Forgotten

  “Fine,” she said, having a sudden inspiration. “I’ll tell you what—I’ll explain what happened to make me not want to let you, uh, taste me if you’ll tell me about the hunger.”

  He sighed harshly and she had a feeling she’d hit a nerve. Well maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he would be so unwilling to talk about his strange secret that he would let Kate keep hers. But after a moment he spoke, dashing her hopes of keeping her past hidden.

  “Fine—I’ll tell you,” he growled. “But you go first—I need to finish healing your back.”

  “All right.” He had her and Kate knew it—she had to tell, had to dredge up the awful old memory like a dead body that had been buried and rotting for years. Taking a deep breath, she tried to speak in a cold, emotionless voice, willing herself not to feel as she told Rone her past.

  “I was a freshman in college before I ever really dated,” she began, looking down at the quilt as Rone continued to heal her back. “Part of that was because of the Knowing—some of the kids could sense it, I think. They knew somehow that I was different, even though they couldn’t put their finger on how or why.”

  “It’s the same with me,” Rone murmured. “Some people can sense the Beast in me. We used to call them ‘Sensitives’. Most of them picked up my differences before they were bothered by you, though.”

  “Really?” Kate glanced back at him.

  He nodded. “Uh-huh. My Beast really bothers the ones that can sense it.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “You always say I scare the ‘shinola’ out of them.”

  “That sounds like me.” She gave him a little smile in return. “Anyway, enough people were bothered in my home town that I got the reputation as being the ‘weird’ kid.’ And it didn’t help that I had to wear this huge, hard back brace for years after my surgeries either. Looked like a freaking turtle shell but it went all the way around me.” She sighed. “So anyway, between that and the Knowing, none of the guys were exactly knocking down the door to get to me.”

  Rone was silent but it was a listening silence. He’d mostly finished with her back now, but Kate could still feel him behind her, the warmth of his big body radiating against her bare skin.

  “When I got to college, I thought everything was going to be different,” she went on. “I was out of the brace and even though I still had the Knowing, I was able to, I don’t know, shield myself a little better. Or maybe it was just that everyone was new and different and I didn’t stick out so much. Anyway…” she took a deep breath. “There was this guy in my French Literature class named Greg Compton.”

  The name tasted like dust in her mouth—like fear and sour wine and a past best left forgotten. But Kate knew that now she had started, she had to continue—there was no other way.

  “Greg Compton,” she made herself say again. “He was at least five years older than me and I thought he was amazing. He was tall—well, everyone is tall compared to me, but you know what I mean—and he had these big, soulful brown eyes. I think I was in love with him for a whole semester before he ever noticed me. But then…then we were assigned to analyze some poetry together.”

  “And what happened once he took notice of you?” Rone asked. He spoke quietly but there was a soft growl in his voice that sent a little shiver down Kate’s spine.

  “He…he invited me back to his dorm room to do the assignment together,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “And then he asked me if I wanted some wine. You know—well, you probably know—I’ve never been much of a drinker. I just don’t have much tolerance. Beer I would have said no to, but here was this sophisticated older man offering me wine and I didn’t want to seem like some stupid little freshman who didn’t know which end was up so I said yes, of course, I’d like some wine.”

  She paused for a moment, having a hard time going on.

  “And?” Rone asked softly after a long pause.

  “And…and I think he put something in it.” Kate sighed. “In fact, I’m sure he did. Not enough to knock me completely out, but enough to make me feel all warm and dizzy. The next thing I knew he was…” She swallowed, hearing a dry click in the back of her throat. “He was pushing up my dress.”

  “What?” There was definitely more of a growl in Rone’s voice now. “He dared to take advantage of you?”

  “Oh, he dared all right,” Kate said grimly. “I should have known better than to drink that wine or to go with him in the first place, you know? The Knowing tried to warn me but I…I wanted so badly to be noticed, to feel pretty and desired that I ignored it—pushed it to the back of my mind. It was my own fault, really…”

  “It was not your fault. Then what happened?” Rone asked in a low, intense voice. “How did you get away from him?”

  “I didn’t—not completely, anyway.” Kate winced at the memory. It was old but it still had sharp edges that cut her when she took it out to examine it—like an ancient shard of broken glass half buried in the sand of her past. “I…I started to panic but it was like everything was in slow motion. I tried to push him off me, but he said…said I should just…just let it happen. He said, ‘You’re going to love this, Katie. You’ll see.’”

  Kate swallowed hard and for a moment, she was back there, back in the dorm room that smelled of stale beer and dirty laundry on Greg’s crumpled, half-made bed. She could still feel his ice-cold hands groping between her thighs as he fumbled with her panties, yanking them roughly down in his eagerness to get to her.

  “He…he put his fingers in me first but I was scared and horrified so of course I wasn’t in any way ready for any kind of…of anything. So he said something about getting me ‘all hot and bothered’ and then…then he put his face between my legs,” she said, her voice coming out high and tight.

  “The bastard! You were too drugged to get away?” Rone sounded infuriated.

  Kate nodded. “I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down. I started to shout for help and then he said something like—‘Just shut up and enjoy it.’ And he put…put a pillow over my face.” She put a hand to her throat, her voice closing off to a whisper. “It was so awful—I felt like I was smothering. I couldn’t breathe.”

  The memory washed over her, the awful sensation of helplessness, of being unable to move, her ankles tangled in her panties as she kicked weakly but to no avail, the drug he’d given her holding her down as much as his hand on the pillow. It sent a shudder through her and she gulped in a breath, trying to get air in to her lungs, exactly as she had that night in the dorm room…

  A low growl from Rone brought her back to the present and somehow she was able to go on.

  “He was…so much bigger than me. And he was…I think he was coming at me sideways. Like, bending over me from above so he could hold me down with the pillow using one hand and force…force my legs open with the other.” Kate drew in another trembling breath and the words came out in a rush.

  “Then he started trying to…to get his tongue in me, I guess. It was cold too, just like his fingers. I remember that vividly, I don’t know why—maybe it was cold from the chilled wine. Anyway, it felt like he’d been sucking on ice cubes or something. It was weird and really awful—like a cold fish trying to worm its way inside me.”

  She pressed her thighs tightly together, the memory so deep and visceral it nearly made her sick.

  “And the whole time I couldn’t get a deep enough breath because of the pillow and I was wondering…wondering if I was going to die because I couldn’t breathe. I was seeing spots in front of my eyes and I remember telling myself, don’t pass out. You can’t pass out or you’ll never wake up!”

  She clenched her fists in the quilt, trying not to let the memory sweep her completely away, trying to anchor herself in reality. But it was hard…so hard not to let it take over her completely, not to get washed away in the tide of nightmares letting herself remember brought with it.

  “Kate…if you can’t go on…” Rone murmured behind her.

  “No,” Kate surprised herself
by saying. “No, I started this. I…have to finish. Unless…unless you’d rather not hear it?”

  “I’ll hear anything you have to tell,” he reassured her. “Although the hearing makes me want to kill the one who hurt you.”

  Kate gave a shaky laugh that was more than half sob. “I wanted to kill him too. But mostly I just wanted to be able to breathe. I think he put the pillow on my face mostly to muffle my screams but he was pressing down really hard. I finally managed to turn my head but I could still only get little sips of air. I was panicking but the drug still made it feel like everything was in slow motion—like drowning in a dream.

  “It seemed to go on forever—that cold tongue poking and probing inside me and the feeling that I was going to smother, that I was going to suffocate at any minute…” She shook her head. “It was awful. But finally…finally he seemed like he’d had enough of…of that anyway.”

  “He let you up?” Rone’s voice was still angry and tense but Kate knew the anger wasn’t directed at her.

  “He did.” She nodded. “I think he thought he’d been doing me a favor and that I’d be all warmed up and…and ready for anything else he wanted to do. He said, ‘Now wasn’t that good, Katie? Didn’t I tell you I’d make you feel good?’” She fisted her hands tighter in the quilt, the memory of his condescending words bringing tears of fury to her eyes. “Fucking pig,” she spat. The rage was still there, just under the surface. It made her wonder how she’d ever managed to push this memory under the rug in the first place.

  “Did you get away from him then?” Rone asked in a low voice.

  “I tried. He started to climb on top of me and this time…” Kate swallowed hard. “He had his dick out. And I knew what was coming next. I was still disoriented from whatever he’d put in my wine but I kicked out at him. I was aiming for his balls but I got him in the stomach instead.”

  She could still remember the look of shock and anger that had come over Greg’s handsome face when her foot connected with his toned midsection.

  “Hey, you little bitch,” he’d growled. “What the hell is wrong with you? I just went down on you for like, thirty fucking minutes. You owe me something in return!”

  “I don’t owe you a Goddamn thing! Get off me,” Kate remembered gasping, twisting and kicking, fighting to get up—to get away—to get anywhere but where she was, pinned to the dirty bed and about to be raped.

  “I managed to twist around,” she told Rone, closing her eyes. “I was scrambling off the bed but he grabbed the back of my dress and tried to yank me back.”

  Rone made a low, menacing sound but said nothing, though Kate could feel the tension in the big body behind hers.

  “It was my scars that saved me,” she said, trying to laugh. But the laugh came out sounding more like a sob.

  “How?” he asked in a low voice.

  “My dress ripped.” Kate swallowed hard, remembering the choking feeling of the material pulling tight against her throat and then the low, purring sound of fabric ripping down the back seam of the dress she’d been wearing. “It ripped,” she said again. “And when he saw the scars from all my surgeries, he gagged—actually gagged.” She took a trembling breath. “And he said…he said, ‘God, no wonder your pussy tasted so fucking weird. What are you, some kind of a circus freak?’”

  “The bastard,” Rone growled angrily. “How dare he try to force himself on you and then play on your worst insecurity?”

  “Well, as it turned out, playing on insecurities was what ol’ Greg was all about.” Kate gave another sobbing laugh and found that her eyes were stinging. “I got away from him that night and I wanted to report him. But he sent me an e-mail…”

  “He threatened you?” Rone asked when she paused.

  “Yeah, but not how you’d think. See, it turns out he and his roommate did this kind of thing a lot and they had a camera set up to film it. Sick fucks.” Just the memory turned her stomach.

  “The images should have been enough to show what kind of male he was and convict him!” Rone exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring them to the authorities?”

  “Because the part he sent was just…just pictures of my back. After my dress ripped, I mean.” Kate licked her lip, which still stung from the way she’d bitten it earlier during the caning. “He said…he told me in the e-mail that it was my fault I hadn’t enjoyed what he did to me. And he said he’d circulate the pictures and let everyone know…know what a ‘frigid freak’ I was. I…I didn’t want that. Didn’t want anyone seeing my back—my scars.”

  “Kate…”

  She hugged herself tightly, unable to stop talking.

  “I know I should have spoken up—I wanted to. I was getting up the nerve to do it when another girl did. And some others came forward and backed her up. And then…then I felt like I couldn’t. I mean, Greg and his roommate, they actually raped, those other girls. I guess…guess I felt like I’d gotten off light and I couldn’t…I mean, I didn’t have it as bad as they did so I couldn’t complain.” She sighed and wiped tears from her eyes. “Or maybe that was just an excuse I used so I didn’t have to admit what had happened, so I didn’t have to let everyone know what a freak I was…what a freak I still am.”

  “You’re not a freak,” Rone said roughly. “Kate, look at me…” He turned her to face him and looked at her earnestly. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, brushing away a tear from her flushed cheek. “Always so beautiful and brave and perfect to me, baby.”

  Kate gave another jagged laugh. “Yeah? Well, I don’t think I acted very bravely at the time. And it’s not like I had it as bad as the other girls Greg and his roommate got to.”

  “You fought him,” Rone said fiercely, his blue eyes burning. “Even with the drug in your system you fought! And you say he didn’t hurt you—didn’t rape you as he did the other females. But Kate, he still penetrated you against your will. And nearly suffocated you at the same time!” A look of deep sorrow came over his face. “Now I understand why you’re so reluctant to let me taste you. How can I blame you after what that bastard did?”

  “I…” Kate didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…I’ve spent so long trying to forget it. It’s hard…hard to talk about.”

  “Of course it is,” he said gently. His big hands curled into fists. “Where is the son of a bitch who did that to you now? I want to find him the next time we go to Earth and kill him.” His voice was a low, menacing growl. “I’ll rip his fucking head off and bathe in his blood!”

  Kate shook her head. “You can’t do that, Rone! And anyway, I don’t know where he is now.”

  “Was he at least punished by the authorities for what he did?” Rone demanded.

  Kate sighed. “I think he cut some kind of deal, if I’m remembering right. He turned on his roommate and somehow just got community service or something.”

  “What?” Rone sounded really incensed. “How could they just let him go free when all the evidence was caught on film?”

  Kate shrugged. “Well, someone tipped them off and they destroyed most of it. And for the footage that was left, apparently they were careful to keep their backs to the camera while they were filming so it was impossible to identify them.”

  “Then he hasn’t been properly punished.” Rone was glowering now, obviously really angry. “I’ll see to that the next time we go to Earth—I swear it. I just wish you could tell me where he’s living now.”

  “I have no idea. It’s not like I would ever want to keep track of him. I just wanted to get on with my life and try to forget.” Kate took a deep, trembling breath. “And for the most part, I did. I tried to forget about Greg, though I didn’t forget what he’d taught me—I was a lot more careful after that. I think…” She coughed. “I think it took me two years after that to go on another date and I never let myself be alone with a guy in his room or apartment again. But I recovered…I had other relationships.”

  “Never any lasting ones if what you told m
e was true,” Rone said in a low voice.

  “No,” Kate admitted uneasily. “It was…really hard to trust guys after that. Human guys, anyway. Maybe…maybe the reason I was able to trust you is because you’re not human—not like them. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I wish I could remember.”

  “You did say something like that to me, early in our relationship.” Rone sounded thoughtful. “And it did take you a long time to let me see your scars…or to let me taste you. Now I understand why.”

  “Yup. Now you know the whole, ugly story.” Kate tried to say it lightly but her words fell flat.

  “Yes, now I know,” Rone said softly, breaking the awkward pause that had fallen between them. “And it makes me marvel even more at your bravery—that you were ever able to overcome what was done to you and trust me.”

  “I wish I could remember that—remember trusting you.” Kate heard the wistfulness in her voice but couldn’t seem to help it. “I must have felt really comfortable about you to let you see my scars and…do everything else we apparently did.”

  “It took months,” he admitted, stroking her hair. “Months of talking and spending time together—I poured my whole self into the effort. I wanted you so badly, wanted you to trust me…to open up to me.”

  Kate sighed. “You must feel like all that effort was wasted now.”

  “Of course not. In fact, I want to thank you for trusting me again,” Rone said gravely. “Trusting me enough to tell me your story. You didn’t in the past, you know. It never came between us but I always felt there was something…some shadow on your heart and I wanted desperately to know what it was. So thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Kate found she couldn’t meet the burning intensity of his eyes for long. They were still lying on the bed together, face to face, and the intimacy of the moment was almost too much to bear. “Um…” She cleared her throat, casting about for something to say, some way to break the tension that had somehow grown between them. “Okay, so I showed you mine, now it’s time for you to show me yours.”