Never Have I Ever (50 page)

She shook her head. “Dec, she’s not ready for that.”

“How can she not be ready?!
That’s the first place I would go!”

“You aren’t her,” snapped Anya. “No offense, but you’re not a woman either. You can’t quite fully appreciate what she’s been through.”

Declan wasn’t an easy man to offend. Anya clearly found the button. “Is that your professional opinion or are you intentionally bringing out the bitchy misandry right now?”

Her typically soft features hardened into a shell of unrelenting armor. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is my professional opinion.
Smartass.
You act like this is a black and white situation when it’s anything but.”

“Piper was almost killed. Show me where the gray area is ‘
cause
I’m not seeing it!” He let out a frustrated huff from the back of his throat as he leaned against the kitchen counter and searched the cracks in the limestone flooring for his next thoughts. “Okay, at the risk of sounding like an overprotective brother I say we strike back.”

“And striking back accomplishes what? Looking to start some sort of war? Have some noble cause to spring into action for? More likely you’ll wind up dead or in prison for those macho tendencies.”

Howard took a sip of his drink and nodded toward Anya. “I don’t know you, Anya, but I approve.”

“Thank you. I’m glad somebody sees reason.”

It was Declan’s turn to roll his eyes. “You know how you have people in your life who are related to you by blood and people you call family out of loyalty? Piper’s in the latter category to me—to us.
Right?”
He took a quick glance around the room to gage everyone’s expression.
“Right?”

Noah finally spoke up. “Look, nobody here agrees with you more than me. For the moment the best course of action—much to my chagrin—is to gather our resources and build a case. She’ll come around, and she’ll need our support when she does. Don’t worry about immediate retaliation. Ethan’s my blood. I took care of it.”

“Define ‘took care of it’.”

Noah gave him a pointed glance.
“Plausible deniability, my friend.”

Annoyed at the conversation revolving around me without including me in it, I took the last step down from the staircase and stopped at the edge of the kitchen. “Don’t I get a say in this?” Everyone stopped and pivoted to face me. “I mean, considering this is my decision and all.”

Declan paled at the sight of me for the first time since The Incident. He cleared his throat and all but stammered, “Piper. I—I’m just trying to help.
Trying to make it easier for you.
I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t think,” I said casually. “That’s your problem, Declan. You don’t think before you get yourself tangled up in other people’s business. I don’t want a knight in shining armor. I don’t need the fucking cavalry. You don’t get to decide my fate or which authorities I pass these events on to. None of you do. It’s mine and mine alone because it’s the only thing I’ve got left. Not one of you has the right. Meddling is what got me into this mess. Got it?”

Nobody spoke. Anya averted her eyes and directed her attention to the glass of water in front of her. Declan just stood there with his mouth slightly agape, possibly afraid of setting me off no matter what he said. I waved away the question.

“Go home,” I ordered them. “Stop wasting your time here.”

Without a backward glance, I ascended the stairs again. Their blatant disregard for what I wanted in the situation brought my blood to a low simmer. They may have been trying to help, sure, but they failed. All I cared about anymore consisted of healing my wounds and trying to go back to some semblance of normalcy before my life got dragged into a spiral of unrecoverable despair. Why couldn’t they understand or even see that?

By the time Noah decided to come after me, sans beer, I was half way up the stairs. He reached for my arm to stop me with a light brush of my skin. “Hang on.”

I jerked away. It hurt to move as it was, moving so quick in impulse made me wince. “Please, don’t touch me.”

“You don’t seem to understand how stupendously difficult that is.”

“Just. Please. I don’t think I can take human contact right now. Besides, I don’t want your pity if all you think of me is an ugly mess of scars.”

He attempted to keep his voice low to prying ears. “What? Where did you get that idea? I’ve never pitied you. And I won’t ever see you as anything but beautiful; scars or no scars.”

“Then explain to me why you got sick after seeing the photos if it wasn’t in revulsion of me,” I hissed.

“You think… Oh, Jesus, no. That wasn’t the reason.” Noah reached for me again, but I retracted once more. He closed his hand into a loose fist and lowered it to his side.
“Not at all the reason.”

“Why?”

“It was in revulsion, yes, but not of you.”
Those eyes.
God, those eyes of his—how full of sorrow and compassion they were for me. “Of being related to the scum who did this to you, of
myself
for not being more careful, of putting you in that situation to begin with. Of giving Ethan the opening he needed to put you through it. Anger that you suffered on account of me was the reason, Piper. Anger, coupled with justice, was the reason I took two gallons of gas and a book of matches to Ethan’s house. Revulsion doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling for my brother now.”

“I thought…”

Noah tossed me a rather melancholy smile. “I’m going to kiss you now. I beg you not to deny me that little comfort.” He took one last step up toward me to close the distance between us. The stagger of the stairs placed him a few inches shorter, though not far enough to be below my height. He braced against the banister on either side to keep from touching me save for his lips to mine.

My body went rigid for a brief instant. The fear of being touched by Noah was irrational; a grave injustice to him. He hadn’t given me cause to revoke my trust. It wasn’t even his fault I reached the state I was in. He wanted nothing more than to comfort me. So, why was I punishing him like this? The only reasoning I could rationalize stemmed from anger at the whole fucking scenario. Eventually, I managed to relax the tension in my shoulders and neck enough to return the kiss, though somewhat more lackluster than the both of us became accustomed to over the past months.

“I love you,” he added quietly. “Give me the chance to make things right.”

“I need more time,” I whispered, “to decide if I want to go home.”

“Go home?”

“To New York,” I clarified. I watched his heart break.

“Run away, you mean.”

“Call it what you will.”

He set his jaw. “Call it what it is.”

“Would you want to stay in the city where you were kidnapped and raped repeatedly when you know there’s no way to win against your assailant?”

“Don’t be defeatist; there’s always a way. If you’re worried about my allegiance it should go without saying I’m in your corner.”

“Pardon me if I can’t find the ability to be as pragmatic and optimistic as the rest of you right now.”

In a strange twist of roles, he flirted on the edge of pleading, “I can’t lose you, sweetness. Losing you would kill me.”

“I don’t want to lose you either. At the same time I can’t accept what you want to give me at the moment.”

For all the emotion built up inside me I also saw Noah’s. I also saw the effort it required to stay calm while raging against his nature. He’d always maintained some level of control over me. I loved that back when things were simple. All of the sudden life turned on its ear and neither of us had any of that blessed control whatsoever. He bit back the desire to grab life by the horns and dictate what could and could not be done. I silently commended the strength it took to do so. Pushing me in any direction at that time posed a probability of implosion. Surrendering some of his control for my sake did indeed lessen the blow of life. It softened his demeanor.

“To Hell with that.
You wouldn’t let me run away when I was most afraid. I’ll be damned if I let you run away out of fear now.”

“Noah…”

He stepped down a stair. “We’ll leave if that’s what you want. Stay with Howard and Charlie for a while until we can figure out a safe alternative.”

“I don’t need protective custody.”

He held up his hand to try and silence me. “Don’t argue with me on this. Ethan won’t stop unless we stop him. Someone should stay with you even if it’s not me. I’ll drop off some clothes and a new phone for you tomorrow.”

“Anya brought me some clothes.”

“You still need a phone to keep in contact with the outside world.”

“Not sure I want to.”

“Piper, you can’t let this beat you.”

“I also can’t continue on like it didn’t happen.”

“I’m bringing you a new phone. Whenever you’re ready to speak to me again I’ll only be a phone call away and my door is always open. I don’t blame you for wanting to keep your distance, I just hope you keep in mind I’m not my brother.”

Noah was far from being Ethan. I simply didn’t want to talk about it the way he did. “I won’t leave California without talking to you first.”

I left it at that. I climbed the stairs once more to hermit in the room I began to call my own, however temporary.

Autumn, for me, was when I took my very first step onto the chilly, musty smell in late summer. When the leaves hadn’t quite begun to change their color, yet while there was still an abundance of heat left in the world and it coupled with the cool winds trying to buy their way into California’s favor.

Not that the leaves ever changed color in California.

Not that it ever got cold enough for a Yankee like me to constitute anything close to a joke of autumn in this God-forsaken state.

Summer was behind us now. After two weeks at Howard’s house I figured I’d overstayed my welcome. Most of the bruises had faded considerably by then. My sprained wrist felt more mobile and my muscles flexed without making me cry at the very least. I promised both Howard and Charlie I’d be fine, thanked them more than they thought was necessary, and returned home to my little apartment in Pasadena.

The sutures had come out a little while later. Having them removed was almost as painful as it was when the now-healing scars were stitched to begin with. For the next two months I holed up in my apartment, secured by a deadbolt, chain-lock and the typical key just in case I was not making my decision to leave Pasadena in what Ethan declared was a timely enough manner. He never had given me a time-frame. Besides, there was still a considerable amount of thinking to be done. If I did leave, it would be on my terms, not his. And it would be because I loathed everything about Los Angeles these days and not because he told me to get the hell out.

Dr. Fairbanks allowed me to work from home for the time being. After the cluster fuck that had been my year with work I decided I owed the man a substantial gift card for Christmas or something just for putting up with my bullshit. This was not my best year ever.

At her request, I spent some of that time talking with one of Anya’s trusted associates. It was a small step on the road to recovery, but it was a step nonetheless. Talking events out with an uninvolved party proved somewhat helpful. I still had a long way to go, and even felt the desire to work with this new therapist for a long time until I sorted myself out.

Late October arrived before I spoke with Noah again. Three days prior to contacting him I worked up the courage to pay a visit to the LAPD. I wrote out the contact information of everyone who’d interacted with me regarding the trauma I’d been through, procured the digital camera from Howard as evidence, and sat down to give my official statement to a detective. By that point there was no genetic evidence remaining from the men who had their way with me, but I tried to describe their voices and what little I gleaned of their appearances as best as I possibly could so long after the events.

Once I finished recounting what I dared to remember of the terror, the detective filed my paperwork away with a promise to contact me. The problem, the man told me, lay in the high-profile nature of the man I accused. It was easy enough to cry foul for the sheer intent to extort some form of monetary compensation from a man of his stature.

Ethan’s warnings reeled through my head again. Damn the consequences. Ethan didn’t have that power over me. I would make certain of it. Noah’s fiery message to his brother didn’t prompt any retaliation thus far. None I saw, anyway. What he did or didn’t do to Noah in my absence was still a giant question mark. Neither Howard nor Charlie mentioned the arson investigation coming anywhere close to us when I spoke to them over the course of those weeks. A gasoline fire is one of the simplest things to see in a case of arson. No detectives had shown up at my apartment, though, and the detective also failed to question me about it when I gave my statement. Perhaps he’d not gotten word of it yet.

Small favors.

As messed up as I was, I grew to miss Noah. His parting words to me, that he wasn’t his brother, kept playing on loop during the moments when my head wasn’t occupied with trying to get back into a typical schedule. He was right of course. My life and outlook on the world changed for the better since I met him. Introvert turned extrovert. He brought out the best in me when we were together. It pained me to even think about leaving him behind. Or compare him to his brother for that matter.