Vigilante

  I hadn’t been. Not yet. What a sad realization. Sadder was knowing that it would probably happen to me more than once before my life was over. Someone would at least try to violate me just for the sheer fact that I had a vagina instead of a dick.

  Had Gabe used sex to punish me the day before? If he’d been the girl and me the guy, people would say he teased me. Left me with blue balls. If I’d gone after him—the real, female me—and made him have sex with me, would anyone think that was wrong? Most guys would make it a joke. Because the only thing better than forcing a girl to have sex with you, was one coming after you on her own.

  Either way, we girls were going to get hurt and the guys were going to slut us up. No way around it. We wanted it as much as they did—wasn’t that the defense they used?

  The thing was, some of us did want it. We just wanted to be in charge of who we did it with and when.

  By the time I got a latte and sat down, I was vibrating with anger. I needed to take it down a notch, or I was going to lose it.

  “You look like you want to kill someone.”

  I looked up, even though I didn’t have to. I’d know his voice anywhere. Gabe. My jaw was tight as I stared at him. “You volunteering?”

  His left eyebrow rose. “Actually, I wanted to apologize. Can I sit with you?”

  I shrugged. “Do what you have to do.” My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t tell it if was because I was happy to see him or because he’d pissed me off.

  He sat across from me. His foot brushed mine beneath the table. I tried to force my jaw to relax. He looked perfectly calm. “Look, I’m sorry for yesterday. I shouldn’t have come over. I shouldn’t have let things go as far as they did, and I shouldn’t have left like that.”

  “You’re probably the first guy to ever turn down sex, but then how else were you going to punish me for not doing what you wanted?”

  Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “Is that what you think I did? Punish you? Manipulate you? Jesus, Hadley, I like you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I was trying to protect myself. Would you have sex with me if you thought I was keeping things from you?”

  Yes. God, what did that say about me? “That would depend on whether or not it was any of my business.”

  “You getting revenge on my sister’s attackers is my business.”

  “Would you tell me if it was you going after them?”

  “No, but that’s not the same thing.”

  “It’s exactly the same thing.”

  “They can’t rape me.”

  “You’re not naive enough to believe that.” I kept my voice low. “Rape isn’t about sexual preference.”

  “Fine. I think I could protect myself better than you can.”

  “That’s probably true. You’re bigger, and stronger, and you have a couple of years of training on me. You’d also be tried as an adult. I don’t think you’d be safe in prison, Gabe. You’re too pretty.”

  He placed his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “You know everything you say tells me it was you in that video.”

  “What if it is?” I challenged. “What are you going to do? Stop me?”

  “Yes.”

  I smiled. “I don’t need protection.”

  “No. You need to give your head a shake and stop taking risks.”

  “Not going to happen. You’re right—it was me in that video.” I watched the surprise play over his face. He hadn’t expected me to admit it. “I took the picture of Jason too. Now what? Are you going to stake out my house? Follow me everywhere I go? You have college and a job, and I’m not about to give you my schedule.”

  He stared at me. “I don’t know if I want to shake you or kiss you.”

  I smiled, and leaned over the table so that our faces were only a few inches apart. “Try either and I’ll put you on your ass.”

  His lips curved. “You liked it yesterday.”

  “Yesterday I thought you meant it.”

  Gabe’s smile vanished. “I did. I just don’t get involved with girls who lie to my face.”

  “Sure you do. You guys don’t care what we say. You’d like it better if we didn’t speak at all.”

  He pulled back like I’d slapped him. “You think I’m like them?”

  I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. “Aren’t you? You barged into my room and tried to intimidate me. You’re trying to make me behave like you think I should, and telling me that I should behave differently because I’m a girl. You’re not treating me like someone you like and respect, Gabe. You’re acting like you want to control me.”

  His eyes hardened; they were like black stones boring right into me, so sharp they had to leave a mark. “You know me better than that.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “You know what? Do whatever you want. Get yourself hurt or worse.”

  “Whatever happens I asked for it, huh?”

  “Fuck you, Hadley.” He turned on his heel and walked away. I watched his back with a hollow feeling in my chest. Whatever.

  I didn’t need him anyway.

  Last Year

  I couldn’t believe Magda had bailed on me. She left me standing there alone at the party like an idiot while she went off with Drew. Gabe hadn’t stuck around for long—he’d probably met some girl who was far more sophisticated than his little sister’s best friend—and I was totally on my own. God, I just stood there, looking like an idiot.

  Until Michel showed up. He was cute and French, and I was full of spite. I’d show Magda. She was off making out with Drew? Well, I’d make out with Michel.

  We did more than make out. Much more. Afterward, I felt...weird. Disappointed. It certainly wasn’t what they talked about in books, but I had the oddest feeling that it was supposed to be more than what I’d just experienced. Michel didn’t seem to know what to do afterward, either. He asked if I wanted him to drive me home, but I couldn’t leave without Magda.

  When I returned to the party, I saw Drew with his buddies, but I didn’t see Magda. I asked around, but half of the people there didn’t know who she was. Finally, I went up to Drew.

  “Where’s Magda?” I yelled over the music.

  “Who?” he asked, laughing.

  “Cleopatra!”

  He and his friends laughed some more. One of them—Jason Bentley—looked uncomfortable. He smiled, but didn’t look at me.

  “She’s sleeping it off,” Drew shouted in my ear. “She had a busy night.”

  They laughed again. A shiver of unease ran down my spine. I hurried away from them, and their mocking laughter. I looked in every room downstairs and then moved upstairs. I walked in on a couple making out in the bathroom—it was Michel and another girl. I shook my head at him. “You really get around, don’t you?”

  Before he could answer, I closed the door. It wasn’t like my feelings were hurt by his apparent attempt to set the world record for hookups in one night—I hardly knew the guy. He’d just been a way for me to lose my virginity and get back at Magda for abandoning me, which seemed stupid to me when I thought about it.

  I opened a bedroom door and walked in. It smelled like booze and barf inside. I almost backed out, until I saw the girl on the bed. She was passed out, and her dress was up around her waist, the top pulled down so one breast was bare. Her panties were wrapped around one ankle.

  Oh, God.

  “Magda?” My voice was little more than a whisper. My hands shook as I closed the door behind me and walked toward the bed. The lamps were bright, and as I drew closer, I saw a smudge of what looked like blood on her thigh—more on the white of her dress. Condom wrappers littered the bed and floor—there had to be at least six of them, and they were all empty.

  What had they done to her? I was cold with shock and anger. This couldn’t be real. But it was real. They’d raped her—Drew Carson and h
is three friends—maybe even more.

  The bastards.

  “Magda?” I gave her a shake. She turned her head, and that was when I noticed the vomit on the side of her face. She’d thrown up on the bed and then had been allowed to lie in it. She had circular bruises on her breast and on her thighs.

  Bite marks.

  “Oh my God.” I had to get her out of there. Had to get her to the hospital. I did the only thing I could think of—I called Gabe. Then, I cleaned her face and fixed her clothes. I had her somewhat awake by the time her brother arrived. I also had her downstairs and at the back door.

  I caught a couple of guys looking at us. They looked down at a cell phone, then back to Magda and laughed.

  “What?” I demanded, glaring at them.

  One of them—he was dressed like a zombie—held up his phone. I couldn’t see it that well, but it wasn’t hard to tell that it was a video of someone having sex with a girl dressed like...Cleopatra.

  “Your friend’s a star,” he said with a laugh.

  I would have punched him in the face if I hadn’t been the only thing holding Magda upright.

  My cheeks burned. I looked around. Was everyone looking at us? At their phones? Girls laughed and made rude comments. A few looked at Magda with sympathy, but no one came forward to help me get her outside.

  No one tried to help her at all. Just me, and I was too late.

  * * *

  When I arrived at the dojo Thursday night, there were even more girls than there had been the week before. There were thirteen of us now. Detective Davies looked as surprised and pleased as I felt.

  “Isn’t this amazing?” she asked.

  I nodded. “It’s awesome. Do you think I could have a couple minutes to talk during class? I have an idea I want to share.”

  She looked intrigued. “Sure.”

  I wanted to ask her what she knew about the video of me, but was too afraid. If she thought it was me she’d question me, wouldn’t she? She’d at least look at me differently. Right?

  Maybe she was really good at hiding it and was waiting for me to slip up. I was just glad the bruise on my face had faded so she couldn’t ask me about it.

  I recognized the new girls from school. When Detective Davies asked them what made them join the class, they said they’d seen the video of “that girl who knocked out Brody Henry.” They wanted to be able to fight back too. Or just fight. I found it hard to look at some of their faces, because it was obvious some of them had been hurt in the past, or were afraid of being hurt in the future.

  Detective Davies gave them a tight smile. “Just to be clear, this class is not to teach you to beat up boys. I know some of you think that girl’s a hero—but what she’s doing is wrong.”

  “Why?” Zoe challenged. “She’s letting them know they can’t get away with rape.”

  “That’s not her job,” the cop responded.

  “No, it’s yours,” Zoe shot back, looking her in the eye.

  “Yes, it is. Sometimes my hands get tied. You think I don’t hate letting rapists walk free? But people can’t take the law into their own hands. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

  “Yeah,” said another girl. “Rapists.”

  “I heard the girl in the photos killed herself after those guys got away with raping her. Is that true?”

  “It is,” I said before I could stop myself. Everyone—including Detective Davies—looked at me. “She was my best friend. But this class isn’t about her. It’s about making sure what happened to her doesn’t happen to any of you.”

  “Wouldn’t the best way to do that be to teach guys not to rape?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Good luck with that.”

  Detective Davies stepped up. “While I could waste my breath defending myself, I won’t. The law decided there wasn’t enough evidence to charge Magda Torres’s alleged attackers with rape. Do I agree with that? It doesn’t matter. I have to uphold the law. It’s my job, and sometimes I don’t like it. That’s why it’s important to me to teach classes like this one, so let’s get started, okay?”

  Then she recapped some of the things she’d taught in the previous classes, then began on a new lesson. I paid attention to only half of what she said. Thankfully, I was already familiar with the physical aspect of the class. I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Gabe’s face when I accused him of trying to manipulate me. He’d been so hurt and angry. I’d been the one who started it—I’d kissed him first. He could have just as easily accused me of trying to use sex to stop him from asking questions. And then when he did ask, I lied. Right to his face, looking him in the eye.

  I’d been so angry and upset over the conversation with my mother that I’d been a complete and total bitch to him when he tried to apologize for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. I had to fix that. He didn’t deserve to be treated like shit.

  “Hadley, you had something you wanted to share?”

  Detective Davies’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Uh, yeah.” I stood up and went to the front of the room where she stood. “Hi. I’m Hadley White. So, you know my friend Magda killed herself after being raped at a party. No offense, Detective Davies, but there was nothing alleged about it. I know what happened to her, because I was the one who found her when they were done with her. I was also the one who found her when she overdosed.”

  There was a murmur of sympathy. I blinked back tears. “As girls we’re taught that we’re in competition with each other. You know it’s true—we compete for grades, for guys, for the best hair... I think it’s time we stopped being against each other, and be there for each other.” I had their attention now.

  “I want to start something called The Girlfriend Watch. We can look out for each other at parties. Make sure we all get home safe, that kind of thing. Even if I’m not at a party, if Zoe calls me because she’s had too much to drink and some guy is pestering her, I can go get her. And if something horrible does happen, we can take care of each other and make sure one of us doesn’t get painted with the slut brush.” Someone actually laughed.

  I held up the clipboard I’d grabbed from José’s office. “If you’re interested, write down your name and cell number. I’ll send each one of you a contact list. Share it with your girlfriends and add them to it, as well. The more of us looking out for each other, the better.”

  I turned to Detective Davies. “Can we add you to the contact list, Detective?”

  “In this room I’m just Diane,” she answered. “And yes. Each and every one of you can call me if you’re in trouble. I will answer, and I will come for you. Thank you, Hadley, for coming up with such a wonderful idea. Once you’ve written down your information, grab a partner for sparring. That is, if Hadley’s finished?”

  I nodded. “I am. Thanks.”

  My name and info was already on the list, so I just stood back as the girls added themselves one by one before partnering off. I went to my bag and took out my phone. I selected Gabe’s number and wrote, Want to apologize. I was an ass. Can we meet? I hit Send before I could change my mind.

  I was just putting my phone away when the notification that I had a text popped up. It was from him. Come over when you’re done. My heart somersaulted. He was probably still mad, and that was okay. At least he wasn’t so mad he didn’t want to see me. I’d take that as a win.

  When class was done, Zoe suggested coffee, but I bailed so I could go see Gabe. It wasn’t a long walk to his house, so I slung my bag over my shoulder and set off.

  I was walking past a small bar that had been around since the fifties when I heard a girl’s voice. “No!”

  I stopped, jerking my head in the direction of the cry. Quietly, I crept toward the dark alley between the bar and another building. In the murky light, I could see a guy pinning a girl against the side of the building. H
e had her arms behind her back and was kissing her neck as she cried.

  I don’t know why I was shocked. Given the last few months, I would probably be more shocked if he wasn’t trying to force himself on her. There were good guys in the world—I knew that, but why did so many have to be complete and utter pricks?

  The ski mask was in my bag. I pulled it out of the side pocket where I kept it and pulled it over my head, stuffing my hair inside so no one could see what color it was.

  I slipped into the alley, keeping to the shadows. The girl’s crying was louder now, her struggles more frantic.

  “C’mon, baby,” the guy urged. “You know you want it as bad as I do.”

  “Hey, asshole,” I said, my voice low.

  He stopped, lifted his head and turned around. He was medium height and build, with a face that might have been nice to look at if it wasn’t for the fact that it belonged to a jerk. “You’re that freak from the news.”

  The girl sagged against the wall, digging in her purse, probably for a phone. I turned my attention to her attacker. “And hey, you’re that asshole who doesn’t understand the word ‘no.’”

  He snorted. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “This.” I kicked him in the balls. “And this.” I kneed him in the face when he doubled over.

  “What the hell’s going on?” A new voice—male—shouted.

  There was a flash of light that made stars dance before my eyes. I tried blinking them away, but suddenly I was grabbed and slammed into the side of the building with the force of being hit by a small truck.

  “Little bitch,” the new guy growled. “Let’s see how you like it.” The stars cleared just in time for me to dodge a punch. He hit the wall instead. I heard his knuckles crunch just before he screamed.

  The guy I’d kicked had gotten up. He grabbed me as I tried to run by. He punched me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me. It hurt. It really hurt, but I’d been punched before. I came up with a punch to his throat, turned on my heel and started running for the street. The girl was gone, and I wasn’t stupid enough to test my luck against two full-grown men. Besides, there were probably more of them.