“Then, the gifts started. At first, they were nice gifts from a secret admirer. Perfume. A necklace. But they turned ugly.”
“How ugly?” Rand moves closer to me on the couch.
“Like dead animals and dead flowers ugly.”
Rand blows out a breath. I reach for his hand. He tucks my hand between his.
“I was afraid to go outside. I didn’t go to classes alone. I took a lot of meals in my room. But when the… stuff… stopped arriving at my dorm room, I figured whoever was sending that shit to me moved on to someone else. Eventually, I relaxed. I was able to breathe again.
“My friends were always bugging me to go with them on road trips to other college parties. We received invitations all the time. I begged off most weekends, afraid of being in a dark corner alone, in a strange place. But, this one weekend, I felt relaxed. It was the end of the semester. My grades were good. I said yes. I’d go to the party in a big group. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Dash?” Rand tightens his grip.
I nod. “Dash. He immediately found me when we got to the party. He didn’t attend the school, but there he was. I know now; he probably followed us or listened to our conversations. But, when he found me, he apologized for all the shit that went down in high school. He claimed he made it right with my friend’s brother. I accused him of sending the gifts, which he denied. He acted like he didn’t know a thing about them.”
“Did you believe him?”
I shrug. “Kinda. He’s a sociopath. They can make you believe a lot of things. Even when you know better.”
Rand nods but says nothing else.
“So, when Dash apologizes, he says he wants to make things right with me. And I told him there was nothing to make right. We were square. He wouldn’t let me go until we ‘drank on it.’”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Exactly,” I suck in a breath and let it out slowly through my teeth. “I don’t remember much else after that. People saw him carrying me out of the party over his shoulder and said nothing. One of my friends questioned what was going on, and he acted like I had too much to drink and he was taking me to get some air. He told her he was my high school boyfriend. And she let it go. She didn’t try to talk to me. She didn’t stop him. No one did.”
“Sons of bitches!”
“I woke up in the middle of him raping me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. He was telling me that no one would have me. That my virginity belonged to him. He thought it was hilarious and told me there was - quote - nothing to worry about because he wore a condom.”
“He wore a condom so he wouldn’t get DNA evidence on you,” Rand kicks the couch with the heel of his foot.
“Right. Not that DNA testing was as advanced as it is today. But there would be no semen for a rape kit. Because of his admission, I didn’t think about reporting it. I feel pretty stupid these days because I know they could have tested the… physical tearing.”
Rand winces at this.
I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience, telling the story of what happened back then. “It was a long time before I felt safe around another guy. I refused to let anyone else buy me or bring me a drink that I didn’t watch being made. I began dating shorter men who were about the same size as I was. I figured if they tried to pin me down, I could overpower them. I learned self-defense moves from a former Marine. I trained in martial arts. I became skilled in firearms. Because I never wanted to feel that helpless again.”
Rand puts his arm around me. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
“Not your fault,” I lean into him. It feels nice. It feels right. “The bottom line is, I haven’t had The Sex - willingly. Ever. Every time I’ve come close, the guy ghosts me.”
I shiver, thinking about all of those men losing their lives, possibly because I decided it was the night we’d have sex. Rand rubs my arm.
“And the meds?”
“Ah yes,” I laugh. “Crippling anxiety. It came up in one of my psych evals, and they forced me into therapy. I’ve been seeing the therapist ever since. Her therapy is a little - unconventional - and comes with the meds.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Rand stares at me.
My pulse ticks up. I wait for the tell-tale signs of a panic attack. None come.
I reach out and touch his face. “I’m sorry I knocked you on your ass.”
Rand lets out a barking laugh. “It was a good move I didn’t see coming.”
I flex my muscle. “I told you. I trained with a former Marine. I can flip a man like a cheese omelet!”
