Tara
After showering and scrubbing the layer of tainted flesh, I slump on my bed, clutching the corner of the bed sheet, sobbing silently. Sunlight streams into the bedroom. Facing the window, I’d watched the day grow brighter, the hours ticking by while I tried to think of something other than what had happened. But I couldn’t. Sleep isn’t my friend and the dominating thoughts won’t allow me to settle. I feel so fragile, yet thankful that I managed to escape the foul man that has done this. Reduced me into nothing more than a wailing, lifeless human being. My feelings flit between hurt and anger. Fury rages through my every fiber, knowing what he did to me. How could he, and what the fuck gave him the right to touch me? My memory is clearing as my body and mind try to recover from the ordeal. Right now, I don’t remember exactly what he did, which is probably a blessing. But what I do remember is the confrontation I had with him outside of the clubhouse. I remember being held back, helpless and unable to stop him. But he took the easy way out. Drugging me so I could no longer defend myself. He knew full well I wasn’t going to be a willing victim, so forced himself upon me with the use of drugs. I wasn’t his to take, but he took me anyway.
Exhausted, I’m more tired than I’ve ever been. Sapped of any energy, even moving takes more than I have right now. Every muscle aches and I wonder, albeit irrationally, if I’ll ever be able to move again. My head pounds so hard and despite my best attempts, the tightness in my chest and stomach just won’t ease up.
What scares me most now, is what happens next. How do I begin to heal, and how the hell do I make sure that he doesn’t come for me again? The panic causes pain to intensify near my temples, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. What if I can’t keep him away? What if he finds out I’m here and comes for me? How do I explain this mess to Brax and Izzy? I feel humiliated, but also stupid. Like this was my own fault. Looking for Nate was like walking into a lion’s den. And boy, was I bitten. But, even though I want to hide away, lie here forever, blocking out the world and all thoughts of what happened, I know that I can’t. I have to face the world. I have to be me again, I’m just not sure how to get there. Broadcasting this to the world, telling Brax and Izzy, isn’t going to help. All it would do is re-open the wound, rehashing it and making it feel worse. Sympathetic looks and “I told you sos” aren’t going to help me get over this. Izzy knows all too well what I’ve been through, and she doesn’t need to relive that shit through me. Cradling myself, I wonder how long Mom will let me stay? I need to be here for a few more days at least, until all the scars have healed and the bruises have faded. It’s weird being here, being back home, but oddly comforting. Despite the world I was born into, my mother always kept me safe. I knew what happened, I heard the stories, but we were always so well protected. My mother and I hid behind a plexiglass wall, seeing what happened but never being affected by it. Until that one day. The one day my mother finally gave in and let me spend time with Carter at his infamous parties. Because he promised to protect me. Only the protectiveness he offered was only a cover. A cover story and a way to sell me down the river. Even now, after his death, he’s still hurting me.
A knock on the door startles me, and I turn my head, waiting for my mother to enter. Slowly, the door creaks open and my mother peers around, smiling at me, holding a tray of food in her hand.
“Tara, it’s midday. You haven’t eaten and I really think you should, honey.”
“No,” I reply with haste. “I can’t stomach anything, Mom.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll just go ahead and leave it here for you, should you change your mind.”
“Thank you,” I croak, lifting my hand and clearing the bubble of tears from my eyes. Shooting me a sad smile, she drops herself down beside me on the bed. Silently, she brushes her hand across my hair, stroking over and over. It isn’t an awkward silence, but one that provides me with comfort. I don’t say anything, I just take in the warmth and affection of her touch.
After a few minutes, Mom clears her throat, breaking the silence. “You know you can stay here for as long as you need, right?” Her voice is a whisper, and I respond with a delicate nod.
“Just a few days,” I reply. “Until I’m healed.”
“Baby, I know you don’t want to do this, but you should report this to the police. Go to the hospital, get yourself checked out.”
I wince at the thought. Not only had I been humiliated, but I was suddenly going to be subjected to a string of questions and further violations.
“No,” I decline, unable to force out any more.
“I can’t make you do anything but think about it. Knowing the scumbag that did this will get what’s coming to him may offer you some comfort.”
“He’ll get what he deserves, Mom. That much I’m certain of. I don’t know how or when. But he will.”
“Do you know the man who did this, Tara?”
“Kind of,” I say vaguely. Mom hates the MC. Telling her it was Jeffries will only fuel the fire and put an even bigger wedge between our families. “But I’m not going to say, Mom. Please don’t push me on this.”
“Of course,” she says, patting my leg. “But it’s hard seeing you like this. You’re my little girl, no matter how grown up you think you are. Knowing someone did this to you cuts me up inside. I want to do something. I want to help you, Tara.”
“Being here, letting me stay and giving me the time and space to heal is all I need right now. The rest will work itself out.”