They can both go to hell.
I was stupid not to get Ray Diaz’s number from Zach or sneak a peek at Adam’s burner cell when he wasn’t looking. If I had his number now, I wouldn’t be in this dilemma.
It’s dark as I navigate through campus, mumbling obscenities under my breath and vowing to make all my so-called friends pay.
A man emerges from Randolph Hall, the building on my left, instantly catching my attention. My heart rate speeds up as I recognize him.
Oh, God, no!
Goose bumps the size of melons sprout on my arms as I watch him descend the steps from Mom’s office building, heading toward me. My feet are rooted to the ground, and I want to move, but I’m frozen. The overhead light illuminates his features in perfect clarity, and nausea swirls in my gut. His jet-black hair is threaded with strands of silver now, and his face is more lined than I remember, but the evil glimmer in his eye is still there.
Pain spears me on all sides, and a whimper flies out of my mouth. Tears cascade down my face, yet I’m still rooted to the spot.
The large watch on his wrist sends me traveling back in time, and my silent tears transform to sobs as I relive it again.
The breeze on my legs as he shoved my dress up.
My wide-eyed panic as he clamped a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.
The ripping sound as he tore my panties off me.
His rough fingers as they plundered my most intimate parts, untouched up to that point.
The creepy chills dancing up my spine when he called me swee-heart as if it was an act of intimacy between two loving partners.
The searing-hot pain tearing my insides to shreds as he forced his way inside me, taking what he had no right to.
I double over, clutching my stomach as the worst pain imaginable grips my insides.
It takes a moment to realize he’s staring at me, his eyes shimmering in excitement, as he changes course, diverting from the parking lot toward this very spot.
Impending danger snaps me out of it, forcing my limbs to move, and I’m running, pushing my legs harder and harder as I desperately try to put distance between me and the monster who stole my innocence when I was just fifteen.
At the time, I thought it was a random attack.
That my rapist was a stranger and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But he was around the corner from my house when he attacked me.
And I see now what I didn’t know back then.
This was no random attack.
He was no stranger.
My rapist was my mother’s lover.
He was only there that night because he’d been with her.
If she hadn’t been cheating on my father, if she hadn’t brought her lover into our house, he would not have been in the neighborhood that night, and he wouldn’t have violated me, and ruined me, the way he did.
Another whimper leaves my mouth at the sound of footsteps chasing me, and I push my limbs even further. “You can’t outrun me, swee-heart,” he hollers, his voice sounding way too close for comfort, and I almost have a coronary. Adrenaline courses through my body at an alarming rate, and sweat glues my shirt to my back. I want to look behind me. To see exactly how close he is to me, but I’m afraid of falling, so I keep running, praying someone appears before he catches me.
Because if he gets to me again, I understand this time I won’t come out of it alive.
25
Adam
