Standing in the bathroom, I look in the door full-length mirror and take in my appearance. The long strapless velvet gown falls down to the floor, clinging to my body in all the right places and highlighting every curve.
However, my favourite part of is what I have hidden underneath―a corset in a lighter shade of violet. It fits perfectly, enhancing my breasts and making them look rounder, fuller. I also have matching panties on with violet garters, going all out.
I twirl around in a circle, trying to keep my eyes on my reflection. I feel sexy, and I know Dean is going to lose his mind when he sees me. I plan to surprise him when we get back from the charity event with my sexy little number, wanting to render him speechless.
Brooke persuaded me to buy the dress even though I was unsure about the amount of cleavage I’d have on display. But it will be worth it to feel this good, all night long. I feel like an independent, strong, professional woman.
My hair is twisted into an up-do with a few loose strands falling around my face. But as sexy as I feel, there’s a reason I’m hiding out in the bathroom. I’m worried about Dean’s reaction. I know he’s going to love it―he’s a man after all―but a deeper part of me fears he’ll make me change.
Reminding myself that he’s not Rick, I leave the confinements of the bathroom and head out in search of Dean.
I find him leaning behind the sofa flicking through channels. Holy shit, my man looks even hotter in a suit. He’s wearing black, trousers that match his black jacket, along with a white crisp shirt with a thin black tie.
Dean is hot in anything he wears, but seeing him looking like a model out of a magazine has my mouth hanging open. I’m pretty sure I’ve drooled a little.
Clearing my throat to gain his attention, he turns around slowly before snapping his head fully around when he sees me, his eyes widening. His slow appraisal has me shifting nervously, twiddling my thumbs.
A few minutes pass with him just staring and not saying a word. I want to tell him to say something, anything, but when I open my mouth, no words come out.
He stalks over to me, and for the first time since he took in my appearance, I look up into his eyes. I gasp when I see the desire burning in them.
I don’t have time to think, move or even comprehend what is about to happen because Dean is on me within seconds. His hands reach around my waist, pushing me backwards until my back is slamming against the wall. Another gasp escapes my lips and my body tingles with awareness and lust.
Lifting my gown, he gently raises it slowly up my legs, the feel of the delicate silk sliding up my legs making me shiver. The sensation is oddly erotic. He picks me up, my legs going around his waist immediately, and I moan from the contact.
“You look so fucking beautiful, Lola. Every guy in that room is going to want what’s mine,” he says gently, his eyes transfixed on my chest.
My body is on fire as he starts raining kisses down my neck and over my swollen breasts that are begging for his attention.
No one has ever treated me this way, like they can’t get enough of me; it’s exotic and such a turn-on.
I gasp when he moves my knickers to the side with his one hand, his other keeping me steady against the wall.
“Oh God! More,” I beg as he runs his fingers through my wet heat.
“My pleasure.” He grins, before inserting two fingers inside me. I moan as my back arches from the sheer pleasure. His skilled fingers assault my sex, pumping in and out while he swipes his thumb over my clit. My stomach tightens and my hips strain, wanting to ride his fingers until I’m coming apart all over them.
“Yes,” I breathe into his neck. My God, he feels so good.
My whole body is burning, more so when he increases his pace. I wither beneath him, bucking my hips as I meet each thrust with my own, pressing down on his fingers. I’m shaking with pleasure, my whole body heating up.
I’m so close!
“I want you to come, love. I want you to come all over my fingers,” he growls.
The minute he uses that dirty mouth of his, I’m screaming his name. I begin to shake from the aftershocks of my orgasm, so lost in the sensation that I don’t hear him undo the zipper on his trousers. Before I know it, he’s inside me, slamming his hard shaft into my sex and pushing me against the wall. I lock my ankles behind his back for support as he drives into me over and over again, hitting the spot that drives me wild.
“God, you’re so sexy. Never….” Thrust! “Been….” Thrust! “This….” Thrust! “Good,” he rasps.
I shatter into a thousand pieces. The room spins, blurring around us as I cling to Dean’s shoulders, waiting for my orgasm to subside.
We’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths when I feel his arousal dripping down my legs.
“I love you,” he says, distracting me, making me forget all about the mess between my thighs.
“I love you too,” I tell him before kissing him. He slowly places me back down on my feet, and my legs shake. He holds me up with one hand while the other smooths out my dress. Once I’m presentable, he tucks himself in and zips up his trousers.
“I take it you like my dress?” I ask sweetly, fighting a grin.
“Yes, I do. You look perfect, baby. You’re stunning and so beautiful it makes me want to take you again. Right here.” He grins, taking a step forward.
“Oh no, you don’t! We need to be at the marquee before the guests arrive. Let me go freshen up so we can get going,” I tell him, fighting myself not to say ‘fuck the event, let’s just go back to bed and make love all night.’
“You spoiled my night,” he pouts, making me giggle.
*** *** ***
“Oh my God, this place looks amazing,” I gush to Lily when we walk up to her. The marquee, which is attached to the bar toilets, and kitchen and so on, is lit up with fairy lights, elegant and magical.
Round tables are scattered everywhere with beautiful rose decorations. Silver and blue balloon arches and towers surround the room, giving it more of an edge. There’s even a champagne fountain in the middle of the room, providing a sophisticated look. I can’t believe they’ve transformed the place to look like this. This morning it was bare, plain, and I was worried they’d never make it charity-event worthy. I was wrong.
“It’s all Pagan.” Lily smiles, taking in Dean and me holding hands, a big grin on her face. “You look beautiful,” she tells me, and I blush.
We’re pretty late thanks to Dean. He couldn’t keep his hands off me, and I ended up having to straighten my hair and make-up out.
“Thank you, so do you.” In her black sequinned dress, she looks ten years younger.
“Oh, this old thing.” She chuckles, waving to her dress.
“I can’t believe there are so many people here already,” I blurt out, then wince when I realise why. “Sorry we’re late. It was Dean’s fault.”
“No worries.” She grins, giving us a knowing look.
“Where’s the DJ?” Dean asks his mom, looking around.
“He’s setting up still. He got stuck in traffic,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “We’ll be starting the auctions soon.”
My eyes are wide as I take in the room. There are business-men everywhere, some with elegant looking women on their arms and some prowling the room like they’re searching for a woman for the night. Everyone looks beautiful, and I’m so proud of Pagan and Lily for pulling this off.
According to Lily, they’ve already raised thirty thousand from ticket sales. With the items being auctioned off, they’ll raise a lot more.
“I’m going to show Lola around and introduce her to a few people,” Dean says, pulling me away from his mom and dad. I give her a smile and a quick wave.
“That was rude,” I playfully scold.
“I want to dance.” He grins, and I’m about to mention there’s no music when Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” starts in the background.
When he pulls me into his arms, I throw my head back and laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re terrible.” I smile up at him.
“I love you.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
“I love you too.” I blush, then place my head on his shoulder, swaying with him to the beautiful melody.
*** *** ***
Throughout the evening I’ve managed to walk around the room a thousand times, Dean introducing me to a million people. Some are nice and polite, but then there are the few I’ve desperately wanted to kick in the balls.
The best part of the night so far has to be the auction. They raised thousands of pounds, more than I expected, and it was overwhelming to be a part of that.
Dean and I arrive at the group of men Lily referred to as pompous asses. They’re also the men who are the main beneficiaries for tonight’s event. It’s the only reason Dean is going over to say hello; otherwise, I think he’d have gladly avoided them like he has since we arrived.
Looking at the men before me, I can tell instantly that they’re filthy rich and arrogant as hell about it. Hell, the second I met their gazes as we walked towards them they all zeroed in on my breasts, staring shamelessly.
It was disrespectful, not only to me but to Dean.
I’m not the only woman they’ve been disrespectful to either. They’ve spoken crudely about the other women around them as if they’re sexual objects and not actual human beings. It’s disgusting and if it weren’t for the fact Dean had to play nice, and I didn’t want to embarrass him, I’d have walked away from them all.
The CEO of their company introduces himself to me while Dean stands a few feet to the side, speaking to another gentleman. We were originally standing together, but the man pulled Dean aside to have a quiet word.
Thankfully they didn’t move too far, but still, I wish I was next to Dean and not in front of this sleaze-ball.
“Hello, Miss Lola. It’s a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman. I’m Jordan Wallace II, CEO and one of the top ten millionaire bachelors in the U.K,” he states proudly, going as far as to place a kiss on each of my cheeks. When he pauses a minute too long, I start to feel uncomfortable, so I pull away, forcing a smile.
I take another step back, putting some much-needed personal space between us. He seems like the sort of man who thinks that introducing himself the way he did will get him what he wants. I’m not going to feed his ego by pretending to find him remotely interesting.
“Right. Nice meeting you,” I mutter before turning to walk towards Dean. I pause, finding him still chatting away, and sigh sadly.
Jordan Wallace II, III or whatever, takes my distraction as a means to step in front of me, blocking my view of Dean. I want to growl and kick him in the shin for being so rude.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks, and I shake my head, holding up my full flute of champagne.
My eyes widen in disgust as he blatantly stares at my breasts, his eyes filled with a sickening lust as he readjusts his junk.
I cringe when I see his obvious erection. Did he just manoeuvre that so it stood out? Ew, that’s so freaking gross!
He catches me off guard while I’m still staring at his junk in horror and my cheeks burn, but not for the reasons he’s most likely conjuring up.
Crap, this is embarrassing.
He ignores the disgust and horror on my face and takes my junk glance as an invitation to step into my personal space. Thankfully, before he can get too close, Pagan shows up, stepping between us with a big grin on her face.
“Lola, Jordan,” she greets, looking at him with distaste. I don’t even care why because at that moment, I want to kiss her.
“Pagan,” he mutters staring at her like he wishes he could make her disappear.
“Hi, how you doing?” I ask, enthusiastically “Tonight has been amazing.” I try to keep my voice bright as I move away from Jordan, ignoring the way his eyes narrow.
“Oh, it’s been a great night, I agree. Don’t you think, Jordan?” she asks him, smiling tightly.
“Yeah,” he says, not interested.
“Anyway… I came over for a reason, Lola. I need a huge favour from you. Can you come help me in the kitchen? We’ve had to get new champagne flutes since some waiter dropped the crate and ended up smashing the three boxes we had left. We need help getting them out,” she says, her eyes pleading.
“Oh no! I’m glad you’ve got replacements,” I tell her sincerely.
I really should thank that waiter. Maybe even tip him for having the perfect timing.
“Yeah, we had some spares in the barn.”
“Okay, well point me in the right direction.” I smile, eager to get out of here.
We manage to move away from Jordan, his presence long forgotten. We don’t even bother saying goodbye or even acknowledge him. Once we’re out of earshot, I turn to her, sagging with relief.
“Thank you so much. You’ve just saved my life,” I say dramatically.
“It’s my pleasure. I saw him eye fucking you from over there.” She points across the room to where she must have been standing before she came over. “I thought I’d rescue you from the pervert whilst Dean is occupied. I swear, that mooch is only talking to Dean so Mr Pervert could make a move on you. I’ve seen it before. Jordan gives me the creeps. He tried it on with me last year, but Sid intervened, thank God. And I’m pretty sure a woman in the bathroom was just talking about him, warning her friend to stay away from him. Make sure you do the same,” she tells me, her nose scrunched up in disgust.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I plan on staying as far away as possible.
“Oh, I plan to. He gives me the heebie-jeebies.” I shudder. “Anyway, where do you need me?”
She giggles, trying to look innocent. “It was just a tactic to get you away from him.”
“Good one.” I laugh, but then a thought occurs to me. “So there’s no issue with the champagne flutes?”
“Oh yeah, the bloody idiot is going to have them taken out of his pay cheque,” she seethes.
“I can help if you want me to. I have nothing else to do, and it would be good to get away from everyone for a bit.”
I don’t want her to think I’m not enjoying myself because I am, but the crowd is becoming too much for me.
“C’mon then, let’s get you to work,” she says, not looking offended in the slightest.
An hour passes by quickly, and when there’s no sign of Grandpa, I start to get worried. He should have been by hours ago to collect the keys for Dean’s place. His flight isn’t even long; it’s twenty minutes at the most, and according to the flight plan he gave me, there were no delays. He hasn’t even called or texted, which isn’t like him.
“Is everything okay?” Dean asks as I look down at my phone.
“Yeah, I was just checking Grandpa’s flight and if he’s called,” I explain.
“He hasn’t called?” Someone walks up to him, asking about his P.I business. “Excuse me for a second,” he tells the bloke. His jaw ticks, looking pissed at being interrupted.
“No, it’s fine. I’m going to go outside and call him, see where he is,” I tell him, moving to leave.
He grabs my arm, stopping me and stepping closer. “I’ll come with you,” he offers.
I look behind him at the man waiting impatiently to talk to him, and sigh. “It’s fine, really. You need to mingle. I’ll only be a few minutes, and then I’ll come back in and find you. Okay?” He looks torn, so I lean up on my toes and kiss him. “I’ll be fine. Five minutes top.”
“Okay, but don’t be long,” he warns before kissing me quickly.
“Promise.” I smile.
I walk through the crowds of people, heading for the entrance. Getting there takes a little longer than I expect and when I step outside, I groan, wishing I’d used my brain to bring a coat along with me. The night air is cold, and I shiver, my teeth chattering. “Jesus,” I mutter, my hot breath puffing out in front of me.
When rubbing my arms doesn’t keep me warm, I begin to walk, needing to keep the blood flowing as I dial my grandpa’s number.
When I look up and realise I’ve reached the back of the marquee, I stop walking and start to pace instead. The music is quieter here, the area darker since there are only a few lanterns hanging from posts. My grandpa answers suddenly, making me jump.
“Hello, this is Dwayne Lawson,” he greets all business like.
“Hi Grandpa, it’s Lola. I was just wondering where you are? I thought you’d be here by now,” I say, worry lacing my tone. It’s not like he could’ve headed straight to Dean’s because he needed to come here first to get the keys. And I know he wouldn’t miss a chance at seeing me, not with everything that’s happened.
“Lola, I’m sorry, doll. I got held up in a meeting and won't be able to make it until tomorrow. Is everything okay?” he asks, sounding distracted.
“Yeah, I was just worried. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“I’m sorry doll. How did your meeting go?”
Although I know he’s genuinely interested, he doesn’t seem like he’s fully with the conversation.
“She said yes.” I grin down the phone, not able to hide the happiness in my voice. My grandpa knew how much I wanted this to work out, and I’m over the moon that it has.
“I’m so happy for you. I’ve managed to look over everything the estate agency gave you, and you’re getting a pretty neat deal there. I’ll have everything ready for you and Brooke to sign by the time I get there tomorrow.”
“I’m really excited. Thank you for doing this for me. What time are you coming tomorrow? Do you need me to pick you up?”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ve still got the loan car booked, so I’ll meet you at Mark and Lily’s. My flight leaves at twelve…,” he says, trailing off.
“Is everything okay? You sound distracted,” I ask, biting my bottom lip.
Someone approaches me from behind. I can hear their clothes rustling in the wind and their heavy footsteps. Not worried because it’s most likely Dean wondering where I am, I don’t bother to turn around.
“Everything is fine. It’s just been a long day. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. Love you,” he says, and again, he sounds like he’s in the middle of something. He almost sounds sad.
“Love you too,” I tell him.
“Okay, see you tomorrow, doll. Night,” he says with more enthusiasm before ending the call. I don’t even have time to say goodbye, and I look down at my phone, wondering what the hell is going on.
Needing to talk to Dean about the weird conversation, I turn around, opening my mouth to say something. Instead of Dean, I find Jordan.
My heart rate picks up, and my feet freeze to the ground. My palms begin to sweat as I take in his wobbly stature. He’s holding a glass of whisky in one hand, the liquid sloshing over the sides as he takes a step towards me. I don’t move quickly enough because before I know it, he’s close enough for me to smell the alcohol on his breath and I dry heave, literally.
“Well, well, well. Look who I’ve found.” He grins, looking like he found a million quid. When he takes another step closer, I take one back. But it only makes him move closer, invading my personal space.
He’s so close. So horribly close.
The alcohol on his breath blows across my face, and I look away, giving him the time to step even closer, his shirt rubbing against my chest. My pulse picks up, and everything in my head screams at me to run, but my feet are still frozen to the ground. Fear is coursing through my body, and I know nothing good is going to come out of him being here.
Snapping out of it, I go to take a step back, but he snakes a hand around my waist, roughly pulling me against his chest. Instinctively, I reach out, palms up, to push him away, but his hold on me is too strong.
When he leans in to me, I think he’s going to kiss me, so I move my head to the side to dodge his advance, still struggling to get free. He uses my dismissal as a challenge and starts kissing my neck, licking and biting until bile rises in my throat and I have to swallow it back down.
“No! No! Get off me,” I cry, trying to push him away as I tremble with fear.
“Feel how hard I am for you. Can you feel it?” he slurs. “I bet you’re wet for me too,” he purrs in my ear, and I gag again, trying to push him away.
My chest is rising and falling, working towards a panic attack. No matter how hard I try to control my breathing, nothing works.
If I get lost in a panic attack, I’ll either pass out or be sick, and both will end up leaving me vulnerable.
My boobs are already bulging out of my dress because of how hard and heavy my breathing is. That’s all the vulnerability I can take at the moment. I just want to get away, to find Dean.
“Let me go now. Please,” I beg, trying to sound confident, but it only comes out weak and pathetic.
Struggling only causes his grip to tighten, nearly cutting off my circulation as my panic increases. I try to wrench free from his hold again, but he’s too strong, even for someone who is clearly drunk.
What is it with me letting men having this control? Why do I find myself in these situations? Am I cursed?
He pushes his erection into my belly whilst keeping up with his assault on my neck no matter how hard I try to wiggle free. Vomit rises in my throat, and I swallow it back down, tasting like acid.
No! I’m not going to let this happen, I scream inwardly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Knowing it’s now or never, I stamp down hard on his foot, making sure to use the heel of my stilettos. He screams in pain and before he has a chance to recover, I bring my knee up to his groin.
I’m momentarily stunned as he falls to the ground holding his junk, proud that I made him crumble to the floor, screaming in agony. Taking the opportunity to run away, I move, but I don’t get far. My split second of hesitation was a second too long, and he manages to recover quicker than I expected, reaching out and grabbing my ankle. I fall to the floor and face-plants in the dirt, my head hitting something hard and rough.
Not letting myself register the pain, knowing it won’t do me any good, I scream as loud as I can. I call Dean’s name out, begging him to come help me, and when that doesn’t work, I simply scream for help.
My throat feels raw and dry, though I don’t let it stop me as I keep trying to scurry away from him on my stomach
If I can get closer to the marquee, then someone will hear me.
Jordan pulls at the end of my dress, and I look down, my eyes connecting with his. I gasp, my eyes widening with fear when I see the dead, predatory look in his. He looks like he’s out for blood reminding me of Jack Torrance from The Shining.
He tugs harder on my dress when I keep kicking out at him and manages to pull it down a little. I stop struggling, not wanting to aid him in removing it. Wiggling is only going to make it easier for him, and I’m not going down without a fight. Not this time. Not again.
He manages to get on top of me, placing his legs on either side of me. He kneels over my legs, pressing them together with his thighs so I can’t kick him, and a frustrated sob escapes me. I can’t move, not with him trapping me beneath him, his hands pinning my wrists in a tight grip.
I scream out as he reaches for me with his free hand, an evil sneer on his face as he rips my dress, right between my breasts. I hear him moan and start to undo the buckle on his belt frantically, his breathing ragged. I begin to thrash harder this time, ignoring his erection pressing against my stomach.
With each move I make, he moans and rubs against me, acting like it’s some sort of sick foreplay.
I try everything I can think of to get him off me, to stop this from happening, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get free of men like him.
“Please, let me go. Get off me.” Frustrated sobs break free as I beg, tears falling down my cheeks.
“You’re a cock tease, dressed like a fucking slut. You’re nothing but a one-night fuck and baby, I promise I’ll make it feel real good,” he snarls, hovering his lips over my mouth.
I pull away, thrashing my head from side to side, wailing for someone to come help me. And for the first time I realise I’m fighting back; no matter what happens now, at least I know I tried. With Rick I never got the chance to fight back, never had that strength, but now I am, and a little hope sparks inside me as adrenaline pumps through my body.
My punching and scratching doesn’t even faze him or slow him down. It’s like I’m not even there; I’m just a mere object getting in the way of what he wants, and he’ll tear me limb from limb to get it.
Closing my eyes, I pray for someone to hear my cries, to come and help me but I never once give up trying to fight.
I gasp for air when Jordan’s weight is lifted off me, a relieved sob breaking free.
My prayers have been answered.
I’m pulled into a warm embrace, but the fear inside me is manifested so deep I don’t know left from right. I begin to scream, my ears ringing from the sound, and instinctively try to break free again. They only hold me tighter, and I’m about to fight back harder when I suck in a lungful of air. Everything stops and I instantly relax into the person holding me when I recognise who it is.
My body sags and a roaring sob breaks free. My voice is hoarse, but it doesn’t stop me from begging for Dean, needing him so much.
“Dean! Stop! Stop!” Lily shouts, and the sound echoes through her chest. “Dean, it’s Lola. She needs you.”
“Dean, Lola needs you,” someone from close by shouts. I swear it was Pagan, but she’s not here. Is she?
My eyes are closed, too scared to open them only to find out that I’m not safe and this was all a figment of my imagination. I don’t want to open my eyes and find Jordan still on top of me, attacking me.
A cold shudder runs through me, and I bury closer to the person holding me.
I’m pulled away from the soothing arms, and for a second I cry out in fear, scared of what’s going to happen, but then I’m in familiar arms. Dean sets me in his lap and time stops because it’s him. It’s really him.
I’d recognise his woodsy scent anywhere, and I cry out with relief, burying my face in his neck and breathing him in.
He rubs his hands up and down my back, soothing me and reminding me that everything is okay, that I’m safe and the police are on their way. He keeps apologising although I’m unsure why. He didn’t do anything, but I’m too shaken up to voice that out loud.
*** *** ***
I don’t know how much time has passed; it could have been hours or minutes before the police arrived. A chair was brought out, and Dean sat me in it, wrapping me up in his suit jacket. Lily and Pagan sat by my side, comforting me. Dean only left my side when a police officer asked to talk to him. I don’t know what they’re talking about; I’ve been in and out since everything happened, not really with it. But now that everything around me is beginning to focus, I listen to what they’re talking about.
“I know this is a difficult time, but we need to know if Miss Lawson was sexually assaulted,” a male officer asks Dean. I watch as Dean’s entire body stiffens the second the officer voices his concern and the air around us thickens, the atmosphere tense.
Dean clears his throat. “I… I don’t know,” he croaks out, and my stomach sinks. I shouldn’t have worn this dress. I should have just stayed at home. Would Dean still want me now that he knows how much of a disaster I am. That I’m a magnet for bad men?
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have dressed like this. He said I was a slut and that I wanted it, but Dean, I promise you I didn’t. I told him no. I kept telling him no,” I rush out, explaining everything in a panicked voice. “I came out here to ring my grandpa because I hadn’t heard from him and when I heard footsteps, I just thought it was you. I got off the phone with Grandpa, and he was there, Dean. I swear, I never encouraged him or led him on, I swear,” I cry. “I’m so sorry, Dean. Please believe me. I didn’t mean for this to happen to me again.”
Pagan shoots up from her seat, and I can feel her eyes burning into me. I duck my head in embarrassment. She probably wants me far away from her brother now. I wouldn’t blame her.
Another sob breaks free as Dean steps forward, taking Pagan’s seat next to me.
“Mom, what does she mean, again?” I hear Pagan ask, and my stomach even lower at how sad she sounds. “Mom! Dad! Someone tell me what the fuck is going on. Please. Who would hurt her?” she cries, sobbing herself.
“Oh, sweetie, come here,” Mark says, bringing his daughter into his arms. My chest aches, longing for my own parents to comfort me.
“Lola, look at me,” Dean says, gently taking my chin and turning me to face him. His jaw is clenched, and I know he’s finding it hard to keep his emotions in check so he doesn’t scare me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, needing him to know that I never meant any of this.
“None of this is your fault, love. What Rick and Jordan did to you isn’t on you. It’s on them. They’re sick fucking bastards. I’m so fucking sorry I wasn’t here for you. I should have been here. I should have protected you like I promised I would. I’ll never forgive myself, but I hope that one day you can, even if I don’t deserve it. I love you so much, and I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, sounding broken. “And by no means of the imagination do you look like a slut. You, my love, look exquisite and dazzlingly beautiful. Please don’t let what that prick said get to you. You’re stronger than that,” he says, believing it, and I give him a watery smile.
“The police need to speak you,” Lily interrupts quietly, gently placing her cold hand against my cheek before stepping away, giving us privacy.
“Thanks Mom,” he replies before she gets too far, giving the usually well-put-together woman a small smile. He turns back to me, taking my hands in his and for the first time, I notice his cracked knuckles caked in dry blood. “Before you talk to the officers, I need to know something.” He swallows and I move my attention away from his knuckles, concentrating on his pained expression.
“What?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
“Did he…? Did he…? God, were you sexually assaulted?” He looks close to breaking.
“No,” I answer, knowing that’s what could have happened had he not saved me. More tears fall, hating myself for being in the situation in the first place. If I had just stayed closer to the entrance then maybe none of this would have happened. God, there’s a lot of ‘what ifs’, but I know deep down if I had done something differently, we wouldn’t be here right now.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he rasps, pulling me into his arms.
My heart hurts watching this strong, confident, self-assured man break in front of me. I try to wrap my head around the fact he’s apologised once again, like this is his fault somehow when it’s not. I’m the one who dressed in next to nothing, showing off my assets. I shouldn’t have worn something so revealing.
“Dean, you have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have dressed like this, revealing so much skin. I’m the one who’s sorry,” I tell him, crying softly. Dean wipes away more tears, but I fall head first into his arms, needing him.
“No, baby, no! Should a young girl who is out clubbing with her friends wear an outfit that covers all of her body just so she doesn’t get attacked? Or should she be able to wear what she wants?” he asks, rubbing my cheek.
“Wear what she wants, but Dean―”
“No! Don’t do this to yourself. Women should be able to wear what they want, how they want without having rapists use what they wear as an excuse for what they do. They do what they do because of power, whether or not you’re wearing something revealing. They’re monsters. You could wear a bikini, and it doesn’t give him the right to attack you,” he tells me, his words splitting my heart wide open.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I sob, falling into his chest as the realisation hits me. I’m not naive to think it was actually my fault, but Dean confirming it helps.
“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby,” he soothes. “C’mon, let’s go talk to the cops so we can get home.”
I nod in agreement and take his hand, letting him lead me over to where the police officers are waiting to talk to me.
I tell the police everything about what happened tonight, from when I left the tent to the last moment I remember before I blacked out―not literally, but mentally.
From what I strained to hear of Dean’s statement earlier, he had found me with my dress torn, revealing my corset, and Jordan in the middle of unbuckling his trousers and pinning me down.
Dean had been looking for me, thinking I’d come back into the marquee, but when he couldn’t find me, he went to walk outside again. When he reached the front entrance, he overheard a woman saying she swore she could hear someone screaming.
After tonight, I’ll fight to my death before I let another man hurt me like this. If tonight has taught me anything, it’s that I don't need to be the victim. I’m not going to let this become who I am, change who I am. I want to be strong, to be the person Dean deserves me to be, but most of all, who I deserve to be. Tonight, I was saved just in time, and I’ll always be thankful to Dean for that, but I need to learn how to fight back better, fight back harder.
Being sexually assaulted by a man I once thought I loved was hard, to the point of breaking, but the thought of being raped by a man I didn’t even know, any man, would have completely ruined me. It would have shattered me in a way that there’d be no recovering from. Not that what Rick did was okay, it wasn’t, but… God, I can’t even think about this anymore. I just want to forget this ever happened.
One good thing did come out of tonight, and that was finding out I’m strong enough to fight back. I believe knowing that will give me more confidence with life and help me move on.