“Cary! Stop! Now! I want you to stop!” Laura tried to twist away from him, but he imprisoned her with the weight of his body. She could feel his erection as he pushed his hips against her.
“Stop, Laura?” He laughed softly. “I don’t think so. Let me show you what you really want.” He hooked the fingers of his free hand in the neckline of her shirt and, with one motion, pulled all the buttons from it, then buried his face in the hollow of her breasts.
Laura wanted to cry as she felt his breath against her bared skin, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of her tears. She tried to escape, only managing to free one hand, which she used to push his head up and away from her. Quietly, furiously, she said, “Get off of me now, Cary.” She pushed at him, but she hadn’t figured on his strength. His slim figure gave no indication of the iron-hard muscles it concealed, muscles he used now to take her hand and imprison it again. With barely a pause, his free hand moved back to her breast. Roughly releasing it from her bra, he took the nipple into his mouth with a low moan of pleasure.
Laura was genuinely frightened. This was someone she didn’t know, someone she couldn’t control. “Cary…please!”
“Please, what, my darling Laura? Are you finally asking for more?”
“God… Cary, stop, now. This can’t be what you want.” She tried to keep the tears from her voice as he looked down at her.
“Not what I want, Laura? I haven’t wanted anything else since the minute I saw you. I’ve been damned patient with you, but no more. If you can screw that two-bit singer of yours, then you can damn well fuck me, too.” Laura saw the anger in his eyes and realized she was powerless to stop him.
Powerless or not, she continued to fight, but she was helpless as he stripped off her leggings and panties and roughly took her in his hand, his fingers digging deep inside of her in an effort to dispel the dryness of her terror.
Suddenly, he released her wrists and knelt above her. For a moment she thought he’d come to his senses, until he imprisoned her again with the weight of one knee on her chest as he unbuttoned his jeans and freed his erection. Moving back, he roughly parted her legs and plunged into her.
Laura continued to struggle, turning her face from his as he tried to kiss her, trying to escape from the pain inside. Then, suddenly, he cried out and collapsed onto her, breathing hard, as he spasmodically clutched at her breast. Finally, she cried as he pulled out of her, calmly buttoning his jeans as he stared down at her. He turned and looked in the mirror, finger-combing his hair, before he walked out of her apartment without a word.
* * *
Taylor looked at his watch again. He’d spent the last hour watching a documentary on sea life and didn’t know anything more about it than he had when he’d turned it on. It was late. Laura probably wasn’t going to call. He logged on one more time—still nothing on-line, either. He turned off the computer and headed for bed, trying to ignore all the reasons she wouldn’t have called.
* * *
Laura lay on the couch, sobbing, unable to move, the horror of the last hour immobilizing her. A small, still-sane part of her brain begged her to call for help, but she couldn’t will herself to move. Finally, as tremors shook her, she pulled herself from the couch, desperately clutching the remains of her shirt around her. She groped her way to the bathroom and, looking into the mirror, let out a small cry, hardly recognizing the ravaged creature that stared back at her.
Her make-up had smeared across her face; the tear-diluted mascara puddled in circles under her eyes. Her mouth was swollen, and there was a cut at the corner. Her face and throat were red from the sandpaper of his beard stubble. Mesmerized, she let her gaze travel further down to the bruises beginning to show on her breasts and arms. And, though the mirror did not reflect that far down, she could feel the bruises beginning to form on her thighs, the stickiness of his assault seeping out of her.
She’d covered rape cases before. She knew all the things a victim should do, the evidence that was needed. But all she could think of was washing it all away, washing his smell from her skin, his taste from her mouth. With shaking hands, she turned on the shower, pulled the remnants of her clothing from her body, and stepped under the hot, stinging spray.
She didn’t know how long she’d been in there. Suddenly she realized she’d used the entire bottle of shampoo she’d opened— oh, God, was it only that morning? An empty bottle of body wash lay at her feet, and the water was growing tepid. Automatically she looked at her watch and realized that, not being waterproof, it had stopped, ruined like the rest of her life.
She turned off the water and stepped out, grateful for the steam that clouded the mirror. She wrapped a towel around her head, pulled her old chenille robe from its hook behind the door, shakily made her way to the bed, and wept.
* * *
When the alarm when off, she was surprised that she had slept. For a moment she lay very still, willing it all to have been a bad dream. But the ache between her legs and the bruises that ringed her wrists told her it was all horribly true. She drifted back to sleep, hiding there, only to be wakened by the phone, followed by Beth’s voice on the machine.
“Laura? Laura? Pick up if you’re there, girl. Robert’s on a rampage because you’re not here and haven’t called in.” Carefully, she reached out one hand and picked up the phone,
“Beth?”
“Laura! You sound awful. Are you all right?”
“No…yes…Beth, tell them I’m sick. It’s the flu or something…”
“Laura, you don’t sound right. What is it? Do you want me to come over?”
“No, I’m just… sick. I need to sleep. Tell Robert, ok?” She gently hung up the receiver before her friend could say another word. Then she drifted back to the safety of sleep.
* * *
She didn’t know how long she’d slept. There’d been a noise…dear God, it was the door! Someone was opening the door! Cary! Wildly she looked for someplace to hide as she heard the door open, then close.
“Laura?” Beth’s voice, filled with worry, called out softly. “Laura, it’s me. I came to see how you were.” Beth had long had a key to the apartment and had used it to let herself in.
Laura struggled to sit up, to call out, to stop her from coming in, but she was too muddled, too slow. Beth appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Laura, I was worried so I came over to check on you… ” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Laura’s face.
“Oh, dear God. Laura? What happened?” Beth came to sit on the side of the bed, horrified at the appearance of her friend. She reached out to take Laura’s hands, then began to cry as she saw the bruises and felt Laura wince from the pain. “Laura? Who did this to you?”
Laura couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak, but Beth saw the need in her eyes and held her while they both cried.
* * *
When their tears had finally slowed, Beth had helped Laura into the living room. After settling her on the couch and covering her with an afghan, she called the paper and told them Laura was very ill and she’d be staying with her. Then, Beth went into the kitchen and made a pot of hot, sweet tea. She was grateful for the brief interlude of solitude. As long as she lived, she knew she would never forget her first sight of Laura’s sweet face, battered and bruised. The memory now caused her to shake so hard that she spilled sugar across the countertop. Gripping the edge of the sink and closing her eyes, she forced herself to breathe deeply until she felt a measure of control return.
Laura listened to the small sounds Beth was making in the kitchen. It reminded her all too clearly of last night and Cary moving around in there. She wrapped her arms around herself and forced the memories away. She was grateful when Beth emerged, carrying a tray with the teapot and two mugs. She took the mug Beth handed her and curled both hands around it, sipping the warmth gratefully, feeling some strength returning. Beth sat across from her, watchin
g her warily, sharing her silence until she finally asked, “It was Cary, wasn’t it?”
Laura nodded. “He was here when I got home last night. Mrs. Nieto had let him in.”
“Stupid woman! Why in the world did she do that!”
“Beth, you’ve met Cary. He could charm his way around anybody. He told her that he’d come to take care of me… ” Her voice broke, and she took a ragged breath before continuing. “She’d seen him around here often enough. She meant no harm.”
“Laura, you know you have to report this. You should have reported it last night.” Beth’s voice was gentle.
Laura shook her head. “No, Beth. You know as well as I do what would happen. We’ve been in the news business long enough.”
“Laura, you can’t let him get away with this!”
Laura showed the first spark of her usual strength. “Beth, what am I going to tell them? My boyfriend was waiting in my apartment, fixed me a lovely dinner, was here for hours, and now I’m crying rape? Look at me, Beth. I’ve reported on enough of these things to know that I look a little roughed up, but not as if I’ve been attacked. Even if they’d believe me, Cary’s story would be that it was consensual. Sure, he’d gotten a little rough, but that’s how we like it. The D.A. would never take the case.” Laura shook her head. “And even if he did, I’d never win and it would kill my parents. I’ll have to find my own way to get Cary.”
Beth was shocked. It wasn’t like Laura to give in so easily. Laura had always had such a strong sense of justice. It had gotten her in trouble in school often enough when she defended someone on the playground or stood up to a teacher she thought was treating her unfairly. Beth took a breath to launch into an argument, but was interrupted by the phone.
“Do you want me to answer it?”
“No, let the machine get it. You can always pick up if it’s important.” Laura looked suddenly tired and leaned her head against the cushions, closing her eyes and listening.
“Laura, I tried you at work, but they said you were sick.” Worry filled Taylor’s voice. “I hope it’s not too serious. Call me when you feel up to it. I need to talk to you.” The connection was broken, and the machine re-set itself, red light blinking.
“He called last night, Beth. The message he left seemed to set something off in Cary. Cary said if I could screw Taylor, then I could… then he raped me. Oh, God, Beth, he raped me.” Laura dissolved into tears again, wracking sobs that shook her slender body.
“Laura.” Beth sat next to her and looked into her eyes. “I can’t make you report this, even though I think you should. But I am going to make you go to the doctor. No arguments. I’m calling Dr. Remington now, and I’m telling her it’s an emergency. I want you to go get dressed so we can leave right away.”
Beth gave her no time to answer, but went straight to the phone. Laura knew she was right, so she started for the bedroom, aware that there was not a part of her body that didn’t ache. She took a black shirt and leggings from the closet and pulled them on. Carefully avoiding the mirror, she ran a brush through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. She almost cried again when she remembered Taylor and the way he’d teased her about wearing a ponytail before he kissed her.
“Laura?” Beth’s face was filled with concern. “Are you ready?”
“Let’s go get this over with,” Laura said as she slipped on her shoes, and the two of them left the apartment and drove to the doctor’s office in Beth’s car.
Laura was silent all the way to the doctor’s office. Dr. Remington had been gynecologist to both girls since their first exams, and she had stayed late after Beth’s call. She’d seen it all before, but never got used to the physical marks that rape left on the victim. The bruises were bad enough, but the utter devastation in Laura’s eyes was what concerned her most. She took her back into the examining room while Beth waited, staring at the waiting room television that was muttering in the corner.
When the doctor finally came out, she said, “Laura’s getting dressed. I didn’t find any major damage although she’s going to be sore for a while. I gave her the ‘morning-after’ pill and I’m testing for AIDS. Beth, she shouldn’t be alone, and she said her parents were out of the country?”
“I’ll stay with her. Is there anything I should watch for?”
“She’s very depressed. I want her to go into counseling, but she’s fighting it. I’ll check with her in a few days. I want you to take my home number and call me if I’m needed. And see if you can get her to press charges.”
Laura came down the hallway and into the waiting room. The television was tuned to the news, and the anchor was saying just as she walked in:
“We have good news and bad news tonight of a personal nature. Bad news for us, good news for our colleague, Cary Edwards. He will be leaving us for the ‘big time’ next week when he begins a reporting job with TNC. We wish him well and want him to know he will be sorely missed.”
Neither Beth nor the doctor was fast enough to catch Laura when she fainted.
* * *
She’d come around pretty quickly, and Dr. Remington suggested she check into the hospital, “Just for overnight, Laura, for observation.”
“No, please, I just want to go home.” Laura sounded completely exhausted.
The doctor looked questioningly at Beth before continuing. “All right, Laura. But Beth is staying with you. I don’t want you to be alone right now. And I want you to think seriously about the counseling.”
Watching the two women leave, she felt helpless. From Laura’s reaction to the news report on the television, she was fairly sure who the rapist was. But there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.
* * *
When they were halfway back to Laura’s apartment, she suddenly said, “Beth? I want to go out to Mom and Dad’s. I don’t want to go back to the apartment except long enough to get some clothes.”
“Of course, Laura. We’ll need to stop by my place, too.”
“Beth, you don’t have to stay with me.”
Beth looked at her briefly, then turning her eyes back to the road, said, “How do you think you’ll stop me, Laura?”
Laura did something she thought she’d never do again—she laughed, and a tiny bit of Beth’s anxiety faded.
* * *
As they left Laura’s apartment, the phone began to ring, but Laura pulled the door closed and locked the deadbolt. Neither of them heard the message.
“Laura? It’s Taylor again. I’m worried about you. Please call and let me know you’re all right, or have Beth or your mother call if you’re still too sick. Please…”
Chapter 26
When Laura opened the front door of her parents’ house, she could still smell the ghostly scent of the piñon that had served as a Christmas tree and would eventually be used for firewood. Just being there eased some of Laura’s pain. It was familiar. It was safe. It was home.
“I’m starving, Laura. And I know you haven’t eaten all day. I’m going to go raid the freezer and see what I can find.”
Laura took her bag and put it in her old bedroom. It hadn’t changed much. The posters of rock stars were gone, but the furniture was still the same, the bedspread and curtains with their familiar pattern. She should have felt safe here, but she realized that while the room had remained unchanged, she had changed too much to go back to being the carefree girl who’d once dreamed there.
She wandered back into the kitchen where Beth was putting a bowl into the microwave. “Mom had frozen some of the posole from Posadas. It’s not chicken soup, but probably the next best thing. Why don’t you get some bowls out so we can eat when this is hot?”
It was easier to do as she was told than to argue. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew Beth wouldn’t give up until she ate at least a little bit. Then she just wanted to go to bed, to return to the safety of sleep.
&
nbsp; * * *
Taylor sat at the piano, picking out the melody line of a song he was considering adding for the next leg of the tour. He wasn’t concentrating on the music, but was listening for the phone to ring. Laura must be really angry with him to be this silent. He preferred to believe that than to think she was seriously ill.
Taylor left the piano to turn on the computer. Laura checked her e-mail every day. She should have been home by now. Maybe she’d sent a message. But, there was nothing from her. He knew he was obsessing, but he needed to know how she was. If he didn’t hear by tomorrow morning, he’d try her parents.
* * *
Laura pretended to eat the posole. She was so tired that the spoon seemed to weigh pounds instead of ounces, and the mere thought of eating made her stomach clench. Beth was wise enough not to try to push her. When she’d finished her own meal, she took the bowls to the kitchen and rinsed them before putting them in the dishwasher. She came back to find that Laura had pillowed her head on her arms, leaning on the now empty table.
“Laura?” Beth knelt beside her chair. “Do you want to go on to bed? It’s all right if you do. I want you to take one of the sedatives the doctor gave you. It will help you sleep.”
She got a glass of water and took out one of the pills. Beth waited while Laura obediently swallowed it and handed the glass back.
When Laura was ready for bed, Beth gently pulled the blankets up and smiled at her. “I feel like I’m playing ‘house’,” she said, and was rewarded with a small smile from Laura.
“Beth? Stay until I fall asleep, please.”
“Of course.” Beth pulled a chair beside the bed and sat where they could see each other.
Timing Is Everything Page 14