by Amy Starling
“C'mon, drink it all down! This is your night to party.”
Well, the beer was frosty the way I liked it. I gulped; they cheered. In a few minutes, my head felt full of cotton, like it did when I'd worked my way through a twelve pack. But I hadn't drank that much. Had I?
They danced more, closer and closer. Another beer came. Soon, my body felt heavy, as if weighed down by a thousand bricks. Even when two girls sat at my sides, pawing all over me, I was too weak to resist.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Oh, he looks tired,” purred Cocoa.
“Yeah, maybe I am.” I tried pushing her away. My arm didn't want to move. “I think... Think I've had enough for now, ladies. I really gotta go find my friends.”
She put another drink to my lips. I accepted it without knowing why. It was almost like my brain just couldn't say no.
“Don't you worry about your friends, Max. They'll be just fine.”
Lola returned to the room looking very upset. “My boyfriend ditched me here,” she exclaimed. “He was my ride home.”
“Uh... Sorry to hear that.”
She brightened. “Hey, Max, do you think you can give me a ride? I only live a few blocks away, but I simply can't be walking home dressed like this in such a neighborhood.”
I didn't know why I said yes. Didn't know why I shuffled down the side hall with her toward the back exit, like a zombie.
And that's where my memory of the night ended.
I woke up with a massively aching head and the worst case of cotton mouth ever. Light hurt my eyes. In fact, everything seemed to hurt.
“Uh, guys? That must have been some party,” I muttered.
When the cool morning breeze blew across my naked body and sharp blades of grass pricked my back, I realized something was very wrong.
Despite the agony I was in, I forced myself to sit up and look around. The guys were nowhere to be found. I wasn't in the club anymore. I wasn't even indoors.
I was lying on the side of the highway in a ditch, and yes, just as I feared, my clothes were all gone. My car was parked just up ahead, the doors open and engine still running.
Cuts and bruises covered my body in random spots, as if I'd fallen out of the car while it was going forty miles per hour.
I'd never been so confused in my life.
“How the hell did I end up here?” I jogged to the car, one hand over my crotch so as not to frighten any unsuspecting drivers. “Did I get robbed?”
Angry and scared that I let this happen to me, I sank into the safety of my car and slammed the door.
My clothes from last night waited for me in a crumpled pile in the passenger's seat. As I hurried to put them on, I found my wallet in the back pocket of my pants. Nothing in it had been taken.
I drove back to my apartment, rattled beyond words as I tried to piece together how I got here. I was at that party with the boys. Those strippers pulled me away for a “dance.” They kept feeding me beer and rubbing all over me.
Then... That one girl, Lola, needed a ride home. Beyond that? Nothing. Just a blank, black hole where memories should have been.
“What in the fuck?”
I pounded the steering wheel. Wasn't sure whether to be furious or terrified. Was this a mess of my own making? Did I get totally black-out drunk and drive myself into a ditch? Things like this, sadly, had happened to me before.
But no, that was dumb. I had what, maybe six beers? To a guy of my bulk, that was nothing. Except I did recall feeling fuzzy in the head after just three.
And getting drunk didn't explain why I was naked in a ditch. Where did Lola go? Whatever happened to her?
I reached my apartment complex in record time. Just as I pulled into my assigned spot, a pair of police cruisers caught my eye. They were parked right in front of my unit.
I got out of the car. Two cops waited for me on my balcony.
Oh, shit.
I swallowed hard, fought my fear, and walked slowly up the steps. The men turned and looked me up and down.
“Are you Max McLaren?”
“That's me, officer. How can I help you?”
He whirled me around and shoved me against the balcony so hard, my ribs might have broke. If I weren't in such shock, I would have swung at him, cop or not.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he snarled. “You're under arrest for the alleged sexual assault of Lola Martinez.”
Sexual assault?
“Hey, now, what are y'all talking about?” He slapped cuffs around my wrists too tight. “I didn't assault anybody. What kind of asshole do you take me for?”
“We don't take you for anything, son.” The chubbier cop grabbed my arm and pulled me downstairs. “We're bringing you in for questioning. If you're really innocent, you got nothing to worry about.”
“But I am innocent! Get your paws off me right this instant! I got no time for this. I'm getting married in three days.”
The cop snorted. “Unfortunately, you'll have to put your wedding on hold. This could take a while.”
I found myself in a police car once again, right after I vowed to be a good man for Anna. Oh, God, Anna! What was she going to think?
“I don't know what happened, but I didn't do anything wrong.”
“That's what they all say.”
Pure fear filled my veins. What if the cops were right? I couldn't recall last night, after all. What if I really had done something terrible?
I thought of Anna's pretty face, of how good she was to me. Maybe I never should have left Bastrop. Maybe I should have stayed there, in her arms, forever.
If I ever got out of this mess, I swore I'd run right back to her and never leave.
Chapter 21 - Anna
Two days left until the wedding. I couldn't wait for this whole thing to be over with.
Mom had taken control over everything, as she did. She demanded to choose what dresses the bridesmaids wore, where we held the reception, what food would be served... On and on it went.
“No, we can't hang crepe paper from the windows. That would look utterly tacky.”
We toured the reception hall with a five-star wedding decorator she'd hired on dad's dime, desperate to fix some last-minute “mistakes” the first one had made. The two of them walked ahead of me, with mom dictating her desires and the decorator nodding as she furiously wrote it all down in her notebook.
I trailed behind, sipping my bottled water and missing Max.
Last night had been the bachelor party dad bought for him. He'd called me before he left to chat about our day, but he hadn't mentioned the party, and so neither did I. I hadn't heard a word from him since.
Of course, I worried.
“Gracious, not those bulky, ugly goblets. Those frumpy things are for cavemen. The gold-lipped champagne flutes are much more refined.”
“Yes, Mrs. Southwell. You're absolutely right. Although it might be difficult ordering so many on such short notice.”
This whole thing stressed me out, and that wasn't good for the baby. That's exactly what Max would have said.
Boy, I wished he was here.
Nobody noticed me slip outside. The hot, dry, late summer air felt nice after freezing in that cold building for hours.
“I just can't do this anymore, Trey.”
I caught the middle of a heated conversation between Rachael and Trey. They were sitting on the patio, taste-testing a variety of foods for the reception dinner. Rachael threw her fork down and started to cry.
“Babe, what's wrong? You've been acting so weepy and depressed for weeks now.”
Trey put an arm around her. She shrugged it off.
“It's not fair,” she wailed. “I want to get married, too. You and I have been dating for six years, and we haven't even gotten engaged yet.”
Poor Trey looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Well, uh, I thought you were happy with the way we were. I know I'm very happy...”
“I want a ring!”
I
had to laugh. She wanted a ring? What about me?
Yeah, my left hand was devoid of an engagement ring. Max hadn't bought me one, nor had he ever officially proposed.
But of course he didn't, right? He didn't have to; that was silly. Why bother proposing when dad pretty much made the decision for me?
“Ray, this isn't a good time,” Trey said softly. “Can we at least try to be happy for your sister?”
“Are you delusional?” She laughed at him. “Their whole relationship is a sham, and you know it. I don't understand why nobody else seems to notice. I mean, you seriously think Max of all guys actually wants to settle down?”
“What he does isn't my business. If he's satisfied, and if he treats Anna good, that's all I care about.”
“Treats her good? C'mon, Trey. He's your brother. You know how he is.” She stabbed her salmon with the fork. “He's not coming back here.”
“You don't know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
I was about to carefully inject myself in their conversation – Trey looked like he needed backup – when dad's screaming-red Corvette whipped into the parking lot.
He had a lot of cars, but I always hated that one the most. It was the kind of car a man bought for his midlife crisis after leaving his wife for an eighteen-year-old college girl.
Dad stepped out, his face grim. He carried with him a thick yellow envelope and strode directly to me.
“I'm afraid Max got himself into some trouble last night, Anna.”
“Trouble?”
“Yes. He's been arrested.”
A combination of shock and the sweltering heat made me dizzy and faint. I slumped into the bench, thinking surely this had to be a joke on dad's part.
“What do you mean? Where is he?”
Dad sighed. “He's at the Waco Police Department currently. They're investigating him for sexually assaulting a young woman.”
It was so ridiculous that I had to laugh. Dad didn't, though. His expression remained flat, almost emotionless.
“I said I would give him a chance. I gave him a test to prove himself – and he failed.”
“No, this is insane. He would never assault a woman.”
Would he? I figured the very worst he'd do would maybe be hit up a strip club with his friends. I disliked the idea, but it was sort of a bachelor-party tradition, so I made myself accept it, if somewhat begrudgingly.
“Sadly, I have proof that Max isn't the good man you think he is.” He cracked open the envelope. “This is why I paid for the party. I had eyes on him there. Friends of mine who were glad to do me this favor to save you a lifetime of pain.”
In the envelope was a stack of photos. The very first one showed Max and his buddies, drinks in hand as they ogled topless girls on a stage. It certainly looked like he was having a good time. Seeing him check out other girls made me anxious, but I expected this much.
“This is the tamest of them all.” He flipped to the next. “Just how far would he go, do you suppose? How well do you really think you know him?”
In this one, there was a half-naked girl sitting on his lap. He didn't look very eager to push her away. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying the attention.
“I told you so, Anna. That boy is nothing but trouble. He's always been a man-whore, and he always will be.”
Rachael stood nearby, looking very pleased with herself. Trey tried to pull her away, but she wasn't having it.
There were many more pictures like those. In them, Max seemed to be getting more and more drunk. One photo showed two women straddling him on either side. In the next, a girl had her chest right in his face.
“This is the sort of thing that goes on at bachelor parties,” I protested. “I mean, they're dancers. I don't like it, but it happens. It's not like he's cheating on me.”
Rachael smirked as dad handed me the rest of the pictures. I worked through them with trembling hands. I wished I could stop, but I couldn't. It was like staring at a horrible traffic accident, unable to take my eyes away.
Then, the location of the photos changed. Max was in someone's home, it looked like. His friends were gone. Several women from the strip club were happily rubbing all over him. His eyes were half-shut, and he looked almost asleep.
“What is this?” I whispered.
“I paid one of the dancers at Saint Claire's to document his night. Evidently, Max got very drunk. When a woman named Lola asked him for a ride home, he accepted. This was taken at her apartment.”
He drove a girl home smashed out of his mind? What was he thinking?
“Just like the fire truck incident,” Rachael went on. “Not only is he a drunk, he drives while totally hammered. He endangers other people, sis. How can you trust him around the baby?”
“Back at her apartment, a few of the other dancers showed up. Things apparently got a bit hot and heavy.”
The photos showed Max in various stages of undress, with three naked beauties hanging all over him. It seriously made my stomach turn.
Dad continued. “After they were all done partying, the other girls went home, leaving Max and Lola alone.” He took a deep breath. “She said he wanted more out of her. Wanted to do perverted things, but she refused. He got very angry and attacked her.”
“No he didn't! Stop saying such awful things!”
He pulled out some other pictures. In them, this girl had a nasty black eye, scratches, and bruises all over her body. She'd photographed her arm, too. There were bruises around her wrist in the shape of a man's hand.
No, no. This couldn't be real! It had to be a horrible, disgusting prank. Max was a sweet, gentle man. He'd never hit a woman. He would never...
“He forced himself on her.” Dad's voice cracked. “Anna, this man is a demon. I hate to say it, but I'm glad this happened as it did. Imagine if you found out how he truly was after the wedding.”
Even Rachael looked stunned all of a sudden. “Jeez. I knew he was a no-good cheating bum, but this? I can't believe it.”
“She's lying,” I blurted. “She has to be. I don't know why, but they'll find that out. The cops and doctors, they have ways of getting the truth.”
Dad sighed and put the pictures away. “She sought medical attention almost immediately after it occurred. The doctor has already examined her. He's determined that yes, an assault did occur. And... They also found traces of Max's semen on her body.”
I spun around and vomited into the bushes. Rachael patted my back and pretended to care.
“The evidence says it all, I'm afraid. Given his prior criminal record, he's being held without bail until his trial.”
My frail mind, now near its breaking point, struggled to come up with an explanation. A reason, any at all, that this could have happened. I could deny it all I wanted, but to find his semen on her was, sadly, something no one could argue with.
Trey wrapped me in a hug as I bawled my eyes out. He looked just as shocked as I felt.
“This can't be real,” he murmured. “Max is a playboy, all right. And he does make dumb choices now and again. But he'd never hurt a woman. Never.”
“But then what happened, Trey? You heard what dad said.”
Mom came waddling outside, fanning herself, her face red and sweaty. “What is all this racket out here? Hillary and I are trying to focus on table settings.”
“There's no need to worry about that anymore,” Rachael volunteered. “Max is in jail, and he'll probably never get out from the sound of things.”
Mom gasped. “What? What on earth happened? Oh, I knew that boy was no good.”
When Rachael relayed the story, mom let out a mournful wail.
“Oh no, this is a disaster! Do you realize how many thousands we've spent on this wedding? All the guests will be here in two days!”
I gaped at her. “You're more upset about ruining the wedding than how I'm feeling? Really?”
She grunted. “You wouldn't understand. It's not your money, is it?”
“A disast
er, indeed,” dad said. “Max is morally bankrupt and a criminal, Anna. I will not allow you to marry him. In fact, I won't let you see him ever again.”
If he really had raped that girl, then dad's demand was fine by me. I wanted nothing to do with him, and I hoped he was punished to the fullest extent of the law.
But deep inside, I knew he was innocent – or at least, that's what I kept telling myself. Proving it, however, seemed hopeless.
“It would be devastating to the family, to me, if word got out about this. But canceling the wedding would be equally awful.” Dad had the nerve to smile. “That's why, fortunately for you, I've brought backup.”
He waved at his car. To my surprise, a slender, nicely-dressed man stepped out. He looked quite a bit older than me, with a few laugh lines on his forehead and a couple of grays mixed in with his blond hair.
The man smiled and stuck out his hand for me to take. Confused beyond all words, I silently took it and shook.
“Good to meet you, Anna. I'm Henry Lane. Your father has told me such wonderful things about you.”
That name sounded familiar... Wait a minute!
“Dad,” I growled. “You didn't.”
“The wedding will go on.” He beamed. “You'll marry Henry, and forget that depraved Max ever existed.”
“I'm not marrying him!”
Henry shushed me. “I realize this is very short notice, and no, we don't know each other very well. Luckily, we'll have plenty of time after the wedding for that.”
I fell back on the bench as mom howled with joy and shook his hand. It struck me then, harder than it ever had: my parents were the most uncaring, selfish, narcissistic people I had ever known. If Rachael were in my shoes, I bet they'd be fawning all over her with their sympathy.
“I've been looking to settle down for a while now with no luck,” Henry said, sitting way too close to me. “When your father offered you to me, I was thrilled. I have much to give in return, mind. A well-paying job, sizable retirement fund, a house with plenty of room for lots of little ones. I go to church every Sunday and love traveling. Have you ever been to Paris? I'll take you there for the honeymoon.”
They were all delusional, every one of them. Even Rachael seemed happy with the arrival of Henry, almost as if she'd been expecting it to happen. Trey stood to the side, completely thunderstruck.