by Sophia Henry
The sheet pulled taut in my hands when I clenched my fists; I’d release it and brawl topless if I needed to. “No. She does not deserve that, no matter if it was her original intention or not. Is that what you guys do?”
Landon tried to put his hands on my shoulders, but I shrugged him away. He then placed a hand on my leg instead.
“As far as I know, none of my teammates have ever done that. I’m just trying to make a point, Gaby. And I guess I’m doing a really horrible job of it. I’m trying to say no, she doesn’t deserve it. And if a girl who was clearly following us for that reason doesn’t deserve it, why would you ever think that drinking at a party makes you at fault for what happened?”
“Drinking isn’t always involved,” I said, unwilling to give up the fight yet.
“I know. There’s this stereotype that all men are just sitting around waiting to rape someone. If a woman provokes us, we jump on her. It’s not true. Most of us know right from wrong. We know how to treat women. We know that the prick who raped you needs to have his head bashed in and be put in jail.”
I looked down at the comforter, which was entirely black except for a deep red rectangular block near the bottom. His bed screamed sex. His naked torso, with its cut lines defined from hours in the gym and even more hours on the ice, screamed sex. And I ruined his night by opening up about what a naive idiot I’d been.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about that horrible night three years ago. I’d wanted to be honest because I knew he thought I was a virgin. And he would try to be gentle and careful, and boring. Which makes me sound like I’m looking for something wild, and I’m not. I just wanted normal. Regular. An experience with someone I loved to help me forget the memory of my real first time. Whether or not I’d had sex before wasn’t his business, I’d just wanted to be honest. Wasn’t honesty the key to a long-lasting relationship?
Honesty. Trust.
A boyfriend with seven-pack abs.
“I need to hear your internal monologue, because my comforter’s not that interesting.”
“He did get his head bashed in.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s a huge complicated situation.”
“How is it complicated? You tell your parents. You go to the police and press charges on the motherfucker.”
If only life were that easy. I laid back down on the bed next to him. The warmth of his heart radiated from his skin.
“You can trust me, Gaby. Nothing you say to me will leave these walls.”
I trusted Landon. No doubt in my mind. But rape was a hard subject to discuss with anyone at any time. No matter how much you love or trust someone, it’s not easy to explain the horrible, invisible scarlet letter over my vagina.
“I told my parents. And, well, let me back up. The guy who did it, he’s a family friend. He’s part of the family that we buy our produce from. Our families are so intertwined, it’s like the women are my aunts and the men are my uncles. I thought of him as a cousin, or at least a friend.”
Landon reached over and caressed my face, his large hand soothing and giving me strength to continue.
Outside of my immediate family and my doctor, no one knew what happened that night. Not even Michelle. I knew my intuitive best friend sensed something had happened to me, but she never asked and I’d been too embarrassed at my lack of common sense to tell her.
Instead of telling anyone, I locked the experience inside and threw away the key, promising myself I’d never, ever get myself in that situation again. Which meant I hadn’t touched alcohol since. Or been to any parties. Or been on any dates. I’d lived my final two years of high school as a spinster.
“I told my parents. And they believed me, but my grandfather told them we had to talk to the guy’s family before they went to the police. Because he thought going to the police without letting them know what happened would be bad for business.”
“Are you kidding me?” Landon removed his hand from my cheek, but I grabbed it and put it back. The tender touch of his hand gave me courage and confidence.
“The Mitchells didn’t believe me, of course. They asked me why Jared would ever do that when he thought of me as a sister. They called me a liar. A slut. A drunk whore.” My breathing increased while I repeated the vile names they’d called me, as if I were a random person they’d never met, instead of the girl they’d known since birth and treated like family.
“What?”
“They told my grandfather that if I went to the police, they would stop deliveries immediately and sever all ties.”
“Who gives a shit? Any farm in the country would kill for that contract.”
“Yeah, well, it’s different when you have great-grandfathers who came to the country together and started a business together, and grandfathers who continued that business. It’s not shady Mafia-type stuff. I think my grandfather just thought of the situation as something that didn’t warrant losing our long-standing relationship.”
“Fuck him.”
“Yeah, that’s how I felt. I’ve barely talked to Nonno in three years. It’s actually a sad situation. I doubt he even realizes I avoid him and only talk to him out of respect. Papa barely talks to him, either. But they have to communicate for the business. So it’s harder.”
“I can’t believe your own family put their business ahead of you.”
“You can’t? I told you about the archaic ways of Bertucci Produce.”
“I didn’t realize looking the other way after their daughter was raped was included in archaic ways. You deserve to have family who treats you better than that.”
“Yeah, well. That’s life. Now I know why girls don’t come forward. Even if they do, they may have family who protects other people rather than the victim.”
“Is that why your parents started Three-one-three?”
“Hmm?”
“To distance themselves from your grandfather? To have their own business without ties to him?”
“I—” I paused, momentarily speechless. “I don’t—I never thought of that. I just thought it was a place for Mom to sell her paintings.”
Had my parents started 313 to get away from Nonno and the Mitchell family? No. They’d never pour their life savings into a store with a huge probability of failing in an increasingly downward Detroit economy just for me. As their daughter, I ranked high on the priority list, and I knew they loved me, but there were times when I wasn’t convinced I ranked higher than the family business.
As if he understood my contemplative silence regarding his last question, Landon didn’t speak. Instead he swept my hair back, letting his fingers slide through the locks, combing gently when they caught a snarl of waves. The light tug jolted me back to the present and I lifted my eyes tentatively.
“So who kicked the guy’s ass?”
“Drew and a few of his hockey teammates. The party was a random one on Drew’s campus, not a hockey party, but a lot of his teammates were there. I’d gone with my big brother, his teammates, and a guy who I thought of as family. I trusted my entourage completely. I had no worries about drinking, though I shouldn’t have had so much so fast.”
“It’s not your fault.” Landon punctuated his point by leaning over and placing a soft kiss on my head.
“After the talk with the kid’s family, and Nonno deciding his granddaughter wasn’t worth severing business ties, Drew took justice upon himself. He and a few of his teammates beat the crap out of him. And guess what happened?”
Landon’s head tilted in question, but he stayed silent.
“His family pressed charges against Drew. Only Drew.”
“What?” Landon bolted onto his elbow. “That’s fucked up. That’s so fucked up!”
I nodded. “But you know what’s really fucked up? The kid graduated later that year and started working for his family. Driving the delivery truck. And for some reason they never explained, they moved our deliveries from the morning to the afternoon, when I was at the store working after school. I had to see him al
most every single day. And he just laughed and smiled, like nothing ever happened. He even asked me to prom.”
“No.”
“Yeah.” I shuddered at the memory and inched closer for Landon’s warmth. The good guy. The guy who would never hurt me.
“What the fuck, Gaby?” Landon noticed my subtle scoot and lowered himself back to the bed. Then he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me against his chest.
I inhaled his skin, the mix of cologne and sweat relaxing me into a sense of peace after discussing one of the most horrific parts of my life. But not the most horrific. I don’t know if I’d ever admit that to Landon.
“I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just wanted to be honest with you and it turned into this big huge talk about rape and horrible men and puck bunnies and I am such a buzzkill.”
“You are not a buzzkill,” Landon said. “You are strong and amazing and I can’t believe all this happened and I never knew.”
“How could you know?”
“I would’ve noticed a change in your personality. I’ve been to one of your stores every week for almost my entire life. Except when I was in Oshawa.”
Before I could answer, Landon put the pieces together.
“It happened while I was in Oshawa, didn’t it?”
Chapter 14
When I nodded, my forehead rubbed against his chest, creating a friction and warmth that I wanted to feel on lower parts of my body.
“I would’ve beat his face in. I’ll still beat his face in. I can’t believe I wasn’t around.”
“It’s not like you would have known even if you had been around. We barely knew each other.”
A low growl rattled in the back of his throat.
“I just meant that I wouldn’t have rung up a purchase by saying, ‘That’ll be fifteen dollars and forty-two cents—by the way, did you know I was raped last week?’ ”
Landon pressed his forehead against mine. We closed our eyes and breathed together.
I slipped a hand in between our meshed bodies, sliding my fingers over his upper thigh before skimming them toward the front.
Landon’s body immediately responded. Good and bad. Good because he responded below the waist, where I’d been reaching. Bad because he grabbed my hand and pulled it back up.
“I’m really into you, Gaby. But we aren’t having sex tonight. Our first time together will be passionate and memorable, not marred by the thought of that guy. I’d put him in the fucking hospital if I ever met him.”
“I’ll always be marred by him.” The words came out spiteful and bitter.
“Tonight we sleep. Just sleep.” Landon tightened his hold. “I want to hold you until you forget that asshole.”
For the first time since being in Landon’s arms, the feeling of complete safety eluded me.
I’d never forget “that asshole” because I thought of him every morning when I swallowed the antidepressant I wouldn’t have needed to take if I’d never met him. I’d never forget him because I’d worked with him and his family every day since I started working at the stores. I’d never forget him because being betrayed by someone you think of as a family member is not something you forget.
I’d never forget him because his actions led me to the night I almost killed myself. But I couldn’t tell Landon that part of the story. Telling him I’d been raped had to happen or our physical relationship couldn’t continue. But I couldn’t tell him about antidepressants and a suicide attempt. Who wants to date the crazy girl?
I couldn’t tell Landon any of that. Instead, I said, “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
“Gabriella, this is not about me. It’s about us.”
Landon’s feelings for me warmed me and chipped away at a wall that I had built up for three years. Not all men were about taking advantage of a girl. And though I was ready to have sex with him, I appreciated that he understood my hesitation and didn’t want to rush it. It made me see him in a totally different light.
Landon shimmied farther below the comforter and I followed suit. I snuggled against the length of his body, my head on his bare chest, my hand over his heart. His words, which I’d missed in my pathetic apology, ran through my mind.
“But you’re still into me, right?” I asked into his skin, unable to look up in case I hadn’t heard him correctly after all. “I didn’t ruin your feelings?”
“Totally into you.” He brushed his hand up and down my back. A soothing, not sexual, caress. Well, it was semi-sexual, since we were lying in his bed, with nothing but my silky black undies between us.
I let that sink in for a moment.
Landon kissed the top of my head and I tilted my neck to look at him. When our eyes met, I whispered, “I’m totally into you, too.”
“If you ask really, really nice, I may be coerced into kissing you.” A smile spread across his lips and his eyes twinkled with mischief.
I pushed myself onto my elbow, testing his self-restraint with a full view of my chest. “Kiss me.”
“Was that nice?” he asked. Then he blew lightly on my exposed breasts. A shiver rippled up and down the length of my body.
“I’m past the point of being nice, Landon. I’m not afraid with you. I know what I want and I’m totally sober.”
Landon ignored me, sticking with his original mission. “Someone who wants something usually uses the word please at some point. But if you’re going to tease, I can tease, too.”
I thought he’d blow on my chest again, since he could see the effect the warm air had on my cool skin. But he didn’t. Instead he leaned over and licked my left nipple, which made me laugh.
“What?” he asked, surprised by my reaction.
“That tickled.” The bed shook with another misplaced giggle.
“Oh?” He placed his hands on my waist and held me still. Repeating his lick, but on the right this time. At the touch of his tongue, my torso jolted forward, but his strong hands held me firm. “Ready to be nice?”
“Nope.” I shook my head. What else could he possibly do?
“Why are you making this hard for me, Gabriella?”
I laughed at his words, confirming that I had the maturity of a thirteen-year-old boy when it came to my sense of humor. “Fine. Will you please kiss me?”
“Yes.” Landon pushed me back before he whipped the comforter off us, sending it to the bottom of the bed. Then he placed one leg on either side of my body and kneeled above me. Landon Taylor’s full-frontal left me breathless and eager for what he’d do next. I waited, almost hyperventilating in anticipation for him to bring his mouth to mine. Instead he sat back on his calves and lowered his head. Nowhere near my mouth.
“Landon?”
“You asked me to kiss you. I decide where.” He leaned down and kissed the inside of my left thigh. Then he turned his head and nipped the inside of my right thigh with his teeth. And if the kiss and nip weren’t enough to make me explode, he blew a steady stream of air between my legs before he placed his mouth directly on top of my underwear and raked his tongue against the wet, silky fabric.
“Landon.” I gasped his name as my breathing came hard and fast. Something else would come hard and fast if he kept flicking his tongue in that spot.
He lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine. “Not okay?”
“It’s okay. It’s just, um.”
I’d already set aside my fears about Landon. I trusted him. I knew he wouldn’t go too far before I was ready.
Because my virginity had been taken without my consent, my mind buzzed with questions and fears about my lack of experience in all things sexual. This was how my first time should have been: lying next to Landon, the person I’d dreamed about being with. Yet here I was, awash in memories and doubt. And I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I wasn’t a complete sheltered idiot. I knew the mechanics of sticking Part A into Slot B. But no one’s mouth had ever been where Landon’s had just been, and it freaked me out. I wanted to stick with the basics.
“I’ve ne
ver done that. I don’t know if I’d like it.”
Landon’s mouth twisted, and he couldn’t stop his smile. “Well, I’d bet my car that you’d like it, but I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“I—” As I contemplated, I squirmed beneath him. Landon licked his lips. His eyes had found mine when he’d looked up, but he hadn’t moved his head, so he was still resting between my legs. And I still felt his heavy, excited breath.
“Do you want to try?”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling and took a deep breath. His mouth felt incredible. His kisses felt incredible. Even a stream of air on my skin felt incredible.
Conflicting emotions.
Scared. Excited.
Embarrassed. Comfortable.
I lowered my eyes back to the kind, honest, gorgeous man between my legs. He hadn’t moved one sculpted muscle as he patiently waited for my permission.
“Yes.” I let out a breath hoping it would carry my tension and embarrassment with it.
Landon quirked his lips and lowered his head.
Chapter 15
“I got you a press pass for tonight.” Landon stood next to the bed and handed me a black lanyard with a white plastic rectangle dangling from the end.
“A press pass? What for?” I glanced at the pass, surprised to see my headshot already laminated on the card. Where had he gotten a picture of me?
“So you can take photos at the game. I thought it would be good practice. Ya know, moving targets. Awesome subjects.” He winked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him, hoping that squeezing my chest to his would keep my heart inside. The way it was beating reminded me of a mini race car that might jump out and take a few laps around a fictional track.
The Detroit Pilots in action. Perfect male specimens skating and sweating and spinning and scoring. My own photos. No copyright infringement.
“This is completely amazing. Thank you.” I pulled away slightly so I could reach up and kiss his lips. Landon responded immediately, wrapping his arms around me and parting my lips with his tongue. His persistence made me wish he didn’t have to leave for practice. But then again that was probably a good thing, since every time we touched I wanted to take it further. And further.