a few minutes I pieced together what happened. I got out of the bathtub and I found my purse on the floor. When I took my phone out, it was off. I know it was fully charged when I left the house and it had been on, so he must have turned it off. When I pressed the power button, and the phone turned on again, it was five twenty-three in the morning. There were several missed text messages and calls from Skye. The house was silent. My legs were very unsteady and I grabbed the sink to pull myself up. I found my other sandal behind the toilet bowl. Then the heaves started, but there was nothing in my stomach to come up. When I looked at myself in the mirror I didn’t recognize the face reflected in it. I was so pale and my eyes looked glazed over, dead. I checked my body and found black and blue marks all over. There were purple welts on my upper arms as if someone had grabbed me very hard. I could see clear fingerprints on my right arm.”

Liam’s hands fist in anger.

“I realized then I’d been raped.” The emotions of that day rush over me and I speak with my eyes closed. I cannot bear to look at Liam and see pity in his eyes.

“My first instinct was to call the police, but fear and shame slammed into me. My legs wobbled and I sat down on the side of the tub, staring at nothing, I don’t know for how long. I looked down and saw my panties still twisted around my ankle. I steeled myself and took deep breaths. I thought about what I could say to the cops. What did I have to go on? I was at a party and I drank half a cup of beer. It had to be laced with something because one cup of beer would not have knocked me out. The last thing I remember is getting up to go to the bathroom, but I did it alone. No one helped me up the stairs or down the hall and then … nothing. I don’t remember walking into the bathroom or if anyone followed me inside. But someone must have. Even if I remember nothing after that, someone had to have been watching me and waiting for the drugs to take effect. Then he followed me into that bathroom, raped me and left me behind. When I touched myself, the blood was dry, and there was no semen. Whoever it was, he used a condom. Years of psychology classes kicked in then and I instantly compartmentalized whatever I was feeling. I had studied trauma cases in the three years at RU. I knew all the phases I would go through. I couldn’t let everything hit me at once. It would crush me. One step at a time, I thought. First, clean myself up. Second, get out of there. Third, figure out what happened. Fourth, come up with an excuse for Skye. If I told her any of it, she would call our parents and next thing I’d know, I would be home listening to crystal singing bowls and receiving Reiki and energy therapy.”

“Now that you do know, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. It will be his word against mine. I can’t testify because I don’t remember anything. I can’t say for sure it was him. All we have is circumstantial evidence.”

“I just want to kill the bastard, but Logan will know what to do.”

“You can’t, Liam. Promise me you won’t go after him. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

The pleading in my eyes can’t be denied and he nods.

“That’s not enough, Liam, please. I need to hear you say it.”

“I won’t go after him, I promise.”

I looks at him for a long time, trying to assert if I can trust his word. Finally, I find what I’m looking for and my shoulders relax.

“Death is too good a fate for some people. I’d much rather send him to prison where he’ll be someone’s bitch.”

He laughs as a little of my spitfire spirit comes back. It would poetic, wouldn’t it? To see a rapist on the opposite end of the equation.