CHAPTER 24
Peter is breathing hard, his hand clutching the wheel. We’re driving away from the college. “Are you hurt?’
My head is against the seat. My eyes are pinched shut. I nod. “My shoulder. I think it’s not in the socket.”
“Hold on a few minutes more, okay? I can fix that. I’ll get you some pain medicine and you can call the cops from my place.” He pulls into the parking lot and he helps me up the stairs. Peter has a cut on his cheek, but he looks pretty good. Me on the other hand, I look like hell.
When he sees me in the light, Peter nearly has a coronary. “You’re bleeding.”
“Most of it is his, not mine. I think I broke his nose with my face.” I rub my forehead. “My head hurts. It feels like my brain is in a vice.” We’re in his apartment. I’m standing in his living room with panic dripping through me. The feelings are still raging through me even though I’m safe.
Peter hands me Advil. I take them and swallow the pills down. Peter explains what he’s going to do to my shoulder because that does seem to be the problem. I tell him to do it. I cry out when it pops back in. “That hurt just as much as pulling it out.” I rub my arm. There are tears in my eyes.
“What happened?” Peter’s hands are on me, gently sliding down my face, my arms. He’s so careful. “What did he do to you? Did he—”
“No,” I breathe. My pulse is finally slowing down. “He said stuff and grabbed me. He didn’t do anything else, besides try and shove me in his truck. All this happened because I wouldn’t just go with him.”
Peter’s fingers touch the ends of my hair. “You fought back. Good girl.” He takes a deep breath and reaches for the phone. “I’ll call it in.”
I take his hands and stop him. “No, don’t.”
Peter looks up at me. “Sidney, you need to report this.”
“Sam didn’t do anything. It was Dean.”
“Sam chose to help the wrong person. You don’t owe him anything.”
“He’s my brother. Peter, please. Let me think about it. I can’t decide right now. Please don’t, not right now.”
He watches me for a moment and nods. “Let me look you over.” He takes my hands and looks at my nails. A few of them are ripped all the way into the nail bed. Peter turns my hands over and looks at my scraped palms. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are filled with remorse. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I could have…” his voice drifts off. Peter shakes his head and turns away. I sit down on the couch. Exhaustion is creeping up on me. Peter goes to the bathroom and comes back with the first aid kit and towels. He’s breathing too hard. Peter doesn’t look at my face. He takes my hands and turns them so the palms are up. His touch makes me feel so much better.
My vision is blurry, but I finally look at his face. The cut on his cheek is deep. It looks like a piece of metal tore the skin away. I look down. Peter’s hands are roughed up, too. There are too many things to say. I want to explain why I said no before. Even if I never saw Dean again, I’d be dealing with this for the rest of my life. “Peter, about earlier…”
“There’s nothing to say. I understand. It’s fine.” He pours peroxide over my cuts and I flinch. His voice is cold, like he doesn’t want to talk about it, so I don’t. I nod. I’m a coward. After a moment, he asks, “Why did they want to take you home?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say anything except that Mom sent them.”
He nods slowly, tending to my other hand. “Do you want to go home?”
I look down at him as if that was the stupidest thing he could have asked. “No, I don’t.”
“Even if it was just your brother?”
I stiffen. “My brother thinks I like rough sex and that I was asking for it. He doesn’t think that Dean hurt me. He doesn’t believe that his friend used me.” My jaw locks. I’m defensive and I don’t know why. I feel like Peter is saying what Dean said. I can’t handle it. “Is that what you think? You think that I liked it, that I wanted it?” My arms are so tense that they jerk out of Peter’s grip. I stand up and walk down the hall, not knowing where I’m going. I want to scream.
Peter’s behind me. His voice is soft, soothing “I know that isn’t true, Sidney. I know. I wish I could change it. I wish I could take away some of your pain. Sometimes, family helps, that’s all. I wanted to make sure you weren’t throwing away your hand to spite your arm.”
I glare at him. “Fuck you.” My entire body is shaking with rage. “You think I don’t know how I feel about this? You think that I haven’t laid there every night since it happened wondering if I did this to myself? If all that shit he said was true? I thought it was. For a long time, I thought I did it, that I led him on. That’s why it kept happening and every time was worse than the last. I let him rape, cut, and burn me. I let him do it over and over again. My parents loved him. They didn’t defend me. My brother didn’t even believe me, so don’t pretend that you know a damn thing about it because you don’t. You have no fucking clue!”
I’m screaming. My hands are clenching into balls at my sides and I can’t stop. I want to stop. I don’t want things to be like this, but my mouth keeps going. Peter’s eyes fall to the floor. He can’t even look at me. I try so hard to stop shaking. My muscles are so tense, so tight. I have to control this. I have to hold myself together, but I can’t. I feel the patches unraveling. I feel the weight of my pain tearing me apart. My bottom lip quivers. I bite it, but it doesn’t stop. A sob bubbles up my throat. I turn away from Peter. I can’t stand this. I can’t stand that he sees this version of me. That’s why I said no. That’s why I turned him away. No matter what I do, this part of me will always be there. I bury my face in my hands and push the tears away.
Peter walks up behind me. His hand touches my shoulder gently. He turns me toward him as he speaks. “I don’t know what you’ve been through. I don’t have a clue. I don’t understand. I can’t even pretend to…”
I stare at his chest, at his bloody shirt. My hand reaches for him before I realize what I’m doing. It laces around his waist and I lean into his chest. Peter’s arms fold around me. He holds me and lets me cry. He lets me mourn everything I’ve lost without making offers to fix something that he can’t. Peter lets me weep a river of tears and holds me close.
Eventually, I notice his heartbeat. I listen to it thumping in his chest. It stills me, steadies me. I press my lips together too many times before asking, “Can I stay here tonight?” I’m afraid he’ll say no. I’m afraid I’ve ruined everything and that he doesn’t want me here anymore.
When he speaks, his voice is soft. “Of course.” His hand strokes the back of my head. Peter holds me until I let go. Then, he gives me towels and turns on the shower. He lays an oversized tee shirt on the bathroom counter. “I don’t really have any women’s clothes, but that should be good enough for tonight.”
I nod and he leaves me alone.