"This isn't your fault.” I grab her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into my eyes. “You hear me? It’s not your fault.”It's his.
As Haven pulls on the last of her clothes, I walk in front of her and open the door, shielding her as much as I can. "Where do you think you’re going?” The mayor asks with a hint of a grin tapering in one corner of his mouth. “You…just raped my daughter." His grin grows wider like no fucking father would do when accusing someone of raping their daughter. "I knew you were just like your dad...born to be a prisoner...am I right?"
"He did not rape me," Haven shrieks from behind me.
Haven’s mother shoves me out of the way, forcing herself into the bedroom that I’m now closed out of. Faintly, I can hear her soothing words to Haven. "Sweetie, it's okay. You're okay now," she says calmly.
"Get off me," I hear Haven fighting back. "I love him. He didn't hurt me. Why do you two live to ruin my life? What did I ever do to you?"
"Haven, control yourself right now," her mother says. "The sheriff is going to be here any minute. Don't you dare embarrass us."
"I didn't rape her," I grunt to the mayor.
He leans forward, bringing his stale breath too close to my face. "Doesn't matter if you forced yourself onto my daughter, Mr. Carson," he says quietly. "It's illegal to have sex with a sixteen-year-old minor. That's grounds for jail time now, isn't it?" What? No.
What? Wait a fucking minute. There’s no way— "She told me she was eighteen months ago," I rebut, making sure to spit in his face.I was there on her fucking birthday.
He stands up, pulling a silk handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing it against the side of his face. "I highly doubt my daughter would tell such a tall tale. You, however," he looks me up and down. "You're an animal. You wouldn't care how old she was now, would you?" I don't know if Haven lied or if he's lying, but it doesn't matter. I'm smart enough to know it won't make a difference no matter what the case. That man runs this town, and even if a lawyer as sleazy as the one he used to be would help a poor fuck like me, Frederick Leigh would pull out all stops. Lying or not, I don't have a chance.
The sheriff barges in and wastes no time before he starts asking questions, getting my side of the story, but it’s all a formality. I don't matter. Frederick Leigh has had an agenda since the day I stood in front of his desk right after Granddad died.
Just as I'm cuffed, I hear a scuffling in the hall, and Haven is wrestling against her parents, screaming things I can’t even understand at this point.
I’m dragged out backward, forced to watch the tears running down Haven's cheeks as she screams and pleads for everyone to stop.
My rights are read to me through a blur of incomprehensible words as the sheriff forcefully pushes my head down while shoving me into the cruiser. The last thing I see is Haven's hand up against her window, crying through a pain of guilt or sympathy. Not sure I'll ever truly know.
