“Uh huh.” Hunter didn’t touch me, but started packing up our stuff.
“It’s Hunter, isn’t it? Have you told him yet?” Tawny said.
“No.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“NO!”
“I’m not going to tell him. Just let me talk to him.”
“She wants to talk to you.” I handed him the phone. Nothing after she’d said the thing about Travis had seemed real.
“Hi, Tawny, what’s up?” His voice was clipped. He walked away from me and listened, then responded in a hushed tone. “Okay, we’re going.”
I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if I could.
“We were supposed to have two more years. Then I was going to leave and go where he couldn’t find me,” I said to whoever would listen.
“Come on, we need to get you home,” Hunter said. My legs wouldn’t work. “All right, baby, I’m going to pick you up, okay?”
“No, I can do it.” I reached out for his hand, and he pulled me to my feet.
“You don’t always have to do everything yourself,” he said, taking my arm with one hand and carrying his guitar with the other.
I stumbled like I was drunk back to Hunter’s car. I didn’t want him touching me, but then I knew I wouldn’t have gotten back to the car by myself.
Hunter didn’t ask for details as he drove as fast as he could down the windy road back down the mountain.
“Slow down,” I said.
“I’m getting you home.”
“Well, I’d like to get there in one piece.”
“Fine.”
“Did Tawny tell you?”
“No. She said you would. All she told me was that I should get you home and stay there.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. I wished she would have.”
“So I’m guessing you’re waiting on an explanation.” My shock was thawing a little having him there.
“I’ve wanted one ever since I met you. You’ve got secret written all over you. But I’m one to talk about that. I just wish you’d trust me with it. I know it can’t be easy for you to carry.”
“It’s not.” I was not going to cry.
“I’d like to help you. Telling you about my parents made it better, not worse. Outside of family, you’re the only one I’ve ever really told, and it was scary as hell, but it felt good after. The truth will set you free and all that.”
“I’m afraid of what you’ll say.”
“Missy girl, there isn’t anything you could tell me that would make you think any different.”
Oh, but there was. It had the power to change everything. Especially now.
“I wish I could believe that.”
“Then do. Believe it. Believe me.”
I wanted to. More than anything.
I sat back in my seat and tried to calm my racing heart. I turned on The Head and the Heart again. I found the folky, slightly blue-grassy melodies soothing.
“Can you hand me my phone?” he said when we got back to the entrance of the park. He stopped the car, but left it running. I handed him his phone, and he hit the speed dial.
“Hey, Mase. I need a favor. Can you take Dare for the night? I need some time with Taylor. Yes. Uh huh. Thanks, man. Yes, I know I owe you. Thanks. Bye.”
He hit dial on another number.
“Hey, Ne. Can you do me a favor? Taylor and I, um, need another night. Yes. No. I will. Don’t worry. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
He tossed the phone in his cup holder.
“I thought you wouldn’t want a bunch of people around bugging you.” He knew me far too well. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay.” All the fight had gone out of me. My mind was already picturing Travis getting out of jail and then fulfilling the promise he made to me that night.
I didn’t talk for the next half hour as Hunter drove as fast as he could while still driving safely. I kept hearing him counting under his breath.
One, two, three, four, five.
I listened to him, and it lulled me into a weird sort of waking shock. It was like that feeling when you stare off into space. Only it didn’t end.
By the time we got back to the apartment, Renee and Darah were already gone. They’d left us a little surprise in the form of a heart made of cupcakes.
“Look at me,” Hunter said, as we walked in the door. Rationally, I knew that there was no way Travis was there, but my head still went there.
“No one is going to hurt you. You’re not a weak girl. You kicked me in the balls within hours of meeting me. You’re not afraid of anyone,” he said.
I was just afraid of one person.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Go take a shower and I’ll make some dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sorry, but Tawny told me to make you eat.” That was something she’d say. She used to force me when we were younger, too.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Okay.”
He went to the fridge and started assembling ingredients.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled and shook his head.
I slowly pushed the door to my bedroom open with my foot. I waited a second before reaching in and turning on the light. I slowly walked in, my heart pounding the whole time. I glanced in every corner before I completely entered the room.
I grabbed my clothes and shower stuff as quickly as I could and rushed to the bathroom. I took a quick shower, jumping at every single noise. I remembered this feeling well. I’d lived years of my life like this, but it had dulled in the last few. Now it was back full-force, and I was twelve again and throwing up out of fear every day. I’d almost given myself an ulcer. That was when the therapy had started.
I came out and Hunter was busy with tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.
“I made the margherita ones you like, along with the avocado,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re going to eat a damn sandwich and a bowl of soup even if I have to kiss you into submission. Got it?”
“Please don’t touch me.”
“Then eat.”
“I hate you.”
“Nice try. I’m not going anywhere.” He put a sandwich on a plate, cutting it crossways so I could see the mozzarella cheese oozing out. Normally I would have devoured the thing and burned my mouth, but I didn’t want to eat ever again.
He poured a bowl of soup. He’d even added milk to make it creamy.
“Why don’t we have a tray? We need to get a tray,” he muttered.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I finger-combed my hair and waited for him to be done.
“Go sit on the couch.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” I didn’t want him treating me like an invalid. Worse, I didn’t want him treating me like he had to take care of me. That I was some sort of burden. A person he was obligated to take care of.
I went and sat on the recliner instead of the couch and turned the television on, flipping from one channel to the next, not even noticing what was one before I changed it.
“Here we go.” He set a plate and bowl down on the table, pulling it close to the recliner. He handed me a spoon and a napkin.
“I would suggest you eat, but I’m not telling you what to do. Because you don’t want me to,” he said.
“That’s right.”
He got his dinner and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, as far away from me as he could get and still be sitting in the living room.
I found a marathon of romantic comedies, starting with Pretty Woman. Score.
“She has way too many teeth. And no hooker has ever looked like that, I can guarantee you,” Hunter said, sitting back and munching his sandwich.
I ignored him and tried to watch the movie, but I kept jumping at every little sound. My brain had convinced itself that Travis was going to burst through the door any
moment. I kind of wished I had a sharp object, but I’d have to settle for my spoon or the remote. Or Hunter. He’d probably do as a weapon in a pinch.
“Can I get you something?” he said. How about a gun? I’d feel a lot better if I had one. Why oh why hadn’t I gone to the shooting range yet? “Taylor?”
“What?”
“Can I get you anything?” he repeated.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” I snapped.
“Maybe if you would tell me what has got you like this, I will. Until then, I’m watching you like a hawk.” I didn’t like his intense watching but I also didn’t want to be alone. So I was fifty-fifty on having him there.
“I’m fine.”
“Sure.” He got up to take my bowl, and I flinched away from him.
“Aw, Miss. I wish you’d tell me.”
I shook my head, clamping my lips shut.
“You stubborn, stubborn girl.” He took our dishes to the sink and started washing them, humming the dishes song he’d written. I tried to keep my eyes glued to the movie.
I had a habit of getting really cold when I was freaking out and I started shivering uncontrollably, my teeth chattering. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep myself from flying into a million pieces. I’d thought this was over. I never saw the day that he would get out actually coming, but maybe they wouldn’t let him out. Maybe they’d send him back to prison to serve the rest of his time.
But I’d still have to see him. That was what scared me more than anything. That was the thing that I didn’t want to tell anyone. For all my anger and confidence, I was really just a scared twelve-year-old girl inside.
“Here,” Hunter said, coming behind me and putting a blanket over me.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I’m just tucking a blanket in. Get a grip.”
“I said, don’t touch me.”
He came around front, ignoring me and trying to get the blanket all around me.
“Stop it!” I thrashed, but he wouldn’t let go of me. He tried to pick me up, but I was ready for him, landing punches and kicks right and left. His face was blank. Somehow he got me to my feet, and the blanket fell away.
It was like I’d unleashed something dark and violent that had been stirring inside me since that night eight years ago.
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I pounded on his chest. I slapped his face and I kicked him. I kept going until my lungs were heaving and my arms were sore and a strangled sob had escaped my mouth.
He stood with his arms at his sides. His face was red from me slapping him.
My knees caved, and he caught me before I went down, picking me up and putting me on the couch.
“Don’t touch me.”
He didn’t answer, but wrapped his arms around me as I started sobbing. I never cried, but there I was, salty tears streaming down my face, being held by Hunter, the guy I’d just beat the shit out of.
He rocked me, his strong arms encircling me tightly.
He started humming, but I was too wrecked to recognize the tune.
My throat hurt from crying, and my tears were dripping everywhere, but I didn’t care.
I started hyperventilating, and Hunter had to tell me to breathe slowly so I wouldn’t pass out. That had happened before, but he didn’t know that. I’d had episodes like this before, only those times it was Mom and Tawny taking care of me.
Hunter waited until I had mostly cried myself out and was just sniffing. Luckily, he had a spare napkin and I blew my nose.
“Are you okay?” I said.
“That’s my line.”
“I’m sorry for beating you up.”
“It’s okay. You needed to get it out.”
“I haven’t done that in a long time.” I felt his lips on my temple.
“You scared me,” he said.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I’ll be fine.”
“But I won’t.”
He inhaled slowly. “When my parents died, I used to have these freak outs were I’d go nuts and break everything I could. My mother had this collection of crystal animals that was worth thousands of dollars. I smashed every single one. Joe was furious, but what could he do? They ended up taking everything breakable out of the house and moving me to Hope and John’s as soon as possible. They Hunter-proofed the house, but I still found things to break.”
It was my turn.
“They used to have to restrain me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. My mom didn’t have a straitjacket, but she and Tawny used to hold me down,” I said. There was a pause and he started stroking my hair. I settled against his chest. His arms were like cables, holding me in one place. I wasn’t shivering anymore.
I took a deep breath.
“Tawny was supposed to be babysitting. That was before my parents split up, so they were out on a date night. I was twelve, but they didn’t want me staying alone at night for some reason. I can’t remember why. The rule was that she wasn’t supposed to have anyone over, but she invited her boyfriend, Travis, to hang out.” Saying his name was like running razor blades over my tongue, but I had to do this.
“She’d only been dating him for a few weeks, and my parents didn’t like him. It wasn’t that he had a motorcycle or he got in trouble or any of that. He just rubbed them the wrong way, especially my mom. He was older and he had a temper, but he kept it in check most of the time. He was pissed about something that night. Once again, I don’t remember what. Tawny was different around him. When it was just us, we’d do movies and have fun, but when Travis was over, she’d make me go to bed so they could make out on the couch. I got mad at her that night about sending me to bed early, but she yelled at me and Travis backed her up, so I had no choice.”
I took another deep breath. Hunter kept stroking my hair.
“As I was walking back to my bedroom, I saw something sparkly on the floor. It was one of my mother’s peacock earrings. Tawny had borrowed them without asking, and I knew she was wearing one. The other must have fallen out. I was jealous, because I’d never been allowed to wear them, so I went to my room and put it on. I stayed up reading for a while, but then I heard a noise. I got up, and I heard it again. Then there was a scream.”
Hunter’s arms tightened around me, and I gripped onto his shirt.
“I went back to Tawny’s bedroom, and she was screaming while I heard a slapping noise and Travis telling her to shut up. She screamed some more and then I heard him punch her. She was pleading with him. I didn’t know what to do. The door was cracked just a little, and I looked in. He was on top of her and her shirt was torn. He was unzipping his pants and telling her that he’d waited long enough. She was crying and struggling to get out from under him. He slapped her again, and her head flew to the side. We locked eyes and she whispered something. Travis saw her looking, and I couldn’t close the door fast enough.”
I started shaking again, but Hunter wasn’t going to let me go.
“He chased me down the hall and grabbed me. He screamed at me for interrupting them and then said that maybe I wanted some, too. He started ripping at my pants, and I couldn’t breathe because he was so heavy and he was on top of me, and I thought I was going to die. He ripped at my shirt and scratched my chest. I was only wearing leggings, so he tore those and my underwear and went for his pants again, telling me if I ever told anyone about any of it, he’d come and find me and kill me. I prayed for someone to save me and that was when Tawny hit him as hard as she could with her softball bat that she kept under her bed. He collapsed on me, and Tawny had to roll him off. We tied him up with a couple of my jump ropes and some tape and called the police.
There was a trial. He was convicted and got ten years. He’s supposed to be in for two more, but Tawny called and said he’s up for parole.”
I sniffed again, and he handed me the napkin.
“So there. Now you know. The only other person I’ve ever
told was Megan. Everyone in my town knew about it. I got labeled a whore in school, and when I started getting angry and fighting, no one wanted anything to do with me. I made a pact with myself that I would never date, never have a boyfriend. I’d be alone, because the only person I can trust is me. Everyone will let you down. I’d never told Tawny that, but she apologized for years. I think she’s still apologizing, even though she was a victim, too. My parents felt so guilty about leaving that they broke up. I mean, that wasn’t the entire reason, but it had a lot to do with it. Everything just kind of fell apart after that one night. And now you know why I have the peacock obsession. Tawny was wearing one earring and I was wearing the other. Those earrings saved our lives.”
Hunter thought for a moment, and I could almost hear him trying to pick the right words.
“I wish I could kill him in the most slow, painful way possible,” he said.
“Me too.” I’d imagined it more times than I would ever admit.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Now you know why I’m so fucked up.”
“You’re not, that’s the thing. You’ve been through something most people can’t imagine. Don’t be ashamed of the way that you cope with it.”
“I’m not coping with it, according to my therapists. There have been many.”
“Fuck them. If breaking things and punching people every now and then helps you, I’ll be your punching bag and we can get you some stuff to throw off the roof. Deal?”
“Okay.”
“So he’s up for parole?”
“Yeah, there’s a hearing. My lawyer called.”
“But you get to go to it, right? Make a statement?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay then. We’ll just have to get you ready to make a really good statement.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I can’t face him again.” Harder even than telling him the story was telling him that. That I was a coward.
“Yes, you can. You just don’t think you can. There’s a difference.”
“But I couldn’t face him then. He was raping my sister, and I did nothing. I could have gotten the phone; I could have run in and hit him with something. I could have done something,” I said.