Read Tapped (Totaled Book 2) Online
Authors: Stacey Grice
“Are you okay?” I quietly asked, approaching her slowly. She shook her head side to side to say no and I kneeled down beside her. “Hey,” I whispered to her. “He’s not gonna hurt you again.” I tried to calm her down but she was shaking like a leaf, obviously in shock. “Can you stand up?” I encouraged as I cautiously put my arm around her back. She attempted to get up but her legs wobbled, her knees buckling beneath her. I swiftly picked her up, cradling her body in my arms. She buried her head in my chest.
I stepped over Brock’s body to leave the office just as Tony and Liam walked through the front door, surprised concern on their faces.
“Call the police!” I ordered them. “Woods is in the back. Make sure he doesn’t move.”
They asked nothing and moved quickly to do as I asked. I set Sue gently down on a bench as far from the office as I could get, my hands clenching as she tried haphazardly to wipe her tear-soaked face with her t-shirt. It took a couple minutes for her to speak but she finally squeaked out a “Thank you, Drew,” her eyes sincere and appreciative. “He was trying to… I said no but he… He almost…”
“Shhh. It’s okay. He’s going to jail and you’re okay,” I promised as I put my arm around her shoulders.
“But if you hadn’t come in when you did…”
“But I did,” I comforted. “It’s okay.”
She began to cry again, the knowledge that she’d just almost been raped sinking in. I sat with her, not allowing anyone else to sit with her until the police arrived. A female officer accompanied Sue into the women’s locker room so she wouldn’t have to see Brock and stayed to get her statement in private. Pat walked right behind the cop that was leading Brock, restrained in handcuffs, to his cruiser.
“Get that piece of shit OUTTA HERE!” Pat shouted as they crossed the threshold of the gym.
He’d just joined Tony and Liam in a huddle, his arms crossed against his chest and heaving with pent up rage. I stood a few feet away from them, finishing up giving my statement to another officer. He was writing down my contact information when I heard her voice for the first time in over a month.
It escalating in volume as she stomped toward us, yelling, “What’s going on?” as she hurried down the hall. She came to an abrupt halt and her eyes immediately met mine. I was transfixed, absolutely frozen as we spoke volumes to each other in mere seconds without saying a word. I heard Pat clear his throat and broke eye contact with Bree to look at him, his face harsh and stern. I knew what he expected of me and so I excused myself, planning to collect my bag from the floor and make my way out of the gym. No one moved a muscle.
Just before the door swung shut completely, I turned back to see Bree following me out with her eyes, her features twisted and wrinkled with fear.
Once I walked outside, I was taken aback by all the activity. There were five or six police cars surrounding the lot, a few with their lights still on and circling even though the danger was past. Guilt overwhelmed me when I imagined the potential negative publicity that the gym might earn from all of the attention, even though it was none of my doing. It was apparent that we weren’t going to be conducting our afternoon training session, so there was no reason for me to stick around. Everyone knew how to reach me if they needed to.
Just before opening my door, I turned my head one last time to see Brock Woods staring at me from the back seat of the cruiser as I walked away, his face livid and defiant. I spit in his direction as if to spit in his face, his eyes following it all the way to the ground. A final
fuck you
to the piece of trash he was.
Chapter Thirty-Six
BREE
“I’m fine, Bree. Really. You don’t have to stay with me all night,” Sue insisted as I walked over to bring her the mug of steaming hot tea I’d just made her. She accepted it and I sat beside her on her couch.
“I
want
to stay with you. Get over it already. Your mom’s out of town and I’m not leaving you alone after what just happened.” She’d done so much for me after my own trauma that I couldn’t dream of not being there for her. Especially because none of this would’ve happened if she wasn’t up there doing
me
a favor. I couldn’t get it out of my head. If I hadn’t forgotten my thumb drive, she would be fine.
“I’m not suicidal. More like homicidal,” she attempted to joke.
We’d spent quite a while at the gym where they took her statement and then, at the insistence of the police, had to go to the hospital. I wasn’t allowed to be with her for everything but she was examined by a doctor to document all of her injuries and photographs were taken. She winced when we overheard them outside her curtained area say the words “rape kit,” but she was cooperative. I can only imagine how violating it must have been for her. Even though she told them repeatedly that he never succeeded in raping her, they insisted on doing a full exam in case there were any injuries.
“I know you’re not suicidal. I don’t think that. I just want to make sure you’re okay. We can watch eighties movies all night and not talk about it at all, if that’s what you want,” I suggested, even though I wanted nothing more than to talk about it. No one really knew what happened and the little details they
did
know, I didn’t get a chance to hear because I went with Sue to the hospital.
“I know you’re dying to know how I got myself almost raped. We can talk about it,” she offered boldly. “Really, I’m okay.”
“Don’t you dare say that! You didn’t
get yourself
anything. This isn’t your fault.” I refused to allow her to find weakness in herself over this whole debacle. “If anything, it’s my fault. You were doing
me
a favor,” I mumbled, taking a sip from my own mug.
“Bree, it so isn’t! I just can’t believe I ever liked that guy,” she roared. “What a dick!”
I sat patiently, giving her time to say more, but she stared off into the quiet space of her living room. “Why was he even there?” I probed gently.
She sat, looking lost in her thoughts, and finally answered me. “He was about to leave. I thought everyone was gone already, but I heard someone leaving the locker room and I walked down the hall to see who it was.” Her voice got quiet and she whispered, “Curiosity killed the cat.”
I was a tad shocked that she actually recited a common idiom correctly but didn’t dare point it out; it wasn’t appropriate. She shifted in her seat, adjusting the couch pillows behind her back, and continued.
“He saw me and was nice at first…normal. He asked what I was doing, told me I looked cute. Totally…normal.” Her eyes became tormented and I watched the emotion of the memory play out on her face. It was painful to hear her voice become shakier, but she needed to get it out. “He followed me back down the hallway. We were just talking. I was going to grab the thumb drive and walk out with him, but he…he walked into your office and shut the door… I thought he was just being playful.” Her eyes got wide and liquid and her expression flashed with tearful rage.
I set my hand on her knee, trying to reassure her, but she repositioned quickly, making me think she was uncomfortable with the contact. I could do nothing but be present and allow her to get it all out.
“He started to kiss me,” she hissed. “I tried to push him away, saying that he shouldn’t be in there, but he got pissed.” She began to really cry, her breaths ragged and short as the memory flooded back. “He got so mad…so fast, saying horrible things to me—calling me a whore and saying I’ve been teasing him.” She looked up at me and yelled, “I’ve been chasing him all fucking summer!” as if I needed an explanation. Her brows wrinkled and furrowed in apology and more tears fell. “He’s been the one rejecting
me.
”
“Shhh,” I comforted, leaning in to hug her. She acquiesced and cried into the crook of my neck. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” I told her over and over and rubbed her back, trying to make her feel safe. I was just starting to feel her calm down when she suddenly sat up and pulled away, frantically wiping her eyes of the mess that her tears had made.
“I can’t believe I let this happen.”
I handed her the box of tissues and gave her time to compose herself, passing her purse over when she looked for it. The horror on her face when she pulled out her compact and got the first look at her eye was painful. All movement in the room ceased and her fingers slowly came up to touch her bruised and swollen skin.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered when she saw her reflection in the tiny circle mirror. She gawked at herself in shock and disbelief, rapidly becoming angrier and more hysterical. I wanted to cry along with her but I kept it together, knowing that she needed to be allowed to fall apart and I needed to be strong for her. “He hit me in the face and slammed me down over the desk,” she rambled through her sobs. “I tried to stop him but…he was so strong. It was like he was possessed,” she explained. “He held me down and shoved my shorts down…oh God…if Drew hadn’t come in when he did…” The realization of what was sure to have happened hit her and she sobbed into her hands. I rubbed her back in small circles as she bent over crying, sending up a silent prayer to thank God for sending help when he did.
She sat up and grabbed both of my hands into hers, turning her body to face me. “Bree, I think I’ve been wrong about him,” she asserted. “Drew. He
saved
me. And comforted me.” I tried to maintain eye contact as she pleaded with me but soon couldn’t see through my own tears. “He knows how much I hated him for doing what he did to you. He has to know. And he helped me anyway.” She squeezed my hands, refusing to let go of them, so I let my tears fall down my cheeks with abandon. “The way he held me…took charge of the situation and commanded the guys to call the cops…all while never letting me go,” she recalled. “He’s a good guy, Bree!” she declared, as if trying to convince me. “I think he’s just misunderstood—misjudged.”
“
I
know this, Sue. I’ve known this and been trying to tell you all along.”
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t see it before,” she whimpered.
I embraced her as we sat together on her sofa, silently thanking her for admitting that she was wrong about him. I hated that it took something this awful to make her realize, but Drew had proven his character to her, one of the toughest sells, beat out only by my father. And for that I was grateful.
We didn’t talk about it anymore that night. Sue looked better soon after she got it all out. We ate Chinese food and drank cheap wine, watching
The Big Lebowski
until exhaustion got the best of her and she fell asleep on the couch. I covered her with a blanket and finally turned the television off as the credits rolled.
What a day.
Only after Sue was taken care of did I finally drag my laptop out of my messenger bag to email my assignment. My only hope was that the merits of my paper would somehow earn me some partial credit since I was submitting almost eight hours after the deadline, but I also sent an email to the instructor explaining that I had a family emergency that prohibited me from mailing the assignment on time. It was surely an effort made in vain, as he’d probably heard every excuse in the book for missed assignments, but I had to try.
I settled myself on the opposite end of the sectional and tried to quiet my brain to fall asleep, but my thoughts of course drifted to Drew. His face when we finally laid eyes on each other spoke volumes—screaming apologies and begging for forgiveness. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes told me everything I needed to hear. He loved me. He needed me. He was regretful and guilt-stricken for hurting me and was obviously hurting himself, so very much. He couldn’t touch me but embraced me from across the room, touching my heart and soul with just a look.
I drifted off to sleep feeling more reassured than I had since it all happened. I knew in my core that we would somehow be okay.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
BREE
Watching Sue toss and turn restlessly in her sleep made for a long night. I could only imagine her nightmares after such a traumatizing day. But my phone still loudly rang at 5:00 am, my father’s voice bellowing through the receiver. He asked how she was doing but quickly got to his point. He was almost cold about it all. The show needed to go on and he insisted the gym be open for business as usual first thing that morning. I asked about the police and feigned concern for their process, but he assured me he had the sheriff’s blessing to reopen and needed me to be aware that their training schedule wouldn’t be interrupted because of this “unfortunate little event.”
I rolled my eyes, at first thinking him annoyingly dismissive of what my best friend had just endured. But something else was wrong. Ordinarily, Dad would never treat her this way, and certainly not after something so traumatic. I didn’t verbalize it. There was no point. I learned long ago to choose my battles and this wasn’t one I wanted any part of. He was obviously stressed and this inconvenienced him and potentially ruffled his fighter. They were supposed to leave in six days and I knew that every second spent in that gym was precious and productive.
“What do you need me to do?” I questioned groggily, desperate for him to get to the damn point. He had keys. He knew the alarm code. I failed to see why
I
needed to be woken up before the crack of dawn for
them
to go train at the gym.
I heard him take in a serious and long, drawn out breath before he answered me. “I need you to go see Drew.” He said it like it was all one word, fast and clipped, as if it would be less painful if he hurried it along. It only made me ask for him to repeat himself since I was certain I’d misheard him. “That’s right. Go see Drew.”