Shame

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “The website…” Gabe’s eyes clouded with anger.

  I could hear Lisa’s soft sobs coming from the bathroom.

  Gabe swore and kept talking. “…was called Shame.”

  The website pulled up immediately.

  Videos of people embarrassing other people flooded the homepage. Nothing too crazy. More like a glorified YouTube, only it focused on bullying.

  “People post anonymous videos… the whole idea behind was to shame people who deserved it without having to be blamed for ruining their reputations.”

  “That’s messed up,” I muttered, wondering if Lisa had been shamed on the site, feeling protective all over again.

  I clenched my fists as Gabe shook his head and compressed his lips as if he was struggling for control.

  “Look.” He scrolled down. “I’m showing you this because you seem to care, but Lisa isn’t like you. She isn’t like any of us. She’s fragile. She’s been through more in her short life than I can possibly imagine, and you need to know that she isn’t the same person. She was brainwashed… the sick bastard played on her insecurity, played on her desire to get noticed.” Gabe swallowed convulsively and clicked on a video then stood back. “And this is how he thanked her for her loyalty.”

  The video started. I heard a guy’s voice talking, and then I saw a girl stumble forward. I knew what was happening, what would happen. I looked away. “Shut it off.”

  Gabe clicked the pause button and cursed under his breath. Wes was silent from his spot on the couch.

  “Twenty-seven,” Wes finally spoke up. “We had to take down twenty-seven videos… She was in all of them, Tristan.”

  “Getting freaking raped?” I shouted, knocking the chair over with my hand. “Where the hell were you, Gabe?” I lunged for him but stopped because he didn’t even lift up his hands. Instead he closed in on himself and hung his head.

  “Here,” Gabe said slowly. “I was here. I had no idea it had gotten so bad. I finally got her out, helped her get into school, but by then it was already too late.”

  “He did what he could.” Wes came to his defense. “The only video we can’t take down is that one. For some reason, the new owner of the site is basically unreachable. We’ve sent cease and desist letters but it’s based outside the US, so we’re powerless. The only positive is it’s the only one that still plays.”

  “But it’s up,” I said quietly. “And it’s only a matter of time—”

  “Nobody would recognize her… not unless someone tipped off the media.”

  I looked at the frozen screen, my heart twisting in my chest. The guy next to her was Taylor. The only reason I knew? He’d left a picture in the journal. I wanted to join Lisa in the bathroom in that moment. I wanted to break down, to punch something, preferably the guy who had ruined her.

  The guy who had raped her and taken joy in it.

  The guy who had manipulated her and relished her pain.

  But most of all? I wished he was alive so I could send him back to hell.

  “The guy’s name,” I whispered, needing confirmation of my suspicions.

  “Taylor Blaine.”

  “No.” I wanted to avert my eyes but met Gabe’s cold stare without flinching. “That’s not his name.”

  He and Wes shared a look.

  “It’s Taylor Blaine Westinghouse, Jr.” My voice shook. “My half-brother.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The look of joy on his face right before he jumped made me sick. I called 911 with trembling fingers. When they arrived on the scene, I was already down at the river bank. The EMTs thought I was going into shock over the trauma, when really I felt nothing but relief. —Mel

  Lisa

  THE BATHROOM DOOR opened and shut. I expected Gabe to slide down on the floor with me, offer his hand, and then hold me while I cried my eyes out.

  Instead, it was Tristan.

  I wanted nothing more than to grab one of the towels, put it over my face, and sob. I refused to look at him; instead I looked straight ahead at the brassy gold knobs on the cabinet below the sink. I watched the knobs flicker in the crap fluorescent lights. I watched them like they were my only way to stay sane.

  Tristan moved in front of me and turned on the water. His body was tight, every muscle strained. His worn jeans hugged his legs; his T-shirt did the same to his stomach. His back flexed as he shut off the water and then turned to face me.

  I averted my eyes again; my own breathing was the only sound filling the room. My chest felt so heavy I thought it was going to explode.

  He knelt in front of me and touched the hot cloth to my face, slowly wiping away what I’m sure what a mess of mascara and tears. His eyes revealed nothing. He continued examining my face, tilting my chin as he washed. When he was finally through, he placed the cloth on the floor.

  I waited for the gauntlet to fall — for him to tell me he couldn’t see me anymore, couldn’t be associated with me, for him to say things like I was a disgusting horrible person.

  Instead, he held out his hand and whispered, “Let’s go drive fast.”

  Gasping, I jerked my head up so I could see the condemnation in his eyes. He was messing with me, right? But his hand was there right in front of me; all I had to do was take it. Take the hand and hope the body attached to the hand wouldn’t betray me — wouldn’t hurt me — because I was completely broken in that moment, the most vulnerable I’d ever been. And taking his hand wasn’t just a physical act, it was an emotional one. I think he knew that, because he moved it closer until finally he cupped the back of my head and used his other hand to brace my hips.

  “All you have to do is say yes.”

  “Yes…” My voice was hoarse from crying. “…is a very scary word.”

  Tristan caressed my cheek. “But it doesn’t have to be, Lisa.”

  With a deep breath, I reached for him and allowed him to help me to my feet. I started walking toward the door, but he held up his hand and shook his head. Deflated, I crossed my arms to close myself off.

  “Shower.” Tristan nodded. “It will make you feel better. Take a shower, put on jeans and a sweatshirt, and in the meantime… I’ll wait.”

  “Right.” I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “For how long?”

  Tristan’s eyes never wavered from mine. “As long as you need.”

  The door shut silently behind him. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sob with relief or shame. Possibly both.

  Slowly, I turned the tap. Water burst from the showerhead, and steam began to fill the room, choking everything in its wake, making me feel the need to disappear in its fog and never come back. I slipped out of my clothes and let them fall wherever they landed, taking care not to look at myself in the mirror. Knowing that if I did, I’d break. My nakedness reminded me of my vulnerability. I gulped for air. Humidity hit my face as I stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to cascade over me. It combined with my tears. I wasn’t sure where my crying began and where the water ended. He was right. It made me feel better, not good enough to laugh, but at least good enough to feel the need to get dressed instead of drowning myself. Ten minutes later, I wrapped a towel around my body and pulled open the bathroom door.

  Tristan was sitting on the couch talking to Gabe in hushed tones while Wes stood by the window on his cell.

  All of their expressions were grim.

  I quickly slipped into my room and tossed on a pair of skinny jeans and a black hoodie then brushed on some lip gloss.

  By the time I returned to the main living area, both Wes and Gabe were gone.

  “They left?” I asked, shivering but not sure why.

  Tristan shrugged. “They had some business they needed to take care of. Besides, they aren’t invited.”

  I cracked a smile at his haughty attitude.

  “Just you and me?”

  “Yeah.” Tristan nodded slowly, his eyes drinking me in. “Just you and me.” There was that stupid trusting hand again. I took it. I gripped it.
I embraced it and closed my eyes, trusting him completely and hoping I wasn’t making a giant mistake by doing so.

  “Alright.”

  He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my head, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. I swear it.”

  Maybe it made me naïve. But I believed him. In that moment. I believed him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  They said he was still alive, though his back had broken on impact, along with one of his legs. Freaked out, I watched the EMTs work on him. I heard someone shout that they were losing him, and I did something no human being should ever do. I turned and walked away. —Mel

  Tristan

  KEEPING MY HANDS from shaking was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Every time I saw the look of hurt cross Lisa’s face, I wanted to pull the steering wheel from the car and throw it, but who would I aim for? Taylor was dead, and, honestly, it felt like I was too.

  My chest hurt with each breath.

  For her to go through what she’d gone through.

  To even, for one instant, think I could reveal who I was? What I was to her? No. That couldn’t happen. My father had had things right when he said it needed to stay a secret. It did. For her sanity, it truly did. I would take it to my grave and feel no guilt whatsoever about keeping the demon in his prison of hell. The only loose end was Gabe and Wes. But it wasn’t my own guilt that had me confessing; it was my need to protect Lisa at all costs, even if it meant they had to eventually protect me from her.

  I was still worried about what had set him off the edge, worried because I’d been diagnosed with something similar. Then again, my own father functioned just fine, though he seemed to be just as heartless and callous as his sons.

  “This isn’t a Ferrari,” Lisa whispered.

  “No.” I barely got the words past my dry lips. Licking them wasn’t helping; I was a nervous wreck as we turned the corner to my house. “The Ferrari is parked, just waiting for you to take it for a ride.”

  She didn’t smile.

  And it killed me, literally made me want to pull over and do anything and everything in my power to get her to smile again. To get her to realize that it wasn’t her fault, regardless of her involvement in that stupid website; it wasn’t her fault that she’d been taken advantage of. Nobody deserved to be raped.

  “Alright.” I put the car in park and hit the garage opener. “Now, you are going to have to pick a color…”

  Lisa’s eyebrows furrowed. “Pick a color? What? Like you have a car lot—” Gasping, she covered her mouth with her hands as the lights clicked on, revealing not one Ferrari, but three — along with a few other cars and toys that I rarely used but had looked nice at the time. Now it all seemed pointless. The money, the lies — all of it.

  “Well.” I cleared my throat. “What are you waiting for?”

  “How?” she rasped. “How do you have three Ferraris? No, scratch that. Why? Why do you have three?”

  “Too much money.” I sighed and tapped the steering wheel. “And too much freedom when I came into it.”

  “Red.” A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. “I think I like the red.”

  “You can’t just pick a Ferrari from thirty feet away, Lisa. You have to touch it, caress it…”

  “Am I buying it dinner later?”

  “Hell, no.” I opened the car door. “You don’t want to make me jealous, do you?”

  Her smile fell. Just like that.

  As if the idea of me being attracted to her wasn’t even a valid one anymore, but stupid, an impossibility.

  One I was more than happy to tackle, even if it killed me.

  Lisa slowly walked up to the garage and went to the side of the red one. “I think I like this one. Yeah, I want to drive this one.”

  “Alright.” I went over to the spot on the wall where I kept my keys, grabbed them, and tossed them in her direction. “Just one thing before you get in.”

  Lisa fingered the keys and shrugged, her shoulders slumped. “What?”

  “I don’t want to get in the car with Lisa.”

  She stiffened.

  “And… I don’t want to get in the car with Mel.”

  Her shoulders slumped even more as her lower lip trembled.

  “But you?” I said with a clear voice. “The woman standing in front of me… scars and all… shame… and all? I would really, really love to get in a car with her.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “Let me tell you about her,” I whispered, walking around the car. “She’s beautiful… like stare-so-hard-you-run-into-a-wall beautiful.”

  She let out a pathetic laugh and cried harder.

  “She’s brilliant…”

  Another step toward her.

  “Has this crazy blue streak in her hair that I honestly think fits her really well. It’s a part of her past mixed with a part of the present.”

  Her clear blue eyes lifted to meet mine from beneath thick black lashes.

  “Her lips are an addiction, in and of themselves. One that any man would be insane to give up.” I cupped her cheek.

  Those beautiful eyes fluttered closed, and another tear escaped. It slid down to meet my palm.

  “And she is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met.”

  Lisa shuddered. “She’s a stranger. I don’t know that woman.”

  “All you have to do is look in the mirror, Lisa, and you’ll find her. I think I’m falling for her… this girl I want to take a ride with, this girl I’m trusting my Ferrari with. I want to be with her. I want her to trust me. I want to chase those demons away, and really, most of all, I want to help her discover who she is, because I imagine she’ll fall in love with that person almost as much as I have.”

  Lisa’s entire body relaxed against my hand. I slipped my other hand behind her head and pulled her in for a kiss, not expecting her to want to kiss me back, expecting her to be timid.

  Instead, she launched herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. The keys dropped to the ground forgotten, unimportant as I moaned and opened my mouth to hers.

  The kiss was all aggression, all passion, all trusting, and, in that moment, I knew I was never ever letting her go.

  Her mouth opened to mine over and over again, giving me intimate access into parts of her I wanted to taste, to explore for as long as she’d let me. My entire body was tight with the need to take her inside. Never had I wanted a girl so desperately. She moaned, tightening her hold around my neck, dipping her hands into my hair and tugging.

  I pushed her up against the car, probably scratching it, not caring if it decided to all of a sudden break in half if that meant I could have her right then and there.

  She arched her back as I plundered her mouth, my free hand moving from her head down to her sweatshirt. I slowly lifted it so I could expose her skin.

  “Thank you,” she panted against my mouth.

  My hand lingered as I pulled back and looked at her.

  “Please tell me you aren’t thanking me for kissing you,” I teased. “Better yet, prove your thanks and get your mouth back here.”

  Lisa smiled, a real smile, and released her legs from my hips, slowly and painfully sliding down my body. “For saying those things… for being you.”

  Guilt whispered. I ignored it and pulled her in for another scorching kiss. “Anytime.”

  “Drive.” She nodded. “We should drive before—”

  “Before I take you upstairs and throw the keys into the lake? Yeah, we should do that.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The sirens were so loud my head pounded. By the time I reached my car, I saw more cars had pulled up, including a black unmarked vehicle. A gentleman stepped out, dressed in a suit and sunglasses — which was weird. I mean, it was close to midnight. I shivered, my hand on the ignition. If I drove off, I could get in trouble. But I didn’t care. He was gone, and I didn’t care. I felt nothing. Maybe
that had been his plan all along — to get me to turn into an exact replica of him. Heartless, numb. —Mel

  Lisa

  I HIT THE ACCELERATOR as we turned a corner and gasped as the feeling of adrenaline coursed through me. Adrenaline had always been bad. I’d associated it with the things Taylor had me do.

  Because the God’s honest truth? When I first met him… it had been exciting, exhilarating. He’d had me start small, little things. It wasn’t like he’d just asked me straight up to ruin someone’s life. No, it had been small, little justifications I’d made in order to appease him, and after each justification had come an even greater reward. Someone older than me — rich, sexy, dangerous — wanted me and thought I was sexy. I’d never felt sexy. I was always too tall, too lanky and thin to feel sexy. My body was a mannequin, but Taylor’d made me feel like a goddess when he touched me — when he worshiped me. The least I could do was listen to him when he when he asked for tiny little favors.

  And when I made him laugh or groan with excitement, I, in turn, had gotten excited because I was the cause. Only… after a while, I needed to do more and more in order to have that adrenaline rush. He hadn’t warned me that would happen and by the time I looked in the mirror and hated myself, it was like I no longer had a voice.

  “What are you staring at?” Taylor came up from behind and wrapped his arms around my body. “You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m ugly.” I averted my eyes. “What I’m doing is ugly.”

  “Ugly…” Taylor repeated, gripping my chin tightly in his hand, forcing me to look at my own reflection. “…is just a term people use to categorize things they don’t understand. Some days you’re ugly,” he whispered in my ear. “But those are the days I love you the most, because you’re at your worst. And isn’t that what true love is, Mel? When I can look at you in the eyes and say I love you, despite the darkness inside? Despite the ugly? See?” He grinned menacingly. “We’re perfect for each other, because I get you and you get me.”