by Marni Mann
“This is what it’s going to be like, isn’t it? Air mattresses and new identities and hiding money in holes at the top of our closet?”
She knows the answer to that already.
She walks to the middle of the room—because that is all this place is, one room—and wraps her hands around her stomach. The painful emotion has returned to her face. There aren’t tears in her eyes; there’s something else. Something I haven’t seen before.
“You were so honest with me on the bus. Now, I need to be honest with you.”
I don’t like her posture, her tone. Both worry me so much.
“You have to make me one promise, Adrian.”
There’s my real name again.
Whatever she is about to tell me, I have a feeling it isn’t going to be good.
“You have to promise that, when I tell you what Brooks did to me, you won’t kill him. Because, as I’m looking at you right now, I get the feeling you’re going to.”
Andi
I have Adrian’s complete attention. The way his teeth grind together and his nostrils flare as he tries to calm his breathing tells me everything I need to know. It’s going to be nearly impossible for him to control himself when I unleash the ugly truth. The truth that snowballed into violent, disgusting behavior, leaving my heart and soul irreparably damaged.
“Andi, what is it? You can tell me anything.” Adrian’s already pleading with me, and I haven’t told him a single word about the hospital.
As hard as it is for him to talk about his past, he’s trusted me with his story. It’s only fair I let him know exactly what kind of monster I’ve been dealing with. Just because we’re going to Miami doesn’t mean Brooks is going to give up on me. He’ll keep searching for as long as it takes to hunt me down.
“In the hospital…” Before I even complete a full sentence, I have to stop and take a deep breath, counting to ten before releasing it.
The tightness in my chest forces me to sit down. Adrian sits next to me, squeezing my hand in a show of support. He’s not going anywhere, especially not after he saved my life. A life I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep living.
“Breathe,” he tells me over and over until I start to do it without hyperventilating.
Breathing used to be so easy—a simple action I took for granted. Now, with healing ribs and a panic attack threatening to flatten my lungs, I feel like I’ve run ten miles in a single minute.
As my vision blurs, I place two fingers over my wrist, tracking my pulse. When I can’t feel my chest rising and falling anymore, I dig my teeth into my bottom lip to make sure I’m still attached to my body.
Adrian starts to panic when his words stop helping. Lifting me onto his lap, he lets me fall apart, wrapped in his comfort, his body warming me from the inside out.
Like always, he makes me feel safe and protected. Safe enough that I no longer feel like I’m choking on my own air as I kick to the surface. The sun shines through the water above my head, and I can finally take a real gulp of air.
The pain that remains is from my ribs, not from paralyzing fear. I haven’t had a chance to take a pain pill since the IV was removed. Now, the pain’s so intense, it’ll take hours for medication to chase it away.
“What did Brooks do, Andi? You’ve gotta tell me. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
I don’t want to be like this—afraid of my own shadow and paranoid that a single thought about Brooks is powerful enough to throw me into a downward spiral. A toxic spiral that keeps me exactly where Brooks wants me—low and vulnerable.
I’m tired of being that girl, but I haven’t figured out how to chase away the demons long enough to get my anxiety under control. Maybe I’ll never be able to escape it—or him. He’ll always be in the recesses of my mind, watching and waiting for me to fall into his trap. Even though I’m running away, I’ll never escape.
“Breathe,” Adrian says one more time before I can do it without getting lightheaded.
As warm saliva pools in my mouth, I lick my dry lips and tell him, “He to-touched me. In my hospital room.”
The murderous expression on his face makes me want to run. But Adrian’s not mad at me; he can’t be. It wasn’t my fault.
“I didn’t want it,” I tell him. “I tried to make him stop.”
“Shh…I know, Andi. I know.”
Adrian cups my cheek in his hand so tenderly, like he’s afraid he’s going to break me. But that’s not how I see him—or how I’ve ever seen him. When I look into his eyes, I’m not afraid. Like a warm blanket on a snowy night, he quiets my chattering teeth and gives me hope that I’ll never be stuck in the cold again.
“Did he rape you, Andi?”
He’s careful not to use Brooks’s name, but the trees outside the living room window still morph into demonic shadows of brown and green, chasing the truth right out of me.
When I turn to face him, the outline of his face blurs as my eyes fill with tears.
I told Brooks no. I begged him not to touch me. And he did anyway.
It wasn’t the first time.
Not even the second.
And I’m not convinced it was the last.
But, rape? Can it even be that, considering I lived with him?
“He didn’t,” I tell Adrian. “He couldn’t. We were together. It wasn’t like that.”
Frozen in place, I think back to the hospital and the way he held me against the wall, silencing me so that he could take without even asking. He didn’t care if I wanted him, not as long as he wanted me.
My crying was normal. My tears were disregarded. To him, it wasn’t a sign that I didn’t want him. It was a sign of defeat. And Brooks loves to win. He loves the power of victory more than he’s ever loved me.
Only my tears were more than nothing. Each droplet that fell from my eyes silently begged him to remove his hands from my body. When my voice was taken, they spoke for me. Because, even at my lowest, my body wouldn’t stop fighting even if the words came in the form of salty tears.
“I told him no, Adrian. I told him.”
He watches as the reality of what really happened in that room plows into me like a semitruck racing out of control down a crowded highway.
“Whatever he did to you, he’ll pay. I promise you, he’ll fucking pay.”
Adrian guides my head against his chest and holds me while my shoulders shake. He lets me cry a sea of never-ending tears until the sound of my own heartbeat is replaced by his. Concentrating on each thump, I pay attention to the rhythm until mine matches Adrian’s.
Once we’re in sync, I lift my head and tell him, “Thank you.”
“I’ve got you, Andi. I’m not letting go.”
“Don’t,” I begged him.
Brooks licked the tears off my face with an evil grin. “Your pain is delicious, Andi. The only thing that tastes better is your fear.”
As he said the words, a finger slid under my cotton panties, exactly where he’d left off when we were standing by the window. “God, I missed you, baby.”
If I were strong, I’d risk the repercussions and reach for the little button on the bathroom wall, the one that would send the nurse back into my room. The one that had the power to save me. But I wasn’t the girl I used to be—the one who had stood up for herself the second someone overstepped their bounds.
The only freedom I’d had was at work. But the second I’d started running from Brooks, I had given that up, too.
“Tell me you want more,” he said with his lips pressed against my ear.
His warm breath against my cold skin repulsed me.
When I didn’t reply fast enough, he shook me so hard, the back of my head hit the seafoam-green tiles on the wall—a soothing, healing color I’d forever associate with pain.
“More, Brooks,” I begged him even though I didn’t mean a single thing I was saying.
Though my words were anything but convincing, my body betrayed me when it accepted him.
“You’re mine, Andi. You’re always g
oing to be mine, aren’t you?”
Before he could slam my head against the tiles again, I told him what he wanted to hear, “I’m yours.”
“No matter how far you try to run, I’ll always find you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Me to play your little games.”
“I’m not playing games. I just want my life back.”
I knew I’d gone too far when his hand stilled, and he stopped moving. For once, I wanted him to hit me. I’d rather take another blow than have him unbutton his pants and throw me on the floor. At least if he hit me, I’d pass out, and I’d only wake up once it was all over.
I didn’t get that lucky.
“Andi,” Adrian whispers, “don’t go back there. Stay right here with me.”
“Okay,” I tell him as I try to silence Brooks in my head. His voice lingers, like he’s reminding me it’s not over until he says it is.
“I should have been there, Andi. It’s all my fault because I left you.”
“You saved me, Adrian. What he did was wrong. I didn’t want it, but it’s not as bad as it could have been.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t say that. None of this should have happened to you.”
“Just like you shouldn’t have been falsely accused. We both have scars, right?”
“Yeah,” he says. “But we’re going to move on together. We’ll help each other until we’re stronger.”
For a second, I wonder if that means he’ll leave someday. That, once we get our shit together, he’ll take off and make a life someplace else—without me. I could never ask him to protect me for the rest of his life, but considering the days have been coming and going so fast, I’m scared he’ll leave before I’m ready.
“Andi, you’re stronger than you think you are. With all you’ve gone through, you should be destroyed. But you’re not.”
I want to beg him to see my weaknesses, anything to keep him with me. But I’m too scared to bring up our arrangement or find out when it expires. This can’t last forever; I know that. But I still want to hang on to Adrian for as long as he’ll let me.
Gathering as much courage as I can find, despite crumbling on the inside, I tell Adrian, “If I let Brooks destroy me, he wins. I’m going to rewrite my ending—yours, too.”
“You’re perfect,” he tells me. He leans forward and places a soft kiss on my lips. It’s intimate, something special, and not entirely unexpected.
I’ll cherish this kiss forever because Adrian sees me with all these cuts and bruises and still wants to know more. He sees the girl beneath the scars and pain, a girl who longs for a better life. A life with choices, happiness, and possibilities.
We’re nothing more than two misunderstood people who aren’t done fighting. And we’re not going to give up until we come out on top.
Clay
I pull my lips off Andi’s and move them to her forehead. I keep them there while I hold her face steady and take several deep breaths to calm myself down. This is the first time we’ve kissed, the first time I’ve really touched her face, and all I can think about is that Brooks fucking raped her.
That motherfucker came into her hospital room, put his hands on her, and forced himself inside her.
I want to wrap my hands around his throat, squeezing every bit of air out of his goddamn body, and show him what it feels like to lose all control.
But, to Andi, it isn’t rape. She believes that, because she lived with him and they were together, it was something entirely different. It wasn’t. Nonconsensual sex is rape regardless of whom it’s with.
He violated her. Marked her. Filled her with more evil memories.
And it happened because I’d left her to meet my mom in Philly.
I will never, ever forgive myself for that.
“I wish you hadn’t pulled away,” she says.
Her voice is so soft, and I know she’s talking about the kiss.
I didn’t want our kiss to go down that way. Not while we were sitting in the middle of my bare apartment, minutes before we took off for Florida, right after she’d told me about Brooks. But I needed the kiss for me. I needed to know that she was mine, that when she licked her lips, it would be me she tasted.
“I didn’t want to. Trust me. But, for now, I think it’s the best thing.”
What I want is to tear her clothes off with my teeth and skim my tongue over every inch of her skin, watching it cover with goose bumps. Then, I want to place her on top of my kitchen counter where I can spread her legs over the edge of the linoleum and bury my mouth between them. I need her wetness on my face, her clit under the tip of my tongue, and my fingers plunging deep inside her.
I need to hear how good I make her feel.
But this isn’t the time for that yet. Andi needs to heal from the crash. She needs to learn to trust again. She needs to process what Brooks did to her and somehow move past it. She is nowhere close to that, not when she just had a panic attack in my arms that stopped her from breathing.
When I feel she’s ready, I’ll devour her, taking my time, fulfilling every fantasy I have in my head. It doesn’t matter what I want right now or how hard it is to keep my hands from reaching beneath her shirt and slipping down the waist of her pants. I can’t rush it.
“You’ve had a change of—”
“No.” I stop her before she can say another word. “You’re the first girl I’ve cared about in a really long time. Nothing has changed. I just want to take things slow. Not for me, Andi. For you.” I see the disappointment in her eyes, and I lower my hands to her neck, keeping her close, my body pressed to hers. I like the way it feels. Shit, way more than I want to. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t even let that cross your mind.”
“It’s because of Brooks, isn’t it?”
I have to be careful with what I say. Her reaction earlier tells me she hasn’t even come close to processing what happened with him, and I don’t want my words to hurt her more than she already is.
“I want to prove to you that I’m not him.”
“I already know you’re not.”
I run my thumb around the curve of her mouth. When I see her eyes start to fill with tears, I wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest, speaking into her neck. “I want you to know what it looks like when my life gets dark. When I can’t find any hope. When I’m the one crumbling. When I need someone to hold me up.”
“I want to know all of that.”
“To me, that’s more important than giving you my lips, Andi.”
She nods.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you.”
I finally get the smile I’ve been waiting for.
“I’ll be there for you, Adrian, no matter what. And I’ll be here when you’re ready to kiss me.”
I lean in and press my mouth against her cheek. I’m careful not to graze any of the bruises or scrapes, and I pause long enough to take in a deep breath of her. “We need to get out of here. You good with that?”
“Yes,” she exhales.
I grab my set of keys and drop them on the middle of the plywood coffee table. Finding a pen in the kitchen, I write, Thanks for the place to stay, on a spot of wood right next to the keys. The lease is month to month, and I still have two weeks left before I owe again. I’m sure the landlord will come knocking when he doesn’t find the wad of cash that I always slip under his door.
With my bag slung over my shoulder, I slip Andi’s hand in mine, and I watch her look around the apartment, a bit of sadness in her eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to bring anything else?” she asks.
“I have everything I need.” I squeeze her hand, so she knows I’m talking about her, too.
“So, this is it, huh? We’re really leaving New York for Miami?”
I can tell she isn’t having second thoughts. The reality of what is happening is just starting to hit her.
“We’re really leaving.” I lead her toward the door, not wanting her to be here a second longer than she
needs to be, and I cross my arm over her back. “You’re going to feel better when we get to Florida.”
I shut the door, and we walk to the end of the block, so I can catch us a cab.
“How do you know that?”
When the taxi pulls up, I open the backseat door and wait for her to climb in. “I know because I had my own nightmare. Once I got out of Colorado, I felt like I could breathe again. The freedom still hasn’t completely returned, and I don’t know if it ever will, but I feel more of it now than I have since I left. You’ll slowly feel the same. And then we’ll start living our lives together.”
She doesn’t appear completely convinced, and I understand that all too well. Soon, she’ll see that I’m right.
Brooks might never stop looking for her. That’s okay. He can look all he wants, but I won’t let him find her, and I’ll never let him touch her again. He will get what he deserves; I will make sure of that. But all New York will do is remind her of memories they shared together—a store they shopped at, a restaurant where they ate, a park where they held hands. She doesn’t need that.
What she needs is new memories.
And I’ll make sure she gets them.
Andi
As the cab drives away from Adrian’s apartment, I think about all the time I’ve spent in this city. Some of my favorite memories were made here, ones I shared with both Camille and Brooks.
New York taught me how to be assertive in business, how to go after the best stories and not stop until I had every detail I needed. It taught me how to navigate around confusing streets and boroughs and how to hail a cab in the middle of rush hour.
The crisp fall air would make me feel invincible, like I couldn’t be stopped. In the summertime, the parks would welcome me. I would spend hot afternoons under my favorite shady oak tree before watching a mesmerizing sunset.
Out of all the places I’d ever been, I felt like I belonged in New York and that I wasn’t alone. There were always new places to explore and comfortable places to hide when I needed an escape.
Brooks always said I was naive, but in my heart, I knew I could survive anywhere after what he put me through—even Miami.