But the truth is, I'm still hoping I can salvage this trip. That I can get through this appointment, figure out how to deal with the logistics of whatever the legal consequences are, update my mom, and try to enjoy the last couple days of my vacation. Is it an ambitious plan? Sure. And, honestly, a part of me does want my mother here with me - to comfort me, to support me. For so long she was the only person close to me who really stood by me - who knew everything I'd gone through, eventually anyway. And not just with Robin but with my falling out with my entire hometown, with my father, my anxiety... And, of course, the worst part of all - losing Cam.
If I didn't have Sam, I'd have called my mother last night. Who am I kidding - if I didn't have Sam, I wouldn't be here at all. But I do have Sam. He cares. He loves me. And he knows everything. Everything I went through, and everything that happened last night. He saw it, though I wish he hadn't, wish I could erase the image of Robin hurting me - the one he described earlier - from his memory. The one that caused his nightmare. I idly hope that his bad dream was an isolated incident, and not the start of an ongoing issue. Like mine. How could I forgive myself otherwise?
Sam keeps a fierce grip on my hand as he leads me into the precinct. It's nothing like the sheriff's station in Linton. Much more expansive and modern. Modern compared to Linton anyway - more like what I'd seen on television or in movies, except messier.
A frazzled and overworked older detective asks us if he can help us and is no more enlightened when Sam introduces us and explains why we're here. The stress of the situation is getting to me so Sam, obviously noting this, directs me to sit in a random empty seat next to a random empty desk, and seeks out someone who can actually assist us. I sit and take deep breaths and count, not that I'm close to a panic attack, but I could certainly use some help calming a bit.
I startle when Sam returns with Detective Mora minutes later, and she greets me with what I read as genuine concern before leading us to a sparsely furnished interview room. She explains that as the case progresses the prosecutor would be happy to meet me in her office, but since this is just an informal meeting to follow up my statement and the complaint, it was easiest to procure the interview room. I don't feel any less nervous. All I can think is that this is where criminals are interrogated. A small metal table sits in the center of the room, surrounded by four wooden chairs, and not much else. Except the two way mirror.
Detective Mora is joined by another detective who was on the scene last night, a young man who can't be much older than Sam and me. I'd guess early twenties, twenty five at the oldest. He reintroduces himself as Detective Karanek and begins to explain that Robin will be arraigned tomorrow at which time bail will be set. He's confident he will be remanded, meaning no bail, especially since there is a violated Injunction for Protection, but I know better. As soon as our fathers work their magic, the tune will change. Even down here.
They ask me about the restraining order, or "Injunction for Protection" as it is formally called, since Detective Mora seems to think the history I recounted should've called for one of the specific kinds, but Robin's is the standard one. I vaguely remember that I didn't qualify for "domestic violence" since Robin and I never lived together - my weekend stays did not legally count. There was also one for "dating violence" but since I was still a minor at the time, my mother had to sign it on my behalf and to qualify for "dating violence", or even "sexual violence", she would have had to have witnessed one of the incidents, which obviously wasn't the case.
I don't know if it would have been different if the Mayor and District Attorney weren't in Robin's pocket, but it is what it is. Detective Mora gives some information that I scarcely register. Sam asks a question and the other detective responds. I feel strangely numb. As if it isn't me sitting here in this room. As if I'm watching the scene from somewhere else. Like I'm on the other side of the two way mirror.
This is how I felt last year too, during the aftermath. In some kind of perpetual daze. Dr. Schall called it a coping mechanism, and perhaps he's right. Perhaps my mind has read the symmetry of my situation - sitting here in a police precinct - and triggered the familiar physical effect.
Thank God for Sam, I think idly. At least he's paying attention, surely asking the right questions, while I watch the pitiful girl with the bruised cheek and tired eyes as she tries to draw strength from the beautiful boy beside her.
"You should know that Mr. Forbes denies he knowingly approached you-" Mora starts, but Sam interrupts.
"He didn't approach her, he stalked and assaulted her," Sam corrects her, "knowingly," he adds resentfully.
"I understand, Mr. Caplan. I'm only informing you of his story so that you are aware and prepared," Mora replies, but all I hear is that Robin has his own story, and all I know is that the last time Robin told stories about me, he was the one everyone believed.
Mora continues, addressing me. "Forbes claims he believed you to be in New York, that he just happened to come to Miami and ran into you. He claims you came on to him, and that he was receptive, but that you became angry at some point during the encounter and began to strike him. He maintains that when Mr. Caplan came upon the two of you in the alley, he was simply trying to restrain you from assaulting him, and that Mr. Caplan proceeded to attack him and Tucker Green joined him."
My jaw drops and my eyes widen in horror and I feel Sam's entire body stiffen beside me.
"I... he-" I choke on my own words.
Sam leans forward, placing his elbows on the table but I squeeze his thigh to stop him before he loses his temper.
"He's lyin'. It's what he does. He waited for me to leave the bar in that alley and then-"
"We already have your statement, Aurora," Mora assures me.
"Rory," I correct her, though I'd already asked her not to call me Aurora last night.
"Yes. Right. Rory. I only wanted you to be aware of his story. I understand it is upsetting."
"He's been followin' me," I murmur.
"What do you mean? That isn't in the report," Detective Karanek says.
"He stalked her," Sam says heatedly through a clenched jaw, clearly working to keep his control.
"When I screamed for Sam, Robin asked if that was the name of the..." I trail off, hesitating, embarrassed by Robin's description - and the accuracy of it - and when I continue my voice has dropped to little more than a whisper. "He asked if Sam was the guy I'd been followin' around - like he'd been watchin' me."
"Did he say that he had followed you?" Mora asks.
"Um, no, he, uh... just implied it, I guess," I mutter dejectedly, aware that his words are not enough to prove that he did in fact follow me - not in court, and therefore, not at all. The detectives exchange a glance, confirming that Robin will at least get away with stalking me, and I wonder if there's anything he won't get away with.
For the first time I think I'd rather just get back to New York as soon as possible. Why did I think it was a good idea to finish out this vacation? What the hell is wrong with me? Robin is here! What did I think? That he'd stay locked up? Surely by now I should know better...
"One more thing, Mr. Caplan," Detective Karanek rips me out of my epiphany.
Sam raises his eyebrows inquisitively; though they have been talking to him, this is the first time one of the detectives has addressed Sam as anything other than my escort.
"Mr. Forbes maintains that not only did you attack him while he was restraining Miss Pine from assaulting him, but that you continued to beat him while he was down, that Tucker Green did so as well, and that after you escorted Miss Pine from the alley, you returned and began to beat him all over again while threatening his life." Karanek says this as if it's the most casual thing in the world - what he's accusing Sam of, what it would mean if Robin's accusations are taken seriously.
Sam grits his teeth, like he's holding back from saying what he really wants to say, and I silently implore him to defend himself. To deny Robin's story. But deep down I know that at least part of it i
s true.
When Sam remains silent, I can't help but come to his defense. "Like I said, he's lyin'. Sam would never... he didn't-"
"With all due respect, detectives, I gave my statement last night. I realize I'm not from around here, but I'm sure this is not the first time you've had a violent offender attempt to blame the victim or her friends for his crime. And I'm sure you wouldn't give such a blatant attempt at this any credence." Sam comes across cool and collected, like an attorney, and my brow furrows, wondering where he learned it from. It's exactly what my parents would have said, would have advised him to answer if either of them were his counsel. Of course, my father is probably counseling Robin, and my mother is still in the dark about last night.
"Mr. Caplan, our job is to investigate all claims before drawing conclusions, with all due respect," Mora replies, "but yes, we do have your statement. Again, at this point we are simply informing you of Mr. Forbes's story."
At this point? I swallow anxiously and Sam takes my hand, squeezing once. What if they believe Robin? Sam and Tuck could get in real trouble. Because of me. They could get arrested! I try to take deep breaths but I'm too worried. If Sam gets arrested he could end up with a criminal record. This could destroy his college plans, his life.
"He's lyin'," I repeat shakily. "Robin. He came after me, he tried to kill me! Sam just... he saved me. What was he supposed to do?" I choke out, "Just let Robin-"
My anxious rambling is cut off when Sam stands suddenly, his chair scraping loudly against the concrete floor. I look up at him, but he doesn't meet my eyes. "Can I speak with you in private for a moment?" Sam asks the detectives.
I blink up at him, completely bewildered, but both detectives stand and casually follow Sam out of the interview room and before I know it, I'm sitting alone in here like some freaking criminal.
It's barely minutes before they return. Sam takes his seat beside me again and Detective Mora continues as if there was no interruption. She explains that there's no reason for me to attend the arraignment and that they will contact me when they need me if there is a trial. Sam asks why there wouldn't be one, and Karanek explains that if Robin is "smart" he will "plead out" and assures Sam that considering the circumstances, and the violated Injunction for Protection, he doubts Robin will avoid jail time.
I can't help my snort.
Everyone looks at me and I blush and mutter a cursory apology. The detectives excuse themselves, but I ask if I can just sit there for a few minutes. Not that I really want to spend a minute more in this drab room, but I'm not sure my legs are quite ready to hold me up.
Sam asks if I'm alright and I shrug. Am I alright? I'm not sure I've been "alright" in over a year.
"I know what you're thinking," Sam hedges, and I give him a doubtful look.
How could he possibly know that I'm thinking Robin will get bailed out of this, both figuratively and literally, that Sam could get into serious trouble because of me when he should be partying on a freaking beach, and the fact is, I'm simply not worth it. My father's words haunt me. Small town girl. A dime a dozen. And for a moment I wonder what is wrong with Sam that he doesn't see it.
"He's not getting away with it, Ror."
This time I do suppress my snort, but Sam knows me too well. He laces his fingers with mine and begins to rub small circles on the back of my hand.
"He's not. And he's never going to hurt you again. I'm not going to let him, you hear me?" He is emphatic, and I believe that he means what he says, but I also know he doesn't know the Forbeses. Or my father. And I don't want him inserting himself where he could get hurt or in trouble.
"Sam, you're just gonna have to let it play out. I don't want you any more involved than you already are. I've told you - I don't want you goin' after Robin."
"Ror-"
"No, Sam. Robin will get the minimal possible punishment, it's just how it works for people like him, but soon I'll be back in New York, and I can get back to my new life away from him. They're already accusin' you of assaultin' him! I don't want you in trouble and Robin's not worth it." I'm not worth it, I add silently. "And how are you so calm when he's accusin' you of attackin' him? You sounded like a freakin' lawyer."
Sam tucks a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. "No, Rory. That's not how it's going to go down this time. You were fucking attacked. Don't you dare worry about me. My father, for the abusive, drunk asshole he was, is also a high powered attorney. I know the system, too. We are going to figure this out, you and me, together." He takes a deep breath before pressing his lips softly to my forehead. "I love you."
He wraps his strong arms around me and hauls me onto his lap, hugging me to his chest. I let him. I let the security I feel in his embrace wash over me and fool me into believing him. Into believing that somehow, for once, Robin will be punished for what he's done to me. That I will somehow, at some point, be able to put this horrible history behind me. But my scar stings with a phantom pain, reminding me of Robin's words and of their underlying truth - that I wear his mark in my soul just as surely as I wear it on my skin. That no matter how much of me heals, no matter how frantically I try to give myself to Sam, a part of me will always belong to him.
The only question left is how much of myself has been forever tainted, and is there enough left of me for Sam. Enough to make him happy, to outweigh all of the awful that comes along with Robin's constant shadow. Enough to be worth it.
But I'm afraid I already know the answer. That I've known it all along.
"Hey... why did you ask to talk to them alone?" I ask in a whisper as I resettle onto my own chair, still in his embrace. I pull back to look at him and his hand slides to cup my jaw.
"I just didn't want them upsetting you any more. You've been through enough."
"Me? They were accusing you-"
"They were repeating his bullshit and it was upsetting you, Ror. You know what they said to me out there?" He nods toward the door.
I shake my head.
"I told them if they were going to charge me with something they should do it so I can call my lawyer, and if they had any more questions they could ask me in private. Karanek told me that if, hypothetically, someone was to beat the living shit out of a rapist who was attacking his girl, theoretically, it isn't the kind of case they spend their time on down here in Florida. So don't worry, okay? Not about me."
Sam stands and holds his hand out to me. For a split second I just look up at him and soak in his perfection. Tall, lean and muscular. Strong, but protective in his strength. And his stunning face with its unnatural symmetry, sculpted jaw and defined cheekbones. But more than anything, those sparkling midnight blues - dark, hypnotic, and adoring.
"Our friends all went shopping in South Beach and there's still an hour or so of sun left, let's forget about that piece of shit for now and go make out on the beach," he offers with an irresistible half-smirk. An offer no girl alive could refuse, least of all me.
I let him lead me out of the interview room, allowing the alien feeling of hopefulness to seep in. Sam's hand holds mine tightly, giving me the illusion that I'm really all his, that he will make everything okay.
And then I get the wakeup call I needed.
****
Two middle aged men dressed smartly in suits stalk purposely through the precinct and I freeze, my face draining of color so quickly that Sam takes a couple more steps before he even realizes I've turned into a terrified statue.
They don't see me. Not yet. But I can't close my eyes, can't count, can't do a single damn thing besides stand here and wait for whatever will come.
"What's wrong, baby girl?" Sam's worried voice barely registers. I can't imagine what I must look like right now, but I can't tell him I'm okay, I can't lie. I can't even look at him, because right then the men's gazes fall upon me and I can't even breathe.
"Aurora!" my father calls from across the room. Beside him, Mayor Forbes remains silent, but his hostile glare holds me in place.
They approach me together
, and instinctively I unfreeze and take several unconscious steps back. Sam steps in front of me like a shield, but still, I can't tear my gaze from my father's.
"Aurora, what is wrong with you? You need to come with me right now and take back your ridiculous story! Haven't you put the poor boy through enough?" he accuses, ignoring Sam.
I've put Robin through enough?
I swallow anxiously, but the knot in my throat prevents me from forming words of any kind. Finally, my father's eyes skate away from mine to take in Sam and his protective stance. I'm torn between wanting Sam far away from this confrontation - from wanting to protect both him from my father and myself from this humiliation - and from desperately needing his support. It's all irrelevant though, because I still can't move, can't speak, can't do a single thing except try not to panic.
"Back. Off." Sam is deceptively calm, but his words are firm.
My father scowls. "Who in the hell are you?" he asks Sam as his glare sizes him up, obviously finding him lacking. Of course, he's not Robin.
"I'm Rory's boyfriend, who the hell are you?" Sam matches my father's tone, though I suspect he knows exactly who he's speaking to.
Still, Mayor Forbes speaks only with his eyes, but they speak volumes, and it is impossible not to feel every bit of his contempt.
"I'm Aurora's father." My father says this as if it's some trump card. As if this gives him some all-powerful claim over me. I can't see Sam's face since he is positioned in front of me, but I see his entire body tense and I can feel his revulsion for the man before him.
"I see," Sam replies, "and I suppose you're here to help Rory's rapist get away with trying to do it again? That's what you do, isn't it?"
I gasp, shocked that Sam has the nerve to say such a thing. It is the first time anyone has called my father out so blatantly.
"How dare you? You have no idea what you're talkin' about, boy!" My father takes a deep breath as if to calm himself, and then looks Sam over curiously. "Look, son, I understand. My daughter is beautiful and she sure has a way of gettin' to boys, but she has serious issues. Do you have any idea what she did to the last boy that fell for her? Don't fall for her lies, you'll be her next victim," he warns.
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