Private Message (21 page)

Later, back home, I Google Pearl. It's not a gay club, but a swanky upbeat club that features up and coming DJs. Well, this should be interesting; I just hope it's not rap music, I just can't stand that stuff…bitches and hos just isn't my thing I guess… I decide on my black fake leather pants and a white tank top with my black studded leather jacket and my over-the-knee black boots. I refuse to be the kind of girl who shows up wearing a shiny tube top and mini skirt. I mean, that's what they wear in the movies, right?

At the club, I hear Dave call my name from the door.

He offers me an arm, like a gentleman, and leads me into the large space. We look down to the dance floor. Music thumps and lights shoot everywhere. Dave walks me around to one of the many bar areas.

"Swanky," I say.

Dave laughs and orders us drinks.

The blonde pinup delivers our drinks and gives Dave a wink. ha! If she only knew he was gay… I reach for my drink and take a sip through the small straw, without asking what it was. It's fruity and strong! Holy shit, is it strong!

I nearly spit it out. "What is this?" I ask.

"It's called a Zombie."

"I do like rum, but this"—I hold up my glass—"is insane."

We chat about his recent love life, which apparently isn't going so well. And of course he asks me about mine.

"I have sort of been seeing this one guy, but it's complicated. I don't think we are going to be seeing each other again." I want to leave it at that.

He sets his empty glass down, stands up and holds out his hand. I take it and he leads me to a wide set of stairs. Once at the bottom I see that the whole bottom floor is a dance floor. Crap.

"I can't dance!" I yell into Dave's ear.

"Of course you can, baby doll. Just loosen those hips and sway to the beat."

I roll my eyes, cringe and start to move.

The dance floor becomes more crowded once a new DJ takes on the turntables. The beat is decent and the booze is really hitting me. I needed this tonight, to just relax and let loose. Maybe I should come out with Dave a little more often and bring Erin along.

Erin's been pretty busy this past week with her "flavor of the week," as she puts it, but I think it's more than that. I could see some sort of connection when she was making out with that Mark guy at Chatz last week. So I haven't seen much of her since.

A couple of guys try to dance with me, but I shrug them off. I am flattered but I don't want to dance with a guy who is probably just looking for a lay. Then I come up with a brilliant plan. "Hey Dave!" I yell into his ear. "Wanna be my boyfriend tonight?"

His eyebrows shoot up. "Um, sweetie…I don't swing that way. Thought you knew that." He winks.

I roll my eyes and smile. "No, I know that! It's just I am tired of these guys trying to bump and grind on me tonight. Can you just pretend to be my boyfriend? Dance a little closer so they can take a hint?" Even after I say it, it sounds ridiculous.

The good friend he is, he moves in a lot closer behind me. "How's this? Will the guys back off if they see us like this?" My heart starts to race. I feel crowded, something isn't right. I need to get away. I need to text Ben. I feel like I am about to die. I can't breathe.

I shove away from Dave and I head to the ladies room, on the opposite side of the dance floor and down a long red hallway with numerous doors. On my way I text Ben:
"At Pearl, come get me. I need you."

God, I hope I can make it…
The ladies room is at the end. One of the doors open and I stumble inside.

I fall to the floor with a thud. "What the hell?" I say out loud. The lights are so dim, I can barely see anything, but it looks kind of like a storage room. No one speaks. Did I lean on the door and fall in? How much did I have to drink?

I hear the door slam shut. I definitely did not fall in.

I hear footsteps come at me. My pulse races. I try to get up but I can't move…What the fuck? I feel a set of hands on my knees. I try to jerk away but fail, and the hands move higher and higher.

"Who are you? Stop." I gasp out and it took all of my energy for the short few words and then it hits me:
I've been drugged.
I try to scream but it only comes out an airy silence. My heart feels like it's about to explode, I am so scared. I don't know who this is or why they have me in here, but I have a pretty good idea when I feel hands running up my shirt.

This is all too familiar, I think as I smell and feel a warm breath at the side of my face.

Then the male voice speaks.

"I have been waiting for three years to finally finish what I started that night at the concert."

And with those words I want to die. Just kill me. I don't want to live with this fear, or the aftereffects of what is about to happen to my body. I feel my pants being unbuttoned and being pulled down until they are completely off. Then I hear the terrifying words from a voice that used to make me smile.

"Oh, what I am going to do to you, baby doll." It's Dave. Dave is the man who violently punched me and backhanded me and tried to rape me.

It takes all of my strength to ask the one question that has been plaguing me for three years: "Why?"

"Why, you ask?" Dave spits out.

"It wasn't personal then. I didn't seek you out or anything. You're small and I figured you wouldn't be able to fight me off. I was drunk and high and I needed to fuck. I didn't give a shit what it did to the girl. I was fucking getting what I wanted until some fuck-ass beat the shit out of me, and I needed reconstructive surgery to my face.

"It wasn't personal until the cops came, and the security guard that saw the whole thing gave his statement. I didn't have to face jail time, because no one pressed charges…because no one tattletaled." He points at me with a creepy, terrifying grin.

"I was unrecognizable after my face was practically ripped off, and after having numerous plastic surgeries. I knew no one from that night would or could recognize me." He touches his face as he speaks.

"I was able, however, to sweet talk the receptionist at the hospital for my 'cousins' records from that night, to see who was brought in from a concert…I was able to find a name and a photo. So I tracked her down and just waited for my time for payback on the little bitch." He sounds so turned off. No emotion. His body is relaxed, which is confusing, given the circumstances.

"So, when I saw that she was working in a small café, I figured why not apply, become friends, gain trust, and really tear her apart. Oh, and what better way than to pretend to be gay? Girls these days just love to have a gay guy friend." He winks and does the stereotypical limp wrist.

"Now, I am going to get what I want after all this time." He reaches into his back pocket and unfolds a piece of paper. Throwing in my face, I then see what it is. My sketch of Ben's face, from class. The sketch that was in my missing sketchbook. Why does he have this? How? Oh my God, he's the one who got into my apartment.

Dropping it to the floor, "And now your boyfriend is going to pay…"

And then he's on me, too fast for my drugged body to react. I want to scream, my throat burns too badly. Just as his hands are around the sides of my underwear, the door slams open.

"Tess?" an English accent roars through the small room. The lights go on. Dave stands and launches himself at Ben, but he's too slow, and Ben punches him square in the face. Dave recovers quickly, and slams his right fist into Ben's stomach, but Ben doesn't seem to be fazed. Ben swiftly throws Dave to the floor and kicks him in the ribs. I hear a violent crack that turns my stomach. I know all too well what that feels like…

I see Ben hover over Dave and throws punch after punch into his face and his sides. When Dave goes limp, Ben stands and rushes to me.

"Tess, are you all right?" He looks me over.

"Did he fucking touch you?" His jaw is clenched.

"No," I manage to squeak out.

His face contorts. "What did he do, then? You have to tell me, Tess, right now or I am going to kill this guy and go to jail."

"Drugged" I say in a breath, looking him in the eyes. I am so scared.

His dark eyes widen and he scoops me up into his arms. "We have to get you to the hospital, Tess." I don't want to go, but I don't know what Dave put in my drink and I don't want to die, not while I have Ben with me. I have missed him so much. A tear runs down my cheek and he notices.

"It's going to be OK, baby, I promise." For once, I feel like it is.

He leads me to his car, sets me up in the front seat, and calls 911. Then he races to the ER.

It's been an hour since they took her back. Dad's not in tonight, so I can't ask him what's going on. Fuck! If I could have just manned up and faced what had happened front-on, we never would have stopped seeing one another this past week. She never would have gone out to that club. I am just fucking relieved that I was there covering the new DJ for the magazine.

I thought I saw Tess on the dance floor with a guy, but I didn't think it was my place to step in. It looked like she was having a good time. When I saw her walk to the hall with the bathrooms, when she texted me. I saw her date, or whoever, walk after her, then run behind one of the small bar areas and through a door. She said she needed me in her text. Fuck, something was really wrong. I started going through every door in that hall.

The minute I saw her, I lost it. I didn't care if she was consenting to the guy or not, she was mine. She
is
mine. No other man can have her like I have. But her text…that's what worried me. She needed me.

So I jumped the guy. I didn't care who he was.

Now I am stuck waiting. This is what I should have done that very first night. Waited.

Finally a nurse comes out and asks if I am with Tess. She takes me back to a small room. I rush in and I see her little body hooked up to IVs and machines.

"Is she OK?" I ask the nurse.

She checks Tess's blood pressure. "The doctor will be in shortly to discuss it with you." She walks out.

I walk over to Tess and I take the hand that's free of IV lines. I lift it to my mouth to kiss it. It's too much. I drop to my knees and I cry. I haven't cried since my mother passed away. I don't know what to do to make this up to her. I need her, I can't lose her.

A knock on the door startles me. "Hi, you must be with Tess," a doctor says as he enters the room.

"Yes. I am her boyfriend. Is she going to be all right? What's going on?"

"She is going to be fine. She is sleeping now, because we found a fair amount of the drug Rohypnol—in other words, roofies—in her system. That is why she was unable to speak or move when you brought her in. We have her on fluids and are monitoring her heart rate."

"When will she wake up?" I ask.

"The drug will be in her system for a little while longer. That is why we are keeping her well hydrated, hoping to flush it out of her system faster."

I nod. "Thank you."

The doctor forces a smile. "If you have any questions, feel free to have one of the nurses page me." He turns to leave.

I return to Tess, pulling a chair up to the bed. I hold her hand to my cheek and wait for her to wake up.

I must have dozed off, because when I wake up three hours have passed and Tess is still asleep. I stand to stretch out my back; I had fallen asleep hunched over the side of the bed, with my head on her lap. I walk over to the window and stretch out, and as I do, I hear movement from the bed. I turn to see Tess moving her arms and legs. Thank god.

I rush back to her side. "Tess, it's OK. You're in the hospital. I am here."

She licks her lips; they're probably dry. "Ben?."

"Yes, baby, I am here." I grab her hand and kiss it. A small smile crosses her face.

"You saved me again." Her eyes flutter open to look at me.

I lose it. I start to sob. I can't help it any longer, I thought I had lost her before, but this was far worse. She could have been killed.

"I am so sorry, Tess. I shouldn't have acted like a jerk. I should have stayed by you. I am so sorry." I try to stop my crying as I speak.

She takes in a slow deep breath. "I know. I'm not mad or upset. I can't be, not with you."