by Wild, Nikki
“Becky, what happened?” I asked, kneeling down beside her on the front steps. “Did something happen to you while you were out?”
“I’m… I’m okay, Jess,” she said, her words mumbled and slurred. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said that Becky was drunk off of her ass. That explanation would have been more than enough for her behavior, except for the complete lack of smell that came with drinking that much alcohol.
“You’re not, sweetie,” I said, peering into her eyes to try and get a better look. They weren’t bloodshot, but as I gently tilted her head up to catch a better light from the lamp, I could see how glassy her eyes had become.
“She’s acting like she’s on something,” one of the girls said. “What’re her eyes like?”
“Glassy,” I replied, frowning. Becky wasn’t the kind of girl to ever go out and do anything so reckless as take drugs. “And she’s almost acting like she’s drunk.”
“I don’t want to freak you out, or anything,” the girl said, her brow furrowed in concern, “but I think that your friend might have been roofied.”
“What? Are you sure?” I asked, my eyes going wide.
“No,” she said her hands up in an almost defensive gesture. “You’d have to get a drug test for that. But something like this happened to a friend of mine, and when she came to, they found out that she’d been assaulted.”
“Jesus,” I said, running my fingers through my hair nervously. “What do we do?”
“I’ll get campus PD on the phone and tell them what happened,” she said, pulling out her cellphone, “just stay with her and make sure that she doesn’t try to get up. They’re going to want to ask her some questions.”
“Right.” I nodded, turning my attention back to Becky. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I whispered to her, hoping to God I wasn’t making a liar out of myself.
A loud buzzing made me jump, my gaze drawn down to the phone I’d set down on the stairs right beside Becky, watching it for a moment as it whirred and then stopped moving.
Who the hell is texting me at almost four in the morning? I wondered, picking the phone up and unlocking it with a swipe of my finger.
The only alert I had was from an unknown number, a paperclip icon beside the number notifying me that I’d also gotten an attachment to go along with it.
The second the message opened I felt my breath leave my body without warning, my mouth falling open as I saw right on my phone a picture of me kneeling on the floor in front of my stepbrother, my mouth wrapped around his cock. I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat as I looked around, as though whoever had sent the picture would be standing close by, waving at me and twirling their mustache.
Another buzz heralded a second message.
“You’ve been a very bad girl.”
_ FOURTEEN _
Dick
Jessica told me what had happened with Becky minutes after campus police had arrived—thankfully leaving out the picture of the two of us in her witness statement. But the fact still remained that someone had those pictures of us out there, someone who was more than willing to use them in order to terrorize the both of us.
When the campus cops had arrived, they questioned Becky only for a few minutes, then left, proving the limited amount of compassion UCLA’s finest had for its students. From Jessica’s telling you’d almost think the cops themselves had been drunk or worse, laughing too much at their own jokes at Becky’s expense before leaving with barely a statement from the victim herself.
Becky herself had been keeping quiet over the last few days, barely even leaving the dorm to go to class, instead having Jessica collect as much coursework as she could for her from the classes they shared. Naturally Jess was worried, and I didn’t blame her in the slightest. Since the incident, Becky had barely spoken to her save a few words about the classwork she needed.
This was apparently where I came in.
Jessica was convinced that I’d be able to get Becky out of her shell somehow and maybe find out more about what happened, though I couldn’t imagine why she’d want to talk to me in the first place. I had every respect for Becky, but that didn’t mean she and I actually liked one another. She’d played the part of the protective best friend well over the years I’d known both her and Jess, but that meant protecting my stepsister from me on more than one occasion.
“You’re sure this is actually going to help?” I asked as Jessica led me up the stairs to their dorm.
“No, I’m not sure,” she said, glaring down at me from the landing, “but this is the best I’ve got right now. I thought maybe she’d be willing to tell someone she didn’t know very well. And you and Becky hardly known one another at all. It’s hard telling things you’re ashamed of to people you’re close to, you’re afraid of what they’re going to think. But strangers? They get to hear your whole life story and then disappear into the world, never to be seen again.”
“But I’m not a stranger,” I said. “Becky knows me.”
“But you’re not friends,” Jess said as we reached her floor. “And sometimes that’s what makes the whole difference.”
“If you say so.”
Becky looked like she’d just gotten out of the shower when we arrived to the unlit dorm. Her hair was soaking wet and her skin looked almost pink from scrubbing it under the hot water. Despite all that, she somehow still managed to look like she’d been through hell and back.
Her eyes were underlined by dark circles from what I could only assume was a lack of sleep and her eyes themselves were bloodshot and puffy from crying. I felt instant sympathy for her, though I knew I’d never be able to even come close to truly understanding just how violated she must feel—how alone.
“Hey, Becky,” Jessica said, her voice soft, making every effort to sound comforting. “Richard’s here. He wanted to come by and see if you were okay.”
At first she didn’t say a word, only glancing at me from the corner of her puffy red eyes as she sat on her bed, swaddled up in a pink bathrobe. I took note of her for a moment, watching the way she sat and how she did her best to seem small, as though trying to avoid the notice of any predators that might just be stalking nearby. Her hands, hidden partially inside of her robe, were scrubbed pink just like the rest of her, and what little I could see of her fingernail told me that she’d been biting them down to the quick. She wasn’t doing well at all, and if she didn’t find a way to talk about it—even if it wasn’t to me—then she was going to have a complete breakdown before the end of the semester.
“Hi, Richard,” she said in a hoarse whisper.
“Hey, Becks,” I said, sitting opposite her on Jessica’s bed.
“I hate it when you call me that,” she muttered, though somewhere I could see a faint tinge of warmth returning to her face, if only for a brief moment. It was comforting to know that somewhere in there the old Becky was still alive… if only barely.
“I know,” I said, offering a sympathetic smile.
The warmth faded almost as soon as it had arrived, replaced instead with an angry glare. The change had been so sudden that I was almost taken aback. Becky wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her robe in tight as though to defend herself from—what? Me? I felt a little hurt at the idea that she’d even consider something like that from me, but I had to check my feelings at the door—she was in pain, and when people are in pain they have a habit of lashing out at the ones that try to help.
“You checked on me. Can you go now?” she asked, turning her gaze away down toward her bed spread. “I just want to be left alone.”
“I know it’s not really much of a comfort,” I said, “but I’m sorry for what happened.”
“You’re right, that’s not comforting,” she said, drawing her knees up to her chest, pulling her blankets up around her. “I really don’t want to talk right now.”
“I know,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “and I understand that. But sooner or later you’re going to need to talk. You’re safe here with me
and Jess. We’re not going to judge you.”
Becky glanced up at me again, her frown still as steady as ever as she swallowed. I knew that she wasn’t angry at Jess or me, but I also knew that she wanted control of her life—something she had felt like she lost after waking up drugged and taken advantage of. I didn’t even know how much of the rape she actually remembered, but hopefully it was enough to figure out who might have done this.
“I was at a party,” she said, swallowing again to try and remove some of the hoarseness from her voice. “I was with Greg.”
“Who’s Greg?” I asked.
“He’s my boyfriend… was my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He and I had gone to a party at one of the fraternities together. Greg’s not a big partier, but he wanted to go that night for some reason—it felt a little weird that he’d actually want to hang around a bunch of drunk frat boys, but he was really determined to go.”
“Which fraternity?” I asked. It was almost impossible to keep track of all the frats that were having a party on any given night—it was easier to find which ones weren’t partying, honestly.
“A__, I think. I didn’t really pay attention… there were so many people there,” Becky said, hugging her knees close to her chest. “We went inside and hung out for a while, but I didn’t really feel like drinking. Greg did, though. He looked so nervous about being there that I thought it was just his social anxiety kicking in. I thought the drinking would make him calm down a little bit.”
“What else did you do while you were there?” I asked, leaning back on Jessica’s bed as I listened to her recount that night. The fact that this Greg guy had dragged Becky to the party had me suspicious that he might have just been in on the entire thing. I made a note to find whoever this guy was and give him a piece of my mind.
“Mostly just sat and talked,” she said, her smile returning, if only slightly. “Greg and I started taking dumb pictures of one another after he calmed down. We were being so silly… And that’s when I start losing track of what happened.”
“But you weren’t drinking?” I asked.
“I had a Coke, sure,” she said, frowning, her brow furrowed in thought, “but I wasn’t like, drinking drinking. Y’know? I just started to feel really funny after we started taking pictures. I’ve gone over it over and over, and that is where things always start getting fuzzy.
“I remember Greg talking to someone, but it wasn’t to me,” she said, her eyes closed tight as though focusing on conjuring up the memory. “I… I think it was Michael.”
“Michael?” I ask, frowning. What the fuck was he doing there, and speaking to Becky’s boyfriend. “What’d he say?”
“I’m not sure about all of it,” she said, her frown deepening. “He asked about pictures—Michael did, I mean. I thought it was weird that he’d want pictures that Greg and I were taking… I think I said something, and Michael just laughed. Greg handed him something and then I felt someone grab my arm…”
Greg gave him pictures, I thought, my mind reeling as I realized the implications of what had happened at that party. That little shit must have been in the locker room with me and Jessica. Now Michael has them, and God knows what else.
I stayed quiet, letting Becky finish her story. She needed to get all of it out, to say it out loud and hear herself say the words. There might never be a time when she ever gets over what was done to her, but at least she could find a way to live with it.
“Michael looked at me and just kept laughing,” she said, her voice laden with barely held back sobs. “I couldn’t see Greg anymore, and I didn’t feel right… He’d left me there, alone with those monsters. I felt all these hands on me, touching me, pulling me up onto my feet. The world started spinning and they just sort of… dragged me upstairs. They took me into a bedroom. There were so many of them...”
My fists clenched tight as I imagined Michael’s smug face, remembering what he’d said after making it with Becky at the party. I wasn’t going to let that piece of shit get away with this.
“I don’t remember much after that,” she said, her voice strained as she held back more sobs. She glanced over at Jessica for a moment. “I just remember waking up outside of the dorms with you over me with some of the other girls… I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t understand until after those cops had gotten there.”
“You told the cops that nothing happened,” Jessica said, swallowing as she too fought to keep her emotions in check. “Why did you do that? We could have gotten them by now.”
“I didn’t want anyone to know, Jessica,” she said, a new wave of tears escaping from the corners of her eyes. “I just wanted to be left alone, to crawl into the shower and try and wash everything off of me—to wash them off of me. If I told the cops then I’d have to keep telling this over and over again… telling it once has been bad enough.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, glancing over at Jessica for a moment before returning my gaze to Becky. “You don’t need to tell us any more if it’s going to make you any more upset.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, her head resting on the top of her knees. “I just… I want to be alone for now, you two. Please. I appreciate you coming. I just don’t think I can handle being around people right now.”
“Sure, Becky,” Jessica said, motioning for me to follow as she made toward the door. “I’ll be back later tonight, I guess.”
Becky kept silent as my stepsister and I left the room, her head still resting on the top of her knees. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard a new round of sobs beginning as we closed the door and stood facing one another in the hallway.
“Michael has the pictures of us,” I said, flexing my fingers slowly open and closed. I wanted to wrap them around that smug bastard’s throat. It wasn’t enough that he was blackmailing us, he needed to add rape to his list of crimes. “We need a plan.”
“Is going in and kicking his ass not enough?” she asked, her voice tense. Those words coming out of her mouth almost made me do a double take. Jessica was always a level headed person, in fact it was a trait in her that I admired. I was always the hotheaded one in the family next to my father who would blow his top at the slightest provocation. Hearing my stepsister advocating to beat the hell out of someone gave me more than an idea of just how upset this had made her. “I’m not going to let my best friend go through college without the person who hurt her getting exactly what he deserves.”
“That plan always works for me,” I said as I headed toward the stairs with her in tow. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I knew I wasn’t about to let Michael get away with this—not for a second.
_ FIFTEEN _
Jessica
“What is this even going to accomplish?” I asked, doing my best to keep pace with my stepbrother as we made our way across campus. “Do you know how many of them are in there? They’ve got you outnumbered, Richard! We need to be smart about this!”
“I’m not in the mood for smart, Jess,” he said, “and you shouldn’t be here to see this.”
“Why? Because of my delicate, feminine sensibilities?” I scoffed. “I’m not some innocent little girl.”
“No, innocent is certainly not a word to describe you, babe,” he grumbled. “Just stay behind me.”
The fact that my brother still saw me as some damsel was more than enough to get my blood boiling. He knew I wasn’t some delicate flower, and more than that he knew I was smart as hell. But when Richard was upset there wasn’t much I could do to really reason with him.
Once we’d found out that Michael was the one behind the pictures, my brother made it a point to head straight over to the Alpha Epsilon Omega house, despite my protests. Richard was just one man, but how he expected to face an entire fraternity of men was completely beyond me. If anything happened, someone needed to be there to make sure he got out safe—and apparently, that someone was going to be me.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I said as the frat house came into view. The clo
ser we got the more my sense of dread seemed to grow until my stomach was a knot of worry. Out on the lawn, the brothers of AEΩ were loitering, the grass strewn with the remnants of a kegger they’d had the night before.
“Not a clue,” he said before walking up the walkway toward the front door.
The moment Richard stepped on the lawn, the brothers of AEΩ took notice, their heads turning and someone calling out for the rest to watch. Somehow I had gotten the idea that they’d been expecting the two of us.
“Halt!” came a voice from behind us, though it carried all the sneer and none of the seriousness of an actual command. “Who goes there?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Richard growled, reaching out to grab the doorknob.
Before he could even touch the brass knob, a hand reached out and grabbed Richard’s wrist. I watched, and in that moment I wasn’t sure who I should have been more concerned for, Richard, or the frat brother.