The minutes dragged by, measured in breaths.
Geno waited until Matthew’s mouth went slack around his little thumb, then carefully set the boy down on the mattress, making a little nest of covers.
Then he shook.
His limbs quaked, his teeth rattled. He shook so hard the bed moved and Matthew stirred in his sleep. Geno slid off the mattress to sit on the floor, arms wrapped tight around his knees. He didn’t sob, but the tears soaked the knees of his jeans.
Cry all you want, baby boy.
“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t do it anymore.”
He waited for Mos to answer but Mos was gone. Sometimes it got so bad, even Mos went away, leaving Geno to fend for himself.
He needed help. He should call Dr. Stein. But how could he, after skipping so many appointments, not returning messages and basically flaking out on therapy? Stein was no doubt pissed at him. He’d give a lecture about commitment to recovery or some bullshit. Geno didn’t have time. He needed help. Now.
He could call Vern. No, Vern was at work. He’d already taken too much time off for Geno.
Zoe? She was working too. She worked so fucking hard. She, too, had already done so much.
Somebody help me. Please.
People had to be out there who could help. He couldn’t be the only one. He knew he wasn’t. The bust of the Mengele Ring was scandalous, front page news because Anthony was one ring in a larger network. Which meant Geno was one of many victims caught in the coils. He wasn’t alone. He couldn’t be.
Nobody’s coming for you, baby boy.
He squeezed his eyes tight. Opened them again and reached for his phone. His shaking fingers typed “rape hotline” into a search box. He added “New Jersey” and scanned the results. His heart smashed a fist against the inside of his chest. His stomach pulled tight like a knot.
Call. Just call. It’s what they do. They wait for people to call and they help.
You can do it.
Again his fingers tapped the screen. The phone trembled as he held it to his ear.
“You’ve reached the Rape Crisis Hotline. My name is Ruby and I’m here to help.”
Geno pressed his teeth together, swallowing hard against the gorge rising in his throat.
“Are you there?” Ruby said. “I’m listening. I want to help.”
Geno pulled in a long breath.
“I know it’s hard,” she said. “Just start with your name, okay? Can you do that?”
His breath held tight against his stomach, Geno managed to push out. “Hi.”
A pause. “Hello.”
“Yeah…um… This is hard.”
“Take your time.” Her voice had changed. The softness had gone out of it. It was measured and cool.
“So I was…raped a couple months ago,” he said, and immediately broke out in a cold sweat. “And I’m having a tough time right now.”
“I see,” Ruby said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Geno panicked. He’d never told anyone what happened. For two months he’d only been in the company of people who knew. He had no story composed. No short and sweet version.
What do I say?
“Well,” he said. “I was at this guy’s house. I mean, I didn’t know him. He was a friend of my brother’s. Not a friend. More like a…”
It was all wrong. He was doing this all wrong. He should hang up.
“More like a what?” Ruby said.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I was over there and they put some shit in my drink. Like they slipped me a roofie and—”
“They who?”
“My brother’s friend. And some other guys that were there. Then it started happening.”
“What started happening.” It wasn’t a question.
“I woke up and I was cuffed to a bed.” The words were picking up steam now. “Men were in the room. Different men and they kept on coming. It went on and on and it wouldn’t stop, and the whole time my brother was watching. They made him watch while I got—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Ruby said. Or rather, she snapped it. Curt and dismissive like a mother fed-up with her child’s bullshit. “I’m not letting you do this. Too many people in the world need legitimate help for me to waste my time.”
Geno’s mouth fell open. “What?”
“You heard me. You’re not the first pervert to call this hotline and jerk off to a twisted story. Call a sex line or a prostitute or something. Or better yet, get a fucking life. Men like you are the reason we need rape hotlines in the first place. You sick piece of shit.”
The line went dead.
Geno’s face was numb as he stared across the room. The phone toppled from his hand and fell with a thud on the carpet.
She didn’t believe him.
Of course not, he heard Anthony laugh. You love it. Come on. Say it.
“I loved it,” Geno said.
He scooped Matthew up and put him back in his crib. The baby whimpered a little in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Geno raised up the side with a soft click and resisted the urge to lay his hand on Matthew’s back.
He loved it too much.