Page 53 of Another Love, Another Time

River

Auggie sits in the recliner. When we spoke about my attack before, I didn’t go into detail. I had assumed he had read the report. There was no need to explain, and he wasn’t ready for what I really wanted to tell him at the time.

“I knew who my attacker ,” I start. His eyes widen.

I know he’s about to say something, but he stops when I give him a look.

“The statement I gave the police gave the details about the attack, but I left out one important detail. As you know, I didn’t tell them I knew who the attacker was.

To be honest, I’m not sure why I didn’t tell them at the time.

As I was lying in my hospital bed, I just kept going over and over something that he had said to me during the attack. ”

“What did he say?” Auggie asks.

“He said, ‘Iknow you want this too; she told me you wanted this. She told me you would try to fight, but you like it rough.’ It kept repeating in my head. It just didn’t make any sense.

‘She’ could only mean Melissa, especially considering their relationship.

Who else would have done something like that?

“At first, like you, I was convinced that Melissa wouldn’t have done something like that.

We are family. We grew up together. Yeah, she did shit to piss me off, but would she really have someone attack me?

But she’s the only person who would want that to happen to me.

I needed evidence that I could show everyone; I was afraid nobody would believe me. ”

“You could have just told the police. They would have followed up. They both could have been put behind bars.”, he says.

“I know this sounds stupid because I’m a detective now, but I also wanted to find the guy and beat the shit out of him like he did to me.

I wanted him to feel like I did: helpless, weak.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that if I turned him in.

I wanted to be the one to make him pay. I also wanted to know whoshewas and see if my instinct was correct. What if it wasn’t her?

“So, when I joined the Army, I soaked up all the training on hand-to-hand combat. I asked my drill sergeants and sergeants to spend more time with me because I wanted to be the best. And they did. They trained me well, so well that I was able to overpower a man twice my size. And then, I planned my attack.”

Auggie remains silent, so I continue.

River, 4 years earlier

A year after I left, I had leave I could use from the Army.

During that year in my downtime, all I did was research him online, looking at his social media accounts.

I noticed that after my attack, he didn’t post very often.

It was mostly him being tagged in pictures with his family.

He was smiling, but his eyes looked sad.

I didn’t want to read too much into it. I just wanted him to pay for what he did to me. I wanted him to hurt like he hurt me.

By stalking him online, I found out where he went to college and that he played football, so when I found him on the roster for a college, I came up with my plan. I would go to one of his games, wait until he came out, and follow him. I was hoping to get him alone.

As soon as I had all the details put together, I put in my request for leave, hoping it would be approved.

I started to look for airplane tickets and places to stay that were close to the college.

And I planned on renting a crotch rocket.

I would be able to follow him better. I know this is crazy and not the smartest decision I’ve ever made.

I could go to jail. Will I turn him after I attack him?

I feel like I’m going crazy. What if he attacks me again, and this time, he succeeds in raping me?

I can’t think like that. I’m prepared. I’ve trained for this. As soon as I receive approval, I’ll get everything booked for my trip.

When I arrive at the game, I find my seat near the tunnel where I know the team will be running out. I want to get a good look at him.

How am I going to get him alone? As I watch the game, I think about all the different scenarios that could play out. I want to be prepared for anything. I’ve tried to think of everything, but because I haven’t had a lot of time to observe him and his habits, anything could happen.

After the game, I wait outside the west exit door.

I heard that the players come out here when they leave the facility.

I can feel my adrenaline spike when I see him and a few other guys come out of the door.

I quickly make my way to my bike and wait for him to pull out.

I am feeling “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” vibes right now.

As he walks to his vehicle, he separates from the other guys.

I continue to wait until he pulls out, and then I follow him.

I assumed he would be going to some party to celebrate their win, but instead, I follow him back to an empty house. I sit outside and wait for what feels like hours, but it’s probably only minutes.

I notice a light on the first floor switch on, so I walk closer to the lit window.

He’s sitting on his bed, reading a book.

It looks like he might be studying. Something about studying reminds me of everything that changed when he attacked me.

It angers me. He’s living the life I was supposed to.

I was supposed to go to college to play sports, but he ruined that for me.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing outside when I hear his phone ping. He picks it up, looks at it, walks over to his dresser, and grabs some car keys. This might be my only chance to confront him when he’s alone. I approach the door and wait.

I want the motherfucker to see me, to see that he didn’t ruin me. It takes him a while, and I start to freak out a little bit. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. I can just go to the cops.

As I'm getting ready to run back to my bike, the door starts to open. He doesn’t see me as he closes the door and starts jogging down the stairs, but when he gets closer, I move. He looks up and sees me standing there.

I thought he would make a run for it as soon as he saw me, but he doesn’t. It's only a split second, but he knows exactly who I am. I have probably surprised him. He probably didn’t think I’d fight back.

I move to attack, but he starts crying and apologizing. I never anticipated this reaction from him, but regardless, how dare he fucking cry?

My fists clench. I want to make him hurt the way he did me, so I begin hitting and punching him. I go straight for the balls. I kick him, and he falls to his knees. I jump on him and start pounding on his face. He’s trying to cover his face.

I’ve been at it for a while when I realize he’s not fighting back. He’s just crying and telling me he deserves this.

With his size, he could overpower me, but he’s not even trying to fight. I get off of him and take in the damage. Blood coats his face like a mask. One of his eyes is swollen, his lip is split, and his nose is bleeding.

I look him in the eyes. “You’re not so big now, are you?” I kick him in the ass with my combat boots. He just keeps crying and telling me how sorry he is. I’m still trying to catch my breath. “Now you want to cry. You have no clue what you fucking did to me!”

His phone starts ringing, and he lets it go to voicemail. Before I can say anything, it starts ringing again.

“Do you need to get that?” I ask.

He tries to wipe the blood from his face. “I probably should. It’s my roommates, needing a ride.”

Somehow, the fight drains from me. This hasn’t made me feel any better, maybe because he didn’t fight back.

He gets up, and I step back. This might be a way to catch me off guard. He sees my cautious movement. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

“Excuse me if I choose not to believe you.” I sneer at him.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. If you want to turn me into the cops, I’ll follow you there.” He starts crying again. “I know I don’t deserve to be here. I’ve been looking over my back for the last year, wondering when you would pop up or if the cops would come get me in school.”

I shake my head. “You have no clue what you did to me.” I feel the tears coming, but I don’t dare let them fall.

“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but if you would meet me somewhere—in public, of course—we can sit down. You can ask me any question. I’m not sure what you want—” His phone starts ringing again.

He silences it and continues, “I owe you a lot more than an apology, but my friend needs a ride home, and I really don’t want him drinking and driving.

I’m not sure what you want out of this. If you want to beat the shit out of me, I’ll let you.

If you want me to turn myself in, I will. Let me know, and I will do it.”

I hadn’t really thought about what I wanted from this. For the past year, all I wanted to do was hurt him the way he hurt me, and it didn’t make me feel any better.

“I want answers,” I say. “You said something that night that I can’t get out of my head.”

He nods. “I have something to do in the morning, but if you want to meet somewhere public, I will have time tomorrow afternoon. We can go to the Mexican restaurant down the street.” He points in its direction.

I don’t trust him. Maybe he will bring his friends with him. “Give me your phone number, and I’ll text you 30 minutes before I want to meet you at the location.” I pull out my phone and type in the number as he tells me. I repeat it, and as I’m saving it, his phone vibrates.

“I really need to go. I’m the DD tonight. I’ll wait for you to text.” And then he takes off.

What the hell just happened? Did I just let him walk away? What if he goes to the cops?

I just beat the crap out of this guy, and now I’m meeting him tomorrow. I want answers, and I’m going to get them. If he doesn't show, I'll turn him in.

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