Kent sits behind an elevated table at the front of the room alongside a pretty woman with auburn hair and a distinguished-looking man with a mop of dark hair. I recognize them from media reports. They are his attorneys, and I was pleased to see the law firm he interned with over the summer was representing him because it must mean things are good between them.
The male attorney taps the microphone on the table, preparing to address the large assembled crowd. The camera zooms in on the Kennedy family in the front two rows. They are all out in support of Kent. His parents and all his brothers and their spouses. Understandably, none of the children are present. A pang of sorrow slaps me in the face. I should be there supporting him too because I’m sure he’s scared shitless. This can’t have been easy, but I’m so proud of him for doing the right thing. It only makes me love him even more.
Reporters shout questions at his attorney as he leans in to speak. “On behalf of my client, I would ask for complete silence, please.” A deadly hush moves over the room as reporters wait with bated breath for him to continue. “Mr. Kennedy is going to read a pre-prepared statement. He won’t be taking questions. This has been a difficult time for Kent, and his family, and we ask that you respect his privacy.” The man nods at Kent, giving him the floor.
Kent’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he stares directly into the camera; it’s the only subtle hint he’s anxious. He holds himself confidently, his expression betraying none of his nerves. Bowing his head slightly, he clears his throat and begins to read his statement.
“A CDC study found that, in the US, one in seventy-one men had been raped or suffered an attempt within their lifetime.One out of every ten rape victims is male. More than one-quarter of male victims of completed rape experienced their first rape when they were ten years of age or younger.”
He lifts his chin up, staring into the camera. “It is a myth that only gay men are raped.” His jaw pulls tight, and there is a pregnant pause before he lowers his eyes to the page in front of him and continues. “Today, four of the five men who raped and assaulted me when I was only fifteen have been sentenced to life in prison for that crime and other related crimes.”
I’m familiar with the charges as I’ve been avidly following the case. They must have been convicted on all counts—serial rape, attempted murder, and drug and gun offenses.
“This is not just a personal victory for me,” Kent continues, “but a victory for all victims of rape, most notably male victims of rape. Male rape still carries so much stigma in our society, and we need to change that culture. No person, male or female, has the right to force themselves on any other person, and I am grateful to the justice system within the state of Massachusetts for counting rape and sexual assault as one of the gravest felonies and handing down sentences today that carry the weight of that conviction.”
Kent looks up, setting the statement aside as he speaks from the heart. “As a frightened teenager, I told no one what happened to me largely out of fear. Fear of retaliation. Fear of humiliation. And I was so ashamed and confused. I felt weak. I felt like less of a man. I felt like I should have been able to fight them off, but none of those things are true. They took something they had no right to take, and the blame squarely lies on their shoulders. For years, I used alcohol and drugs and sex to mask my pain and as an outlet to reassert control over my life. The men that abused me tried to murder me seven months ago so this story wouldn’t come out. I almost died, and I had a breakdown, but with the support of my loved ones, I am clean and sober and I have taken back control of my life. That gave me the courage to pursue my rapists through the legal system even knowing this story would become public knowledge because of who my family is. I don’t regret it because if my story helps evenone manto come forward and tell his story then I have done the right thing. Then it is worth it.”
The haunted look that used to linger in his gaze is nowhere to be seen as he stares confidently into the camera. “If you have been the victim of rape, I urge you to come forward. To report the crime and to seek out the support that is available. My legal team has set up a temporary support helpline. The number is at the bottom of the screen, and there is an abundance of information about various support groups on their website. I would like to thank my therapist and RAINN for their dedicated support over the past few months and for providing some of the statistics I referred to at the start of my statement.”
His features soften. “I would like to say one final thing before I go.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. “During one of my darkest days, I lashed out at the woman I love. I said things I felt at the time, but they were things I never really believed. Things thataren’ttrue. I understand why you did it,” he adds, speaking directly to me, and my heart stutters in my chest. “I understand how badly you were hurting too, and I wish I could have been there for you. I hope you are okay and that you have found some peace.” He leans forward, and he might as well be in the room with me. “I still love you, and I want you to know I’m ready and waiting. You are the only woman I will ever love, and I haven’t given up on us. I would wait an eternity for you, if that’s what you need.”
A sob rips from my chest before I can stop it. I can barely see the screen through my blurry eyes as the press conference comes to an end and someone switches off the TV.
“Presley.” Pete slides his arm around my shoulders. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“I’m fine.” I swipe at the hot tears coursing down my face. My colleagues glance at me, their expressions a mix of compassion and curiosity. I haven’t told any of them about Kent, for a variety of reasons, although they know circumstances forced me to leave the love of my life behind. They also know I’m from Boston, so I’m sure it won’t take them long to connect the dots.
“Go, sweetheart.” Pete pushes me gently toward the door. “Go do what you need to do.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Kent – Six Months Later
My cell pings in my pocket for the third time in a row, and I put my niece Ciara down on the ground. “Uncle Kent has to take this,” I tell her, trying not to laugh at her cute little pout. “Go play with your cousins.” I nudge her toward the playground where Hewson, Hayley, and her twin brother Cathal are hanging off the climbing frame under the watchful eyes of the babysitter. I am at my parents’ place for the weekend, and Kalvin and Kyler dropped by with their kids. Their wives are at Cheryl’s baby shower today. Keven finally put a bun in her oven, and they are expecting their first child in six weeks.
Removing my phone from the pocket of my shorts, I’m surprised when I see it’s Austen calling me. Things are much better between me and my brother’s husband these days, and my relationship with Keaton is back to what it was. Keats stayed with me the first few months after I left rehab, and it was good to spend that time together.
Keanu and Selena stayed over some nights too, but they couldn’t permanently stay in Cambridge, not with the Moonlight build being at such an advanced stage. I really appreciated how my family came together to help me, especially my triplets and their partners. Eventually, I made Keaton return home. He was a newlywed, after all, and while Austen was cool about it, I knew they were missing each other like crazy.
I hold the phone in my hand, wondering why Austen is calling me now. He has a game tomorrow against the Denver Broncos, and I’m sure he must be at the training facility.
“What’s up?” I ask when I answer my phone.
“Eventually, he answers,” he drawls, and I snicker. Austen has a unique sense of humor.
“Dude, aren’t you at practice?” I ask.
“I’m on my way there right now, but I need to tell you something.”
“Okay. I’ll bite.” I’m more than intrigued.
“I just saw Presley.”
What?That was the last thing I was expecting to come out of his mouth. Butterflies swarm my chest, and my heart does funny little jumps.
“Kent, did you hear me?” Austen says when I don’t respond.
“Where is she?” I ask, quickly checking the time on my watch.
