Page 101 of Stay
As much as I appreciate the gesture, I untangle myself so I can continue. “Even though I’d requested a room with another hockey player, that didn’t happen. My roommate’s name was Amy. She was really nice, but we didn’t have a lot in common. She liked to party, and I’d always considered myself a serious athlete. I didn’t drink or do drugs. I worked out all the time and was focused on my sport. In the beginning, she’d ask if I wanted to go out, but I always declined the offers. The weekends were for getting caught up on homework. After a while, she stopped asking. When everything started to fall apart, she noticed how stressed out I was and asked if I wanted to go out. Normally, I’d say no, but it felt like my life was imploding. And I needed a break from reality.”
My gaze flicks to the windshield before settling on his again. “I got so wasted. I couldn’t get out of bed until two o’clock the next afternoon.” I shake my head, remembering how hung over I’d been. I’d never had a drop of alcohol, so it hadn’t taken much. “That night was the first time in forever I remember having fun. I wasn’t obsessing about my classes, playing hockey, or my father. Instead of feeling alone, I felt good. So good, that when next Thursday evening rolled around, I went out with Amy and her friends again. And I continued doing that. A few weeks later, I met Nate. He was in a fraternity, and I’d seen him around campus. Up until Nate, I’d never been with anyone.” Heat fills my cheeks. “I’d barely kissed a guy.”
Even though Cole remains silent, tension fills his muscles.
“Nate was my first.” Unable to hold his stare, I drop my gaze to my hands. “Honestly, I don’t remember much about the experience except that it was fast.” I grimace at how awkward and painful it’d felt. “Big surprise, I never heard from him again. There were a few other guys after that. Just random hookups. None of them meant anything, but they dulled the pain and took my mind off everything else that was going on.” Embarrassment heats my cheeks as I stare out the windshield. “I’d get so trashed that I usually couldn’t remember what happened the next morning.”
His shuttered expression scares me more than anything, because I have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. Cole has such an expressive face and he’s always so open with his feelings. That’s no longer the case.
Even though my throat feels as if it is closing up, I continue, needing to get it over with. “I was still going to classes because I thought by some miracle, I’d be able to pull off passing grades.” I shake my head before forcing out a mirthless laugh. What an idiot I’d been.
“I must have been in denial. Hockey, though, was different. Instead of showing up for practice every day, I started blowing it off. My teammates wouldn’t talk to me, but they sure enjoyed talking about me. By that time, rumors were already flying around campus. All the girls on the team knew what was going on, and I’m sure they talked to the coaches about it, but no one bothered to reach out or try to help. I just kept sinking further and further. Toward the end of the semester, I’d missed so many practices that the coach kicked me off the team. I had no idea how to tell my father. I knew he’d be furious.”
Even though Cole’s hands are still on me, I no longer feel connected to him. In the moonlight that filters in through the windows, his expression remains unreadable.
“A few weeks before winter break, my dad called me.” A thin shiver works its way down my spine as I recall that horrible phone call. “My coach had spoken to my parents and filled them in on everything.Everything.That I’d been kicked off the team, was failing my classes, along with all the rumors surrounding the partying. Sheput it all out there without ever saying a word to me.” A bitter laugh escapes from me as I recall the conversation. He’s screamed for fifteen minutes as I silently sobbed on the phone.
“My dad told me that they were picking me up the following weekend since there wasn’t any point to finishing out the semester. In a way, it was a relief that everything was finally out in the open. I didn’t have to pretend anymore. Mentally and emotionally, I shut down. I stopped going to classes altogether and partied instead. It was so much easier to numb the pain. I stayed with a few friends who lived off campus. Just some random guys I’d met through Amy. On the night before my parents picked me up, they threw a huge party. I was drunk out of my mind and went upstairs with some guy. We were fooling around,” unable to hold his gaze, I glance away before forcing out the rest, “and the next thing I remember is that my clothes were off.”
I shake my head as images from that night flash through my head like a slow-motion picture show. “He was stretched out on top of me when the bedroom door opened, and two guys walked in.” I blink as the memories crash over me. “I think they were all friends, but I don’t know. I remember them staring down at me with smiles on their faces.” I suck in a shuddering breath, wishing I could skip the rest. “I didn’t mind screwing around with the guy I was with, but I couldn’t understand what the other two were doing there.”
It's the feel of Cole’s fingers biting into my shoulder that has me snapping out of the daze. “At that point, I just wanted to get dressed and go. The way they were watching us was weird. I remember telling them to leave, but they wouldn’t. And the guy on top of me didn’t seem to care. I tried to push him off me so I could get out of there, but he wouldn’t budge. And then the other two guys grabbed my arms to hold me down. I remember yelling, trying to break loose, but I wasn’t strong enough. One of them covered my mouth with his hand. I bit him and kept screaming for help, but I knew no one would hear me. The party was so loud. Music was blasting, people were laughing and dancing downstairs.”
I’d give anything to wipe that night from my memory.
“I knew they were going to rape me, and that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it,” I whisper.
It took over three months of therapy to stop waking in the middle of the night drenched in a cold sweat, and more than half a year for me to stop flinching when someone laid a hand on me. One touch was all it took for me to be transported back to that bedroom.
My belly roils as I tell him the rest of the story. “The door must have been left open and someone saw what was going on inside. He came in and…” I shake my head because what happened after that is still fuzzy around the edges. “I remember him punching the two guys who were holding me down, and then the guy on top of me was ripped away. Before I could understand what was happening, I was being bundled up in a shirt and carried down the steps. He got me out of the house and took me back to the dorms.” It takes effort to summon the courage to meet his gaze. “The guy who rescued me was Luke.”
Cole’s eyes widen as he releases an unsteady breath.
“He stayed with me until I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. Thankfully, my parents picked me up a couple hours later. I don’t think I could have stayed on campus for another day. Not with what happened. My dad was so angry, he refused to speak with me.” I hunch my shoulders as memories of the uncomfortable drive home flood through me. “I’d never been close with my mom, but I thought, maybe, if I told her what had happened, she’d understand all the pressure I’d been under and could help mend everything with my father. The first thing she did was take me to the doctor so I could get tested for pregnancy and STD’s.” My face heats as another wave of mortification crashes over me.
When I continue, my voice is smaller, thinner, and I just want it over with. I can’t talk about this anymore. “All the tests turned out to be negative. Honestly, I don’t have much to be thankful for, but I am about that. After the dust settled, my parents shipped me off to my grandparents’ house. They were worried about what kind of influence I’d be on my younger sisters.” It’s a bitter memory that still has the power to inflict damage.
When Cole drags another breath into his lungs, something inside me grows colder. His gaze searches mine for a long moment before he pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me. He presses me so close that I have to fight for breath. That’s all it takes for me to burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, baby.” His voice is nothing more than a rough scrape of emotion before he presses a kiss against my hair. “Please don’t cry.”
I’m too far gone to rein it back in. All the anxiety and sadness pours out of me in noisy sobs.
His fingers settle under my chin before lifting it until our gazes lock. “I told you that whatever you had to say wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference, and it doesn’t. I don’t care about the mistakes you made last year. They don’t define you.” He presses a kiss against my lips. “I’m just sorry you felt so alone and had no one to turn to.” Concern flashes in his eyes. “I hate that you were placed in such a dangerous situation.” He tugs me back into the warm circle of his arms. “Thank God Luke found you when he did.”
“I know.” My lips tug down at the corners as I stare beyond the window and into the darkness that surrounds us. Instead of mentioning that Luke showed up at practice tonight or tracked me down on the way to class this afternoon and brushed his lips across my cheek, I remain silent.
Am I being paranoid where Luke is concerned?
I’m not sure.
At some point, I’ll have to sit down with Luke. Even though he swooped in and saved me, the night that binds us together is difficult to rehash. His presence is a constant reminder of what happened.
Of whatalmosthappened.
I can’t imagine what Luke sees when he looks at me. All I know is that every time I catch sight of him, hot waves of humiliation crash over me, threatening to drag me under. He’s tied to the worst night of my life. And seeing him, being around him, reminds me of it.
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