TWENTY-THREE

 

P R E S E N T   D A Y

 

I DON’T GO straight downstairs. I go to the bathroom and splash some cool water on my face, fix my makeup, and try to calm myself down. I think pretty soon I'll be able to compose myself, come across as okay - an act I've learned well - but I need more time and everyone is waiting on me.

So I take a pill.

I guess I won't be drinking tonight. Not that I really wanted to after last night.

When I finally actually feel the numbness I forced myself to feign in front of Sam, I head down to the lobby and meet up with the girls.

I don't want to do this right now. To go out to a fancy restaurant for dinner with a gaggle of girls. But I am glad to be with Carl. Hopefully I can help her resolve her Tuck issues and at least one of us can be happy. And Tina too. I hope she appreciates what she has with Andrew. They really do make a great couple.

We squeeze into two cabs and get to our restaurant twenty minutes late for our reservation. The boys are eating at a steakhouse a few miles away and we're supposed to meet in a couple of hours at a bar less than half a block and across the street from our hotel.

I'm quiet over dinner as Carl talks about Tuck, and Tina and Lily give her the same advice I've been giving her, and like earlier in my room Carl seems more receptive tonight. I start to think she might actually consider having an honest conversation with Tucker about their relationship.

Guilt over Sam surges and quells throughout the night. It's an impossible situation and I've no one to blame but myself. It was my fault for falling in love with him. My feelings are my problem, I've known that, and now he's probably blaming himself for causing me to nearly panic. God, if he knew I took a pill he'd be so disappointed in me, and he'd probably blame himself for that, too.

And what did he do that was so wrong? Ask about Cam? His big crime was simply asking about someone I've mentioned to him several times now. Because I talk to him. Like he said, I tell him things I don't tell anyone else. And he said he loved that. I groan inwardly. I loved hearing him say that.

But why can't I talk to him about Cam? I was so shocked by Sam bringing him up, and so soon after being confronted with the visual of Robin's photo, that I didn't even think about why I couldn't just tell him the truth. I couldn't talk to my mom about him, I couldn't talk to Dr. Schall about him... I guess I'm just so used to not being able to talk about him that I didn't even consider that maybe I could to Sam. I've talked to Sam about plenty I haven't told anyone else.

And he's done nothing but comfort and support me. He's never pitied or judged me. He's even helped me beat triggers. He's always there for me. He's been there for me since the day he found me freaking out outside of calculus. When I was nothing more than a stranger. And what do I do? Throw it back in his face when he asks one reasonable question.

No, Sam has been nothing but wonderful to me. Of course, that's why I fell in love with him in the first place. Even if he doesn't know it, even if he'll never know it.

I give myself a small, secret smile.

In another hour I'll be at the bar and I can apologize to Sam, and if he'll listen to me, and he still wants to know about Cam, I think I can tell him.

Maybe I don't have to give up the something more just yet. Maybe I'll get to feel his arms around me again. Feel his lips caress mine, the weight of him above me. Warmth unfurls within me, and I bite my lip to keep my smile from growing.

But as we all climb back into cabs to head to the bar just over an hour later, my apprehension returns, trickling into the security of the confidence I found during dinner. I can't stop picturing Sam's face when I used our safe word. I can't stop thinking about his reaction.

Seriously?

And I don't blame him. He's one hundred percent in the right. There's something wrong with me. Of course, we both already knew that. But despite how well he's gotten to know me, he could never really understand. How could anyone understand that after everything I've already confided to him, after all the time we've spent together, after being vulnerable and intimate with him, after sleeping in his freaking arms, I couldn't just answer a simple question.

Because it isn't a simple question, not really. Of course, the answer as to where Cam is isn't especially complicated, but it certainly feels complicated.

****

 

The bar is buzzing tonight, full of spring breakers, and an overflow of people spills out onto the sidewalk, smoking cigarettes and chatting drunkenly. We head inside. Most of the girls go straight to order drinks. Carl and Tina go to the bathroom, and I hang back, trying to spot Sam - hoping to have the opportunity to apologize outside of the group setting. I stand just inside the door, scanning the crowd.

Some guy bumps into me and I recoil from the stranger's accidental touch, taking two steps back. He begins to apologize, before conspicuously checking me out. I hold my breath. I know that look - he's about to make some suggestive comment, or hit on me in some juvenile way - so I turn away from him, my body language unmistakable.

Back.Off.

Fortunately, he does, muttering something under his breath I can't quite make out, but I don't care.

Just then, my eyes latch onto Sam. It's just the back of his head I can see over the top of the crowd - thanks to his six plus feet of stature - but I know it's him. I'd know those messy locks anywhere.

I prepare to brave my way through the crowd, a significant endeavor for me - one full of strangers and more potential accidental touches - and in this moment I'm grateful I took a pill earlier. But after just two steps, Sam turns, barely sideways, so I can just make out his profile, but I can see his dimple with utter clarity, indicating his gorgeous smile. I guess he isn't too upset about our earlier row after all. The realization hurts. It's not as if I expected him to be drowning in sorrow, but seeing his wide smile only reminds me that I'm the one with the oversized feelings, not him.

This isn't news, I remind myself.

But then there's a small break in the crowd, and I see where his smile is directed. I'm assaulted with the image of the pretty redhead he has his arm around. I watch as they exchange words, and her resulting smile.

My insides twist, sickness rolling through my gut.

God, I'm pathetic. Here I am, over analyzing every part of our argument, and Sam has already forgotten it ever even occurred. In fact, it would appear he's already seeking out alternative company for tonight. The knowledge hits me like a brutal punch to the stomach, my heart fracturing viciously.

I turn around and push through the faceless bodies, back through the exit as tears prick my eyes.

Was this afternoon always supposed to be a one-time thing? Or is he just moving on because of our argument about Cam?

Maybe that's how this whole thing is supposed to work - that we hook up with each other, but we can also hook up with whoever else we want.

Of course he's allowed to hook up with whoever he wants, why wouldn't he be? I have no claim on Sam, no matter how fiercely my heart wishes otherwise. If only the stupid organ could be as practical as my brain, but it seems that my heart and mind have a severely defective connection - faulty wiring - and they just can't seem to get on the same page.

The torrential ache in my chest just grows more and more potent with every step I take away from Sam and his pretty new companion. I cross the street to get away from the drunken partiers lingering outside of the bar, grateful that the other side of the street is more quiet. I swipe at my cheeks angrily, furious at myself for being unable to stifle my pathetic tears. I just want to order ice cream from room service and cry in private.

I reach the quiet side of the street and start in the direction of our hotel.

"Well hi there, Sleepin' Beauty."

My breath catches in my throat and my heart stops beating. I freeze.

That voice. Those words.

It can't be.

I close my eyes and take a wheezing breath, wondering if it's finally happened - if I've completely lost my mind - because truthfully, that would be preferable to the alternative. But when my eyes open again, he steps out of the shadows.

Robin.

My brain tells my legs to run, tells my vocal chords to scream, but I can't. I can do nothing but stand here and stare in frozen dread.

"I missed you real bad, sweetheart," Robin drawls, taking the few steps that separate us.

I open my mouth and choke in air. But it doesn't fill my lungs. My heart races instead of my legs.

Robin takes two more steps toward me and I retreat until my back hits the brick facade of a closed storefront. I want to scream. I want to run. At the very least, I want to fucking form words! To ask him how the hell he knew I was in Miami, to ask him what he's going to do to me, to beg him to leave me alone. He's violating his restraining order! Doesn't he know that? He could be arrested! He should be arrested!

But I say none of those things, I simply stare at him in terror, my eyes clouded with tears, unblinking and mouth agape. My lungs burn with the need to take a deep breath, but I can't inhale past the dread lodged in my throat. Robin dips his head and I turn my face away and clench my eyes shut.

"I said I missed you real bad, sweetheart," he repeats, his voice oozing with disapproval at my reaction to his presence.

What the hell was he expecting? For me to jump willingly into his arms?

His lips make contact with my cheek, and I cringe, but he just steps forward again until he's right up against me.

I need to get out of here!

I twist away in revulsion, trying and get him to back away, and he lifts his mouth from my face, but doesn't release me.

"I think we've had enough time apart, darlin'. I forgive you for what you did - all those lies you spread about me. I still love you. No matter what. I'll never let you go sweetheart, and I miss you so damn much it's makin' me crazy," he says softly, but his hands grip my upper arms savagely, his fingers digging painfully into my skin.

I inhale a desperate gasping breath and whimper. I close my eyes and count backwards from ten, but Robin crashes his mouth into mine, kissing me brutally. I don't kiss him back, I just close my eyes, boneless, completely and utterly terror stricken.

Ten, nine, eight...

His lips drag down my neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks. And that's what he wants, of course - to mark me. To remind me that no matter what I do, no matter how far away I get, and no matter how much time passes, I will always belong to him in this terrible way. Because even the marks that have healed - they've emotionally scarred me deeper than any physical mark ever could, just as surely as these will tonight.

Please!

Please leave me alone! Please don't touch me! Please let me go!

I beg and plead, but the words remain trapped inside me. I still can't vocalize a single thing.

And then it happens. My mind drifts, just like I programmed it to do. My eyes open, but they don't see. I am elsewhere. I'm not with Cam though. No, right now, my mind has rewound the day. I am not on the quiet side of an otherwise busy street, less than half a block from my hotel as my worst nightmare runs rough hands all over my body and works his vicious mouth down my neck. Instead, I am in Sam's hotel room, smiling and laughing as he touches me, kisses me, and tells me that I make him feel like the god I know him to be.

And then he's there. Not just in my mind, but in my reality. Sam has exited the bar across the street and looks around, seemingly searching for something, or someone.

"I missed you so fuckin' much, sweetheart," Robin growls, but I barely even hear him.

Sam finds me, and our eyes lock.

Thank you, God.

I can't move, I can't scream, I can't do anything at all, but stare at Sam's horrified expression and wait for him to help me. I'm past my desperation to keep Sam out of my troubles for his own protection. I've gone into survival mode, and I need Sam to save me from my monster. To be my hero - my knight in shining armor - and drag me out of this hell.

But he doesn't run over. Instead, his features screw up into a disgusted scowl and his head shakes once in disapproval before he turns and walks right back into the bar.

I gasp. He's not going to help me.

It finally registers that Sam didn't recognize Robin by the back of his freaking head. And why would he? He's seen his photo on Facebook once. From the look on his face, one thing is clear - Sam is disgusted with me. He thinks I am here - in this monster's arms - by choice.

It snaps me back to reality.

"Please stop," I croak.

Robin startles, his face lifting in consternation as he meets my eyes. "You think you have the right to tell me to stop? After everything you put me through?! When will you get it through your pretty fuckin' head? You're mine!" he hisses through clenched teeth, shoving me back into the wall, and smashes his lips against mine.

No!

I push at his chest with all of my strength. He's too big and strong for me to get free, but his mouth releases mine. I take the opportunity to take a deep, somewhat steadying breath.

"Please leave me alone, Robin! You're not allowed to be within-"

"Don't you quote that fuckin' restrainin' order at me! That thing is your fuckin' fault!" he snarls. His enormous hand covers my mouth and then I'm being grabbed and shoved, and before I can even register what's happening, I'm practically thrown into an empty alley - presumably where he'd been hiding in the first place. My bag is lost somewhere in the struggle, and I worry I'll need my pills, but my worry is cut short, I have bigger things to deal with right now, literally.

Robin is on me instantly. Fight sparks in my chest and pumps throughout my limbs. I shove and twist in my struggle for freedom, but he's as immovable as ever. Excitement flashes in his eyes and I remember - he likes the fighting. I start sobbing defeatedly.

How is this happening right now? How are we here?

"Why do you always have to make everything so damn hard?! Don't you know how much I fuckin' love you?! Damn it!" he barks. His eyes fall closed and he takes a few deep breaths to calm himself.

I blink at him through my tears, stunned with fear, helpless and waiting.

Robin's eyes open, intently serious. "When your daddy told me you were comin' down here, I figured it was time to stop this bullshit. I mean, you came to Florida, sweetheart, haven't you been missin' me?" he asks carefully. And I know what he wants to hear. I know the right answer. But I can't give it to him. I can't give him even the smallest thread to start pulling, the ammo to say that I asked for it, that I wanted him.

"No."

I watch the outrage draw over his face.

"No. Rob, we broke up. I ain't yours. You hurt me! You raped me!" I say the words I was never before able to say, never directly to his face. "Please let me go. Please! If you ever loved me at all, just let me go. I won't even tell anyone you were here. I won't get you in trouble. Just please don't hurt me!" I beg him. I plead with my words and with my eyes, and for a moment, I can't be sure if I'm reaching him or not.

But then his eyes narrow, and the Robin I know is clear and present.

"You ain't mine?! You crazy bitch! I hurt you?! How fuckin' dare you! Everything I ever did was because you wanted me to!"

"No!" I cry, but his hands are everywhere. He forces his forearm over my mouth so I can't cry out again, his free hand pawing under my skirt.

No. No fucking way! I snap back into action.

I bring my knee up to his groin, but Robin twists, and the contact is mitigated. Still, he grunts in pain, and I seize the opportunity. I wrench from his grip and spin away from the wall, but Robin has a hold of my wrist and he tugs hard, slamming me back into the bricks. I cry out in pain as the side of my face meets the rough, hard surface. My vision blurs, but only for a moment, and I don't have time to recover. I try to twist away again, but my wrist is still caught in the vise of Robin's grip.

Forty feet away I catch Sam rushing past the alley. I know it's him, I'd know that hurried gait anywhere.

I scream. "Sa-!"

But Robin's hand shoots over my mouth and the other yanks my hair, stinging my scalp with searing pain. He forces my head back until I'm staring up into hazel eyes burning with contempt.

"Sam?" he spits.

My eyes flash with panic that he heard what I screamed, and I know Robin can see it.

"Is that the loser you've been followin' around like a stupid fuckin' puppy?" he snarls.

Holy shit, he's been following me! For how long? Days?

My pulse passes the speed limit as terror squeezes my chest. Robin removes his hand from my face, but the one in my hair only tightens as he begins what is surely meant to be a sensual caress under my skirt. I twist and squirm, but his six foot frame cages me in, and he bunches my skirt up around my waist.

I suck in gasping breaths, but they don't reach my lungs, and a cold sweat rushes my entire body. But I can't succumb to panic. Because that would leave me totally helpless.

What if I pass out? What will he do to me then?!

"P-please, Rob... I need... my... medi... cation," I choke out.

Robin scowls. "Right, your panic attack bullshit. Anything for a little attention, huh, Sleepin' Beauty? You'll be fine. You're with your man; I'll take care of you."

My eyes fall closed and tears stream down my face. I have no other choice. Every ounce of my energy is focused on trying to control my breathing. I cringe as Robin's callused fingers find the scar he gave me barely a year ago, and my eyes fly open to find him smirking in satisfaction.

"It scarred," he breathes in appreciation. "See, Rory? You'll always be mine. My mark is here to remind you in case you ever forget again." He follows the jagged line of scar tissue, dipping his fingers into my panties.

"P-please, don't," I beg once more.

"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone else seen my mark? This Sam?" he asks, deceptively calm, but I know the threat is there. "Did you fuck him?" he asks. "Even though you belong to me?"

I know I should deny it, but I don't care. "Yes!" I scream defiantly. I know he'll probably kill me now - beat me to death or strangle me - but if I lied he would've just raped me anyway, and I'd rather be dead than have him inside my body even one. more. fucking. time.

"You fuckin' whore!" Robin thunders and he grabs me by my throat and slams me back into the wall, the unforgiving brick a fierce weapon. The force steals the air from my body and my head swims with fog as I stumble to find my footing.

But it doesn't matter, my feet leave the ground anyway as Robin's hand tightens around my neck, choking away any air I had left. My eyes spring open in renewed terror as I realize that, yes, he really is going to kill me, and as his free hand frantically rips at my panties, I realize he's going to rape me one last time as he does.

And then he's off of me. I'm released so suddenly that I can't catch my footing and I stagger to the floor. A whirlwind of commotion unleashes in front of me. Someone else is here. Grunts and muttered curses barrage the air, but it takes me a moment to understand that the second man is Sam, and that he and Robin are fighting.

"Tuck, over here!" Sam calls out behind him as he lands a solid punch to Robin's jaw. While he's off balance from the hit, Sam kicks out his leg and Robin falls to the ground.

Sam lunges on top of him, landing punch after brutal punch. I still can't move, I simply look on in horror, knowing I should stop Sam before he kills Robin, but unable to bring myself to help a man who I believe with all my heart was about to kill me, and who was certainly about to rape me.

Suddenly more people flock into the alley, but still I can't get up, I can't even move. I can just make out Tucker in front, holding back whoever is behind him.

Tuck barks some order about watching the girls before racing down the alley toward us. I don't meet his gaze. I'm too ashamed. And when Tuck approaches me, I whimper, irrationally cowering against the wall, hugging my knees to my chest. I don't raise my eyes above his waist, but I can sense his hesitation in his stance, at a loss for what to do with me. I can only imagine what he must think of me right now, and I see him change direction to where Sam hovers over a barely conscious Robin just five or so feet away.

"What the actual fuck?" Tucker demands.

"He attacked Rory," Sam says simply. "Keep him down. He doesn't get up," he orders, his voice tremulous and deathly serious, betraying his barely contained rage.

Sam approaches me cautiously, crouching down so that we're eye to eye. I meet his midnight blues and despite their devastation, I feel immediate relief.

I'm safe.

My arms fling around his neck as I fall onto my knees, launching myself into his arms. Sam catches me, squeezing tight. Safe.

"He found me," I sob over and over, unable to elaborate, drenching Sam in my tears. "I don't know how, but he found me, he found me..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," Sam repeats on loop. What he's sorry for, I can't imagine, but I can't break my rambling sobs to ask him. I just bury my face in his shirt and cry.

I draw strength from the innate security of Sam's embrace, and try to get ahold of myself. I lift my head to find him watching me cautiously. Robin lays on the ground, bloodied but awake, with Tucker's shoe pressed atop his neck in warning. No one else is in the alley, but I suspect the rest of our group is lingering just out of sight.

Sam looks me over, cupping my face and tracing his thumb over the place where my cheek hit brick. He winces with me when he touches what will surely be an ugly bruise.

"I'm sorry," he whispers again. He proceeds to lift each of my arms in turn to search for injuries, but I only have some scrapes and bruises. I've had far worse.

His gaze continues down, and he reaches for my skirt and pulls it over my thighs. I didn't even realize I was sitting here, completely indecent. Sam completes his inspection and his eyes return to mine. Guilt stains each of his features, as if he's the one who attacked me and not Robin. "Tell me you're okay," he pleads.

I nod. "I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry, Ror. I'm such a fucking idiot. I came outside to look for you and... I saw you with him, but I didn't realize- I just thought you were with some guy and I just..." He rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm so fucking sorry."

I want to ask him why he's sorry, to absolve him of his unearned guilt, but I'm too shaken to form a comprehensive thought, let alone speak again. Before I can form a response, Sam slides his arm under my thighs and I'm scooped up from the ground.

"Some guy?! I'm her fuckin' boyfriend!" Robin growls belligerently from the ground. "You're fuckin' mine Rory! You hear me, you-"

Tuck digs his shoe into Robin's throat, turning his rant into nothing but a strangled choking sound. Sam stiffens and I tighten my hold on him. I feel in each of his tensed muscles that he wants nothing more than to punish Robin for his claim - to resume his brutal beating. But he manages to compose himself.

"I'll be right back," he tells Tuck. "Keep him down."

Tuck nods once before his eyes meet mine, his brow furrowing in concern. I avert my gaze in shame. I hate the way my old and new lives have collided tonight. Sam is one thing. I wanted him to know, to confide in him. It was my choice. But now Tuck heard Robin say he was my boyfriend. Oh God, and my pitiful rambling! It doesn't take a genius to figure out what  just went down in this God forsaken alley, and Tucker's no idiot.

I cringe when I picture myself cowering against the wall with my skirt around my hips and a nasty, tell-tale bruise right on my cheek. No wonder Tuck is looking at me with such pity. I am pitiful. I'm vaguely thankful he had the foresight to ensure the rest of  the group stayed back from the alley, but I know it won't stop the story from spreading for long.

"I can- uh, walk," I murmur to Sam. I can tell he disapproves, and the truth is I don't want to be anywhere but his arms, but he places me gently on my feet anyway.  

Sam wordlessly firms his palm on the small of my back for support, and I'm grateful for the contact. When we reach the entrance to the alley, I'm relieved to see that only Carl, Dave, Tina, and Andrew remain. I look only at Carl, too mortified to see the others' faces right now. She is stricken with worry. She immediately grabs me and hugs me fiercely.

"My God, Rory! What happened? Where did you go? What' going on? Where's Tuck?! No one will tell me anything!" she rants. I say nothing, do nothing, but hug her back.

"Call the cops. Tell them you need to report an assault. Then stay here with the girls, and make sure one of you lets me know as soon as you hear a siren, okay?" Sam instructs Andrew and Dave before he looks to Carl. "You got her?" he asks carefully. I feel her nod against my shoulder.

He starts to leave, to go back to the alley, and I pull out of Carl's embrace.

"Wait! Where are you goin'?" I ask desperately.

Sam looks as if he's the one in pain when he meets my eyes. "Please just stay here with Carl. Okay, baby? Please."

I nod, and Sam stalks purposefully back into the alley. I know Carl wants to ask more questions, but she won't in front of anyone else, so she just asks after Tuck again.

"I don't know!" I cry. "He came after me! And then Sam saved me, and then Tuck was there, and now they're all there, and I don't know what's happening!" My chest is tight with frustration, starving for some semblance of control, and all I really want is to be back in Sam's arms, to apologize for our earlier fight, to beg him to forgive me.

****

 

The sirens sound and the rest of the night is a blur of activity.

Robin is arrested in front of everyone, but because of the beating he took from Sam, and probably Tuck too, he's taken away in an ambulance instead of a police car.

I'm treated for my scrapes and scratches in the back of another ambulance while I relay the events of the evening to a female detective. Someone scrapes under my fingernails, takes photos, and asks me technical questions about the attack, and I'm glad no one I know is close enough to hear me. Andy took Tina back to the hotel at Sam's insistence, Tuck and Carl talk to a second detective, and although Sam stands with them, he doesn't take his eyes off of me.

I'm released from the ambulance with an appointment to go into the local precinct tomorrow afternoon, and the detective moves on to Sam, so I follow her, hanging back with Carl and Tuck who have finished making their statements.

I listen to Sam explain how when he saw my friends had entered the bar, he'd asked after me, but no one knew where I was - they thought I was right behind them. He went outside to look for me, but when he saw me in Robin's arms, he didn't recognize him, and he just thought I'd met a guy. He says he returned to the bar, but after a minute or so, he realized it didn't make sense - that something was wrong - so he gestured to Tucker to follow him outside, and started back to where he'd seen me and continued in the direction of the hotel.

"How did you realize something was wrong?" Detective Mora asks.  

Sam chews the inside of his cheek and frowns. "Rory would never just go off with some random guy. I should've realized it right away, but I was just- distracted, I guess."

"Distracted by what?" Mora asks, and I can't help but recall the pretty redhead he had his arm around earlier.

Sam hesitates before answering. "Jealousy."

Detective Mora nods in understanding and I'm suddenly utterly riveted by Sam's account of what happened. I'm vaguely aware of Carl taking the direction of Sam's statement as her cue to lead Tuck a little further down the sidewalk, so they are no longer listening, but I don't move. I'm not even sure if Sam knows I'm there, hanging on his every word.

"I see. But how did you know Miss Pine didn't just decide to engage with a stranger? Plenty of young girls use spring break as an excuse to engage in activities that would otherwise be out of character for them."  

Sam runs his teeth over his bottom lip, but his eye contact with the detective doesn't waver. "Not Rory," he says simply.

"How can you be certain?" Mora presses him.

"Because I know her. She has a history that... affected her... in certain ways. And one of those ways is that she doesn't like being touched, not even by her friends for the most part, and definitely not by strangers." Of course, Detective Mora already knows this from my own statement and the medical history I gave to the EMT. Sam closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head. "But honestly, even if that wasn't the case, she still wouldn't do that, spring break or not," he adds definitively, and my heart twists in my chest at his faith in me.

"Okay, let's rewind a bit. When you exited the bar for the second time, what did you do?" Mora asks.

"Like I said, I looked for Rory where I'd last seen her, but she wasn't there. I just shouted at Tuck to find her and took off across the street in that direction and then started toward the hotel since it's just down there," he points in the direction of our hotel. "But I heard her scream and I... I panicked, I couldn't find her-"

"You heard her scream? How did you know it was Miss Pine?" the detective cuts him off.

Sam's brow furrows, he rakes his fingers through his hair and his stress is palpable. "I... I don't know. I know her voice, I guess... and I already thought she was in trouble... and I was pretty sure she'd said 'Sam'-"

"Which would be you," she interrupts again.

Sam nods. "Yeah."

"So then what did you do?"

Sam takes a calming breath, it would seem he needs it. Then, he starts to explain how he thought my scream had come from behind him so he turned back in the direction he'd come from, but no one was there. Tuck had followed him out, and apparently the rest of our group realized something was up and had followed as well because Sam noticed them across the street, standing around outside the bar in consternation.

"What were your other friends doing at this time?" Mora asks.

Sam shrugs. "I don't know. I just barely noticed they'd come outside. I was busy," he says irritably.

"Busy looking for Miss Pine?"

Sam scowls in exasperation, clearly annoyed by the detective's thoroughness, at her stating the obvious. I can't say I blame him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Caplan, but I need to ensure that I understand the details correctly. It's my job," she says apologetically.

Sam sighs in acceptance. "Yes, I was looking for Rory. I pointed down the street, in the opposite direction, for Tuck to run ahead of me, and I ran after him. But then I noticed the alley and I just... stopped. I heard them, and it was dark, but I could make out figures, and-"

"You say you heard them?"

"I heard Rory shout 'yes'. She sounded, like, distressed, and then a man's voice said something and I ran to them-"

"Could you understand what the male voice said?" the detective interrupts again.

Sam's hesitation tells me he heard exactly what Robin's awful words were. Sam nods and the detective raises her eyebrows expectantly. "He called her a 'fucking whore'," he says quietly. Detective Mora bristles in place in obvious discomfort at hearing Robin's vitriol, and I wonder what the hell she expected to hear when she came to investigate what she referred to as an "attempted sexual assault".

"What happened next?" she prompts.

"He had her up against the wall, holding her by her neck," Sam grits out. His fingers rake through his hair again and he bites his lip harshly before taking a deep breath. "He had her skirt hiked up, and he was... hurting her. As soon as I reached them I pulled him off her and he swung at me. We fought. Eventually I got him down, Tuck came over and kept an eye on him while I helped Rory and we called the police, and that was it," he says with a shrug.

"By 'Tuck', you mean Tucker Green, correct?"

Sam nods.

"Let's just back up a moment, Mr. Caplan. When you reached Mr. Forbes and Miss Pine, did you recognize him?"

"Yes. I'd seen his Facebook photo," Sam replies.

"You say he was hurting her. Can you elaborate?" the detective presses.

Sam swallows audibly. "Like I said," he says carefully, "he had her up against the wall by her throat. He was fucking strangling her... She looked so fucking scared," his voice breaks. His head drops, his eyes close and he rubs his face with his palm.

I just stand there, mesmerized by how affected Sam is by the night's events. The realization of what he went through tonight - from thinking I would hook up with some random guy, to searching for me frantically... to finding me in that fucking alley, being attacked, God, and fighting for me - it washes over me in a tidal wave of grief. I hate that he saw me like that - so helpless and frightened. I feel so pathetic.

This is what Robin does to me, how he makes me feel - that I have no control in my own fate. That I only matter, only exist, in reference to him. My father's words forge their way back through my mind unbidden, reminding me that I am nothing but a small-town girl, common and unimportant. Worthless.

But Sam, he has the opposite effect. He cares about me. To him, I matter. And with every selfless gesture of friendship, of affection, Sam has managed the impossible - to revive a sense of self-worth Robin - and my own father - spent so much time obliterating. The realization calms me, even as it overwhelms me with emotion.

I blink back tears as Sam continues his statement, "I knew what he was going to do-"

"And what is that?"

Sam lifts his head and glares intently at the detective. "Rape her."

"And just to be completely clear, you knew this because he had her skirt hiked up?"

"He was trying to get her fucking underwear down and hold her legs apart. And he'd done it before. Several times. He's obsessed with her."

"Miss Pine told you this?"

"She told me about the- uh, assaults, and about their history. She didn't say he was obsessed with her. That's my own conclusion."

Sam finally notices me in his peripheral, staring at him in awe, and we lock eyes.

"So you pulled Mr. Forbes off of her," Detective Mora prompts, but Sam just continues to stare at me with profound emotion. I wrap my arms around myself protectively, still feeling so vulnerable, and I can't help but wish they were his arms instead of my own.

"Mr. Caplan?"

Sam blinks and returns his gaze to the detective.

"So you pulled him off of her," she repeats.

"Yeah. We fought until he was down, Tuck found us and held our friends back, told them to call the police, which they did."

Detective Mora glares at him for a few moments as if she's trying to decide whether or not she wants to say something. Finally her eyes narrow slightly. "So after you helped Miss Pine from the alley, did you return to Mr. Forbes?"

Sam nods. "Tuck and I made sure he didn't get up. I didn't want him to come after Rory again."

"That's all? You just held him down and waited for the authorities to arrive?"

Sam considers this a moment, and then nods.

I am literally shaking with anxiety. But not for myself - for Sam. I don't have to have seen what happened at that point in the alley to know that Sam and Tuck didn't simply wait for the police to arrive, I'd have known that even if he hadn't ensured they'd be warned as soon as anyone heard sirens. I saw the look on his face, and just like Cam, I know he couldn't just let the police handle Robin without at least getting in a few more good hits.

I'm just glad Sam didn't kill him. That he's not in jail right now. The last thing I'd ever want is for Sam to get in trouble because of me and my past. Sam looks over at me again, as if now that he's realized I'm here, he can't keep his eyes off of me for long. Part of him is probably irrationally worried that Robin will come out from nowhere again and attack me. Part of me certainly is.

Detective Mora, obviously annoyed at Sam's distraction, follows his gaze. "Miss Pine, I have a few more questions for Mr. Caplan, and you've had a long night. You can go back to your hotel now; get some rest."

Carl must overhear this because she's at my side almost immediately. She puts her arm around me and suggests I come back to the hotel with her, offering that Tuck stay with Sam. I'm too overwhelmed to think anymore, and even though every cell in my body wants to stay with Sam myself, I let her lead me back to the hotel. Sam doesn't say a word to me as I leave. In fact, I realize, he hasn't said a word to me since he begged me to stay with Carl outside the alley.

****

 

Carl walks me to my room without a word. She follows me inside and sits on the sofa while I change. I head into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth, trying desperately to rid my mouth of Robin's rancid taste. It won't do; I'll need a shower. I'll need to rigorously scrub every part of my body Robin touched, but it will have to wait for now.

Finally, I join Carl on the sofa.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly.

I shrug. "Yes, no... I will be. I've been through worse." I explain to her a little about Robin, though I don't offer many details. I just say that he's my ex and that he used to hurt me, including forcing me into sex. Her eyes fall to my hip, and I know she's making the connection to my scar, but she doesn't press me to elaborate and I'm grateful. I give Carl the okay to tell Tuck the truth since he's probably figured some of it out already and, frankly, he deserves it after helping me. Carl swears that she and Tuck won't tell a soul, that they'll tell the rest of the group that some stranger attacked me, and that Robin and our sordid past doesn't have to follow me back to Port Woodmere. I want so desperately to believe her.

"Where did you go? I mean, you came into the bar with us. I saw you. But when I got back from the bathroom you weren't there. Cap asked where you were and no one had seen you since you walked in, and he kinda freaked. He yelled at me for leaving you alone and ran out the door. But then he came back in a couple minutes later and he seemed even more pissed off and before I know it, Tuck is following him back outside and we all kinda followed Tuck."

"I- well, I left." I take a deep, calming breath. "Sam and I had a fight earlier, right before we left for dinner. It was why I was late comin' down," I explain. "The whole thing was my fault. I was just bein' stupid. So when we got to the bar, I was lookin' for him to apologize. But then when I saw him he had his arm around some girl, and he was laughin' with her and smilin', and... I don't know, I just couldn't handle it. I know we're not, like, together and he doesn't owe me anything... But we'd just hooked up a few hours ago, you know?"

Carl furrows her brow. "He had his arm around a girl?" She's in disbelief. Yeah, so was I.

"Yep," I confirm. "And she was pretty, too. A redhead."

Carl's eyebrows shoot up and her jaw drops, and I just stare at her blankly. "Shit, Rory! That was Thea, Cap's cousin."

Now I'm sure my stunned expression mirrors hers. I am so freaking stupid. I drop my face into my hands in embarrassment, and Carl's hand soothes up and down my arm in consolation.

"Well, obviously I didn't know it was Thea, and bein' the psycho jealous bitch that I apparently am, I left. I was gonna text you when I got to the hotel. I mean, it was right there. But Robin came out of nowhere and I just... froze." I don't give the details I had to give the detective. I just tell her how Robin pulled me into the alley and was all over me. That I tried to fight him off, but he was rough and pushed me around, and then Sam came and pulled him off of me.

When I finish speaking, Carl hugs me again for a long time. When she pulls away, honestly, I do feel a little better.  

"Do you want a distraction?" she asks.  

"Depends," I say warily.

"You'll like it," she assures me with a smirk, so I agree. "Tuck and I are officially together," she says, and I actually squeal with happiness for her.

"Really? That's amazing! You have no idea how happy I am for you, Carl! How did that happen?" I ramble, thrilled that after the awful night I've endured, at least one good thing has come of it.

"Well, you know, when Tuck and Cap were in that alley and I was with you, I was crazy worried about him. I thought I was going to lose my mind - I didn't know if he was hurt, or what. After the cops got there and he came out, I literally jumped on him and started crying. I have no idea what got into me, but I just hugged him so hard and it just came out. I told him how worried I'd been and that I love him and he said he loves me too! Can you believe it?"

"Uh, yeah," I say sarcastically. Of course I can believe it, I've been telling her this for months.

Carl rolls her eyes at me. "Well anyway, he kissed me and we talked, you know, while you guys were giving your statements and everything, and... you were right, he was just worried I'd freak out if I knew how he felt, and I admitted the same, and, well... we're together!" she says excitedly, and I grin widely. I'm truly ecstatic for her and I tell her so.

Carl offers to stay with me tonight, but I'd just keep her awake with my nightmares if I ever did manage to fall asleep, and anyway, I still want to apologize to Sam. And to thank him. And I know I'll feel unsettled and restless until I do. Carl is reluctant to leave me alone, but when she gets Tuck's text informing her that Sam is done with his statement and they're both heading back to the hotel, I insist that I'll be fine and that I still want to talk to Sam tonight anyway. Carl texts Tuck to meet her at my room and she stays with me and we talk until he knocks on my door.

I walk Carl to my door and hug her fiercely. She'll never know how much I appreciate her, how much I value the sincerity of our friendship.

When she steps outside, Tuck grabs her and kisses her hard on the mouth and I blush. Their PDA is usually more lustful than affectionate.

"I missed you," Carl whispers timidly, completely out of character, especially for how she usually interacts with Tuck.

Tuck smiles. "Me too, princess," he admits, and I can't help but smile at what a difference a day makes. Tuck turns to me. "You okay, Rory?" he asks.

I shrug, but nod. I don't know how to react to this serious version of Tuck.  

"Cap's really beating himself up over what happened."

"But it's not his fault," I argue.

"Well Cap doesn't seem to agree." By Tuck's tone I would think he agrees that Sam is at least partially to blame for what Robin did, and I can't help but wonder why? "But just so you know, that guy would have to have a death wish to come near you again. Cap made it very clear what would happen if he did. I got a few in myself. We got your back, Pine. You know that, right?"

I blink at him for a moment, genuinely touched. It's not that I didn't consider Tuck a friend. I did. Of course I did. I just never really considered whether or not he'd be there for me if I needed him. I suppose I never considered a situation in which I would need him. But I guess I did, and I guess he was.

"Thanks, Tuck. I mean it. Really," I say hoarsely, and he smiles sympathetically. "Is Sam back in his room?"

Tucker shakes his head. "Nah, he went for a walk on the beach. Said he needed to clear his head."

"Oh." I try to keep the disappointment from my tone, but I fail, and they both look at me in pity. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow," I murmur.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you, Rory?" Carl offers one more time.  

"Thanks, but I'll be okay," I insist, and hastily say goodnight and close the door.

I hurry into the shower, washing every inch of my body, including my hair, scrubbing furiously where I can still feel Robin’s hands on me. I scrub my scar raw, unable to stop picturing his fingers proudly stroking his mark. I don't feel totally clean, but it's not nearly as bad as the last time. Because he didn't succeed - didn't get what he wanted - and the thought is gratifying.

I slip on a camisole and the boxers I stole from Sam last night, knowing they'll offer some comfort.

I know I'll need to tell my mother what happened. I know it won't be long before she hears it herself. Because I'm eighteen, the police didn't contact her themselves, but I've no doubt that come morning, Robin will have contacted Mayor Forbes to bail him out, and Mayor Forbes will call my father, who will call my mother, accusing me of God knows what. I wonder how they will try to make it my fault this time, but I've no doubt they will.

One thing keeps bugging me though. Robin said my father told him I'd be down here, but how did my father even know? I was under the impression he and my mother barely even spoke, so why would she tell him about my spring break plans?

I decide to call my mother in the morning and tell her what happened. I know she's going to freak out, and demand I come home, but I won't allow Robin Forbes to ruin my spring break. He's ruined enough of my adolescence. I hope my mom gets it, because I know she's going to be upset - understandably - but I'm not going home early. Tomorrow I have to go into the local precinct where they'll explain the logistics of the charges and how everything will work with the restraining order and the case.

But tonight, the only thing I want to deal with is Sam. I still owe him an apology for our fight about Cam, and I also owe him a serious thank you for saving me tonight. I wonder if he's still walking the beach "clearing his head". I hate that I've complicated his life. That he's spending even a moment of his own spring break upset because of me. I want to go down to the beach to find him, but I know there's no way I can handle walking around the resort alone right now. Not at night.

I decide to check if the adjoining door on Sam's side of the room is locked, and if not, to just wait for him there. I won't be able to sleep until we talk, though I expect he probably locked the door after our argument. I wouldn't blame him.

I'm astonished to find his door isn't even closed, let alone locked. I pad though the room, just in case he did come back and is asleep, not wanting to wake him. I notice the room has been cleaned since I was here before dinner. When I determine the main part of the suite is empty, I tiptoe into the bedroom and find the bed made up and undisturbed. I'm almost disappointed the evidence of our intimate afternoon has been eradicated. Like it never even happened.

The whisper of an ocean breeze caresses my skin, raising goose bumps, and I look to my right, finding the sliding glass door that leads to the bedroom balcony open. I walk toward it, but slow my gait when I realize he's there, sitting on the chaise lounge, looking troubled. I pause when I get outside, waiting for him to look up, but he doesn't.

"Sam." My voice is a shaky whisper, betraying the stress of the night.

He startles and turns to me, making to stand, but I gesture for him not to. Sam blows out a deep exhale, raking his fingers through his disheveled hair, before settling his hand on the back of his neck. His eyes skate around the balcony, meeting every surface but my eyes.

"Can I, uh, sit?" I ask trepidatiously. So much has happened in the past twenty four hours, and my earlier confusion over where we stand has only compounded and multiplied.

Sam's brow furrows, and he nods. I can't help but think how beautiful he is, how especially stunning he looks with his bemused expression, and my fingers itch to trace the soft crease of his forehead, but I don't. I'm not sure he wants me to touch him right now, since we haven't resolved our argument from earlier, even though I realize it's been overshadowed by what happened with Robin.

I settle on the foot of the same chaise, and Sam scoots back, bending his knees to make room. We're so close, but not touching, and it's strange considering how accustomed I've become to his casual touches, even before we hooked up. His fingers shove through his hair and his tongue slips out to unconsciously lick his bottom lip before he leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, radiating intensity and resignation.

"I'm so damn sorry, Rory. I fucking saw you. I know you, and I know you would never do that even if we-" He takes a deep breath and sighs. "I know you wouldn't just go hook up with some guy. You couldn't. But- "

"Sam-" I want to stop him. I don't need him to apologize for not having psychically known what was going on, and the last thing I want is for him to wallow in this self-recrimination when in fact he was the one who saved me, but he rejects my interruption with a shake of his head.

"Rory, I don't even fucking recognize myself anymore. I don't want to be this guy. I don't want to give ultimatums, and the last thing I want is to cause you any more stress, but I can't do this with you."

My heart stops. This is it. I'm too much trouble; he's ending it.

"I want to give you all the time you need. I know this isn't easy for you, and I know how hypocritical this is. Especially after everything you told me about him - how possessive he was..." Sam scoots a little closer and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. "But you don't know what you're doing to me - how I felt when I thought you were just with some other guy. I felt sick, Ror."

Now I'm the one who's confused.

"I can't do this half way - not with you. It's messing me up, you know? Everything I know about you tells me you would never do that, and yet when I came outside looking for you and saw you with him-" Sam practically growls the last bit before pausing to regain his composure. "I turned into an insecure, jealous little girl."

He looks down to gather his thoughts, and his gaze returns to mine uncharacteristically nervous, but also determined. But I still don't understand what he's trying to say - if he wants to give up on us because I come with too much baggage, or if he still wants me. One thing is clear though - I'm almost positive this is Sam's first experience with jealousy, and I feel guilty at how gratifying the thought is to me.

"If you can't handle it, then just tell me. We'll go back to being friends - I understand, okay? But if you still want me, Ror, I need to know that it's just you and me. I'm sorry if that makes me possessive, but I can't help the way I feel. I want- no, I need, for you to be only mine, if we're going to do this, I mean."

He wants me to be only his? I stare at him, stunned and completely overwhelmed. I open my mouth to speak, and then close it again. I take a deep, steadying breath.

"Do you know why I left the bar tonight in the first place?" I ask finally, aware that my voice betrays my emotionally drained state, but unable to do anything about it.

Sam furrows his brow. Gorgeous.

"When I got there, I was looking for you, and when I saw you, you had your arm around some pretty girl, and... I couldn't take it. I left," I confess.

Sam shakes his head. "Rory, I'm not interested in any other girls. The only girl I was even talking to was my cousin-"

"Thea, yeah, I know that... now." 

The corner of Sam's mouth twists up in the beginning of a faint smile, but it fades quickly. "That's my point, Ror. You left a bar alone, walked right into his trap, and I saw you! Believe me, I wanted to beat the living shit out of him just for touching you, before I even realized who he was - what was happening. I should have known, I could have stopped it right away, but this jealousy... this not knowing whether-"

"I know."

Sam swallows anxiously and takes a deep breath. "So you don't want anyone else?" he asks cautiously, and I stare at him like he's crazy. Who would want anyone else when they could have Sam?

Who the hell else could I want?

And then I remember our earlier fight, and I deflate. Of course. I look down. "You don't understand," I whisper. But he doesn't argue, not this time. He doesn't demand I make him understand, and for some reason, because he doesn't press me, I decide that I can, in fact, tell him. "I don't talk about him with anyone. Cam I mean. Not to Dr. Schall, not even my mom."

"You don't have to, Ror, I should never have pushed you. I feel like a huge dick for it; I'm sorry."

"No, Sam, I'm sorry. In fact, I was looking for you at the bar tonight so I could apologize-"

"Rory-"

"Please, Sam, just let me explain, okay?" I plead, and he nods.

"Okay, baby," he whispers, tightening his hold on my hand, "but not over there."

Sam scoots over to the side of the chaise and pulls me next to him. He slings his arm around me and I cuddle into his comfort, inhaling deeply and letting his intoxicating scent fill my senses.

"Cam and me... we were just friends - best friends, but just platonic friends - since we were three. We lived next door to each other; we did everything together, literally. It wasn't until after I broke up with Robin, after that last time, you know, in the locker room, that Cam told me he loved me. I mean, he’d always told me he loved me, but that night he said he was, you know, in love with me. And I realized I had feelings for him, too - that I'd had feelings for him even while I was dating Robin." I shake my head in self-condemnation, ashamed, knowing how it makes me sound, but the truth is the truth.

"Once Robin started hurting me, and, you know, forcing me, everything changed for me," I add in my own defense, but Sam just stares at me, betraying no emotion, and if he's judging me, he's reserving it so that he can at least hear what I have to say. "We kissed that night," I admit.

"Cam is the person I told, in the end, and telling him was the impetus for making it stop, but..." I choke back tears, it's so hard to talk about Cam, especially about that night, and even more so the following morning. "I honestly don't know what would've happened, what we would've been. We never figured it out, never had the chance because... the next morning..." I close my eyes and take deep breaths, holding up my hand when Sam tries to stop me, because I know he thinks I'm panicking, but this isn't panic. This is just plain, old, gut-wrenching grief.

"He died, Sam," I whisper, "and it was all my fault."