by Bry Ann
Logan’s phone clicked and with shaking hands I did as he said. He was my hero, still is, but especially when I was 13. The ambulance and police arrived quickly. They were all very nice and very gentle with me. In the ambulance they cleaned up some of my wounds. I got to the hospital and the rape kit was the absolute worst part of everything. I tried to separate my body and mind again, but my body wouldn’t do it on command. I was mortified. Everyone was poking and prodding every inch of me. The nurses were so nice, but I cried and shook the entire time. I kept telling them I just wanted my brother. That was the God’s honest truth. The only person I wanted was him. The only thing that held me together during that moment was a small pink and white stuffed pig they gave me to hold. So stupid looking back now, but something about the softness of it in the moment meant the world to me.
I hoped when the exam was over I would be done, but I wasn’t. I still had to give my statement to the police. First the nurse handed me new clothes and toiletries with a small smile. I appreciated her attempt at making me feel better, but I felt completely numb by this point. She couldn’t make me feel better or worse. Once I got in the restroom I tore that disgusting dress off my body. If it would have flushed down the toilet that is where I would have stuffed it. The nurses told me they’d donate it to charity. I guess that was a better option than letting me rip it to shreds. I thought once I was clean, showered and out of my clothes I’d somehow feel better...cleaner, but I didn’t. I still felt dirty, inside and out.
Next, the police asked me if I wanted to see my family or give my statement. They kindly said it was up to me what I wanted to do first. I chose the cops. I needed a minute before I could be “on” in front of other people. This was all a haze and it was moving too fast. I didn’t want Logan anymore. I just wanted to go in a dark room alone and cry. Scream. Let something out, whatever it was that was eating away at my insides.
I numbly gave the police a recap of what happened. They asked questions and I answered them. Then the ushered me into a room and told me they’d get my family for me. I didn’t want to see them yet. I stopped the cops halfway out and told them if I had to see someone I just wanted to see my brother. They looked at me strangely but nodded in understanding. I figured I had a few minutes before they were able to get Logan upstairs without him causing some kind of ruckus, so I slid into the bed and pulled the covers over my head. I felt safer in there, in the safety of the sheets. I took deep breaths and tried to calm my body which was now going haywire with anxiety and overwhelm. I got lost in my breath. It was like time froze and then… whoosh! The covers were swept off my body in a quick motion.
Logan.
“That was fast,” I murmured. “I thought I had longer before you got up here.”
“It’s a hospital Dana. Not Hollywood Boulevard.”
“Good point.”
He nodded and sat down at the foot of my bed. I swung my feet around to sit next to him. There was a heavy silence that unused between the two of us. It was so long and so heavy that neither one of us knew how to break it. Eventually Logan did.
“What happened?” he said quietly. “I mean no one will tell me anything. I think I know but…” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as shaggy hair sat over his deep blue eyes.
“It’s been a bad day,” I mumbled.
Logan walked over to his bag that he set on the floor by the door. He pulled something out of it and hid it behind his back as he walked back over to me and sat down. I looked at him curiously.
“I brought cookies,” he brought out a box of shortbreads from behind his back, “but you have to talk first to get them.”
My jaw dropped.
“Really? After everything that happened! You were so cute to bring cookies, but now you are going to blackmail me with them. Low blow bro.”
“It’s not blackmail when I’m trying to help you.”
“No! You are curious. There is a difference.”
“Is it really healthy to keep secrets from your family Dana? Come on.”
He frowned, clearly displeased. Like I said, Logan was never subtle. I grabbed the covers and pulled them over my stomach and meekly looked down at my feet.
“Yeah so I was raped….” I quickly stole a glance at Logan who closed his eyes for a second in pain and then gave a gentle nod for me to continue. “Damon and his cousin, Tanner, picked me up and I knew something was wrong but I… froze. Don’t be mad. Please. I’m sorry. I knew I should have called you Logan. I just froze. I couldn’t think…” Logan grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. It was his way of telling me it wasn’t my fault. It didn’t change how I felt, but it stopped my rambling.
“After that I really don’t remember much. We pulled up to an abandoned Mexican restaurant. I hit my chin on the ground and then it all went fuzzy. I promise. I’m not lying. I swear!”
“I know Day. I know.”
Logan squeezed my hand again and then let go and put a cookie in it. I looked at it and tried to shoot Logan a half smile, but I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“I’m tired. Can you talk to the staff about me going home now?”
Logan searched me for a second with his gaze and then nodded. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it again. I’d never seen Logan unsure before, but it was very clear in that moment he had no clue what to do.
“I love you Dana. I hope you know that. I really do. I know I’m busy and stuff but… you are my best friend.”
“Same.”
He shot me a sad smile and then walked out. This was one thing I knew would go my way that day. Logan would make sure I got to go home.
Present Day: Chapter 2:
This is the part of my plan where I was supposed to question my decision and wonder where I was even going to begin. As I sat on the plane though, I’d never felt surer of myself. I knew Gunner, inside and out. I’d find him. I was sure of it.
I decided to head for his hometown in Missouri first. Gunner and I talked a lot about where he grew up. It was clear there was pain associated with that town, but he always spoke of it with high regard, unlike me and my hometown. I grew up in downtown LA and he grew up in the boondocks, surprisingly. There’s nothing about Gunner that screams country boy. The man is a wall, with a deep stoic stern voice, lots of tattoos and muscles that could intimidate the hell out of anyone. There is no country accent, no cowboy boots or cowboy hats and definitely no polite country boy manners.
Somehow, I was able to fall asleep on the way there. I woke up to the sound of the flight attendant telling us we had had arrived. I shook my head a few times and cleared my throat. The guy to my left threw me a dirty look. I ignored him and laughed when I noticed his girlfriend was wearing an ‘I love Logan Prescott’ bracelet. That stuff would never stop being weird to me, random strangers loving my brother. I was curious if they’d love him if they actually knew him. Honestly, probably. My brother was pretty great, especially now that Sam was in it and he wasn’t so selfish.
I got off the plane, went through the airport and got to my hotel with no trouble whatsoever. I felt weird about how eerily calm I was so far. I mean I had spent the better part of my life in treatment, a large portion of that stay focusing on anxiety and PTSD. I guess going after the person I love was worth any consequences that came my way. Bottom line, like Sam said, if and when I found Gunner he wouldn’t let anything happen to me no matter how pissed off he was.
I spent two days in town piddling around the city. I wasn’t really looking for Gunner yet, I was just trying to get a feel for everything. It was on the third day that I started taking my search more seriously. I first texted Gunner. I had to see if me being in Missouri would get a response from him. I wanted to make this whole thing as easy as possible. I’d tried texting him before and he hadn’t responded, but I knew it would be different now.
Me: Gunner, you’ve ignored my other five hundred other worried text messages but read this. It’s a warning. I’m in Missouri. If you are here please don’t make this complicated for me
. You owe me an explanation at least. - D
Nothing came back. I spent the next twenty-four hours driving around town and looking at spots Gunner had talked to me about; the diner he visited as a kid, the park he loved going to with his parents, the bookstore he frequently got in trouble at. The more I drove around the harder and harder it was to believe the tattooed criminal I knew went to these places. The diner was small and friendly. A lady in her mid-70’s greeted me and bought me a free muffin. As I sat in the tiny booth I thought about Gunner’s description of this place. It was three years ago that he’d talked with me about it. I savored every word.
“I used to go to Ray’s Diner and Donuts every weekend,” he said gruffly as he scratched at the material on his ripped faded jeans.
“They always hired elderly folk and I found it amusing. I got free muffins and coffee every time I popped in there and this lady, Reggie they called her, would always give me a speech about being a “good boy”. She’s definitely looking down at me from heaven right now pissed as hell.”
Gunner tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but I saw the pain and regret flicker in his eyes.
“Even by the age of twelve I was too big for the booths. My knees went up past my hips in the seat and it fucking annoyed me. Something kept me going back there though. I miss it.”
He mumbled the last part as if embarrassed.I didn’t say anything in return. I just stared at him and wondered what the hell had happened to him. Clearly, the criminal instinct was always there, but why had he acted on it when he knew better? I brushed my hair back behind my ears and fiddled with the earring that got caught in my pin straight blonde hair. Gunner and I somehow were able to talk without words. If I’d said something back in that moment it would have annoyed him. He knew I got it.
I was instantly snapped out of the memory when my cell phone started buzzing. Please don’t be Sam. Or Logan. Or Alexa. Please be Gunner. Please. I nervously picked up my phone and clicked the text message box.
Gunner: Go home Dana. -G
We always ended our texts with our first initial. I don’t know why. He started it. Even though we were obviously both saved in each other’s phones the initial thing just sort of stuck. It became our thing. It was that one initial that let me know we weren’t over. You see Gunner told me why he put the initial there the in the first place. He didn’t want me saving his number in his phone for my safety. Of course, I did it anyway. Even when he realized I wasn’t going to listen to him we continued doing it. Even when we got to the point of recognizing each other's numbers we didn’t stop. It’s our thing.
Me: No. -D
I waited. I knew he’d text back. I was just glad to have his attention again. Especially since I’d used some of my savings without Logan’s knowledge, and flew halfway around the country to see him.
Gunner: It’s a warning. -G
Me: I don’t take well to those… in case you haven’t noticed. -D
I waited again. My foot was bouncing around a hundred miles a minute. The waitress came over and asked me a question. I snapped at her. I instantly felt bad. It wasn’t her fault I was in love with another asshole. I apologized and made a mental note to leave her a big tip.
Gunner: Fine. I warned you. I did my part for an OLD friend. I'm not even there anymore D. I’ve already left Missouri. -G
I immediately picked up my phone to text him back, but his text stung too much. I closed my eyes tight for a second trying to reign in the heartache. It didn’t work so instead I stuffed the muffin down my throat and swallowed the soda I’d ordered in one long gulp. I then ordered a cheeseburger and ate that too. I almost ordered dessert on top of that but decided maybe binging wasn’t the best course of action here. Damn though, I really wished it was. I finally picked up my phone again, my feelings, along with my body, heavily sedated from all the food.
Me: What danger? - D
No response. I drove back to my hotel. No response. Ugh, fuck him! I waited three hours. No response. I slammed the book I was reading on the counter and picked up my phone again.
Me: WHAT FUCKING DANGER GUNNER?!!
No initial. No nothing. Fuck him. What danger was I in? Two whole hours later a text came back.
Gunner: Enough to where I am telling you that you need to go home.
No initial. He was pissed too.
Me: Clearly not that much danger since it’s taken you like five whole freaking hours to get back to me!
Gunner: Fuck you Dana.
Me: Fuck me? Fuck me? No, FUCK YOU GUNNER! I’m not going home.
I didn’t even really curse all that much. He was just bringing this out of me. You could always can count on a man with very little moral consciousness to bring out the best in you. Along this train of thought I decided I wasn’t done texting him.
Me: Wouldn’t this be easier in person? If I am in danger I mean…. seriously. -D
Gunner: I told you. I’m not in Mourssi. -G
Me: Where the hell are you? -D
Gunner: Dana, go home. I’m not kidding. -G
Me: Neither am I. -D
Gunner: Befriending you was a mistake. My mistake. I’m truly sorry. This is my last text. - G
Fire shot through my heart and I bit back tears. NO! He was not done texting me. I still had something over his head.
Me: Sure whatever. What danger am I in? There’s NO WAY you can’t respond to that. Are you going to let someone else rape me? Am I in that kind of danger? – D
Okay so that was a low blow. I’ll never forget the day I told Gunner I was raped. I told him my story in parts over time. I didn’t just spill it all on him. First was the rape. It was in the third year of knowing him. Gunner threw a lamp across the room. This was the first time he had touched me in a way that was slightly more than friends. He grabbed both of my arms and pinned them to my sides tightly. He looked me in the eyes as his jaw twitched in fury. Then let me go and stormed out of the room. I let him leave. He apologized, and we hung out the next day. He didn’t say anything, but he became extremely protective of me after that.
A text came back. I knew it would.
Sam: Call me now.
My heart melted. I literally felt my whole-body droop. If there hadn’t been a bed under me I would have fallen to the floor. He didn’t text me after that. He meant it. He really was done. I fell into my pillow and cried. What was I doing in flipping Missouri getting eaten by mosquitos in a random hotel. What was I doing? How come I never made good choices? How come I never loved anyone who loved me back. Emma Watson was right in ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower’, I guess we really do accept the love we think we deserve. Ironic it came from a character named Sam.
Thirty minutes into my pity party and three texts from Sam later I knew I had to call her. Mainly because she said she’d involve Logan if I didn’t call her back within the hour. Reluctantly, I picked up the phone and dialed her number.
“Yeah,” I said flatly.
She wasn’t the person I wanted to talk to. Usually she’d give me a quick witty comeback, but she didn’t today. Her response came back firm and immediate.
“Gunner called me.”
I immediately sat up.
“What? When? Where? How?... What?” I asked in one breath. Gunner called her???
“Like thirty minutes ago. What the hell is going on?”
I could hear Sam slamming a door and Jazmine shrieking in the background.
“What did he say? Tell me Sam! Tell me!”
“That you need to come home. He told me to convince you to come home. What’s going on? Are you in trouble? Gunner sounded….”
“Gunner sounded what?” I interrupted, concerned.
“Really fucked up. I don’t know. He sounded… scared? I’ve never seen Gunner scared. Never, and I went with him on drug trades. He never once so much as flinched.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I stayed quiet as I processed what she said. I also thought about the fact that that asshole had found a way to get back to me without
actually texting me like he said he wouldn’t.
“Dana, I think we should tell Logan. I just think it’s…”
“No!” I snapped. “No. Not until I know what’s going on.”
“I can respect that but if something happens to you….”
“It won’t.”
“That’s not what Gunner made it sound like. He’s in real trouble Day. I don’t think he’s here because he’s tired of Nashville.”
“Shit. Shit.”
“I know.”
“I’m not leaving him Sam. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“I know.” I could almost see her pursing her lips on the other end of the phone. “What’s your plan?”
“I don’t know, but I’m really tired.”
She sighed. “I’ll let you go. I won’t tell Logan for today. We’ll talk tomorrow. But Dana, lock your doors. Close your window. Put a chair in front of your door and sleep with a knife by your bed.”
“Okay, I will. I promise.”
She seemed slightly relieved by this, but still extremely nervous. Sam’s paranoia has been palatable since her attack. I’m sure all the things she listed for me to do she does every night, even though she sleeps with my brother and has a full security team at her house.
“Love you Sam.”
“I care about you so much Day. You know that.”
Sam rarely, if ever, said I love you. It was still really hard for her. Logan’s helped a lot, but between how screwed up she was from being tortured and her mom’s life being on the line her whole childhood, love was terrifying to Sam. A huge risk she couldn’t always justify making.
Sometimes I wished I was a little more afraid of it.
Present Day: Chapter 3:
I woke up the next morning feeling heavy. My eyes were puffy from crying and I felt the familiar sense of pessimism overtaking over my body. I rolled over and looked at the clock, 10AM. I didn’t care. I let myself sleep in. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. There was no sense in being ‘up and at ‘em’.