Nondescript

by Rose, Ashley

  After looking around at a few houses, she picked the one that looked most like a college house. It had a motorcycle outside. She’d never seen him ride one but she was pretty sure this was where he lived.

  She knocked hard and waited until the door was answered by a boy she didn’t recognize. “Bishop,” she said.

  He frowned. “No, I’m Miles. Bishop is up in his room, I think.”

  “He’s expecting me,” she lied, pushing past him into the house. “Just point me toward his room.”

  “Oh, umm ok. Upstairs, last door on the right.”

  She took the stairs two at a time, her anger only growing as she half walked, half stomped down the hallway. The door at the end was partway open, and she shoved it the rest of the way so that it hit the wall. Bishop was at his desk, but jumped up and looked around when she made her entrance.

  “Jaz?” He stood up. “What are you doing here?”

  But she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what she wanted to say.

  He took a wary step toward her. “Is everything okay?”

  No. Everything was definitely not okay. And since she couldn’t think properly, she did the only thing that came naturally to her, no matter what mindset she was in. Taking two steps toward him, she shoved him hard, causing him to topple backwards onto his bed.

  He automatically tried to get back up again but hadn’t expected her to drop down on top of him, straddling his hips.

  “What?” His voice was panicked. “Jaz, stop!”

  But she grabbed the back of his head and laid a brutal kiss on his lips, crushing their mouths together and pushing her tongue between his lips. His hands pushed at her, and that just made her angrier. She pulled away and scraped her nails down his T-shirt.

  “Come on, Bishop. What’s wrong?” She ran her hands back up to touch his face. “I know you want this. Don’t deny it.” But the whole time, an inner voice was screaming at her, asking her what the hell she was doing.

  “Jaz, stop. I’m not okay with this.” He pushed her legs off his, but before he could push her to the side she wrapped her legs tightly around his once again and rolled them both over. “Oh, you want to be on top? Fine with me.”

  “No! What is wrong with you?” He tried to disengage her legs with shaky hands but she yanked him off balance and rolled them over again. This time her hands shoved his shirt up to expose his chest and abs.

  “Ah, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” She bent down to kiss his chest and he really started to freak out.

  “Stop it!” His hands shoved at her but she had a death grip on him with her legs and he wasn’t going anywhere. He was stronger than her, but he was panicked. She was just angry.

  She sat up and grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the bed. “Stop what, Bishop? I know you want this.”

  “No, Jaz. I don’t.” His voice shook worse than his hands.

  “Mmm, too bad,” she said cruelly, and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and over his head.

  “Stop!” He struggled to stop her but failed. She leaned down and kissed him again as he tried to stop her. She trailed her hands down his torso again and this time went all the way to his jeans before she sat up, tightening her grip on his legs when he struggled harder.

  She fended off his hands with one of hers while the other yanked at the button of his jeans. “Oh come on, Bishop. Don’t be a sissy. It’s just sex.”

  But when she got the button of his jeans open, he just panicked more and more and his struggles became less effective.

  She yanked down the zipper and started to push down the jeans. As she did, she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his stationary lips and then leaned further to hiss into his ear, “Do you think this is how she felt?” She yanked the zipper down. “Or was she so scared that she was crying?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Did she cry, Bishop?” she hissed softly. “Did she cry when you raped her?”

  There was a long pause, but then he spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

  She remained frozen for a second, but then the white hot anger melted away and she was just left with emotional exhaustion. She pushed off of him and rolled into a sitting position, putting her head in her hands.

  They remained that way for several minutes. She didn’t feel him move, and she stayed sitting, trying to process what had just happened. What had she been thinking?

  She pulled her head up and turned to look at him. He was still on his back, shirtless, jeans open, showing his boxer briefs, eyes unfocused and aimed at the ceiling. What was there to say at this point? Should she be leaving? Should she never talk to him again? She didn’t know what the proper course of action was. The things she had learned about him within the past hour contradicted everything she thought she knew about him from those hours she’d spent drawing him, and eventually, talking to him. The Bishop she knew wasn’t a rapist. He was one of the first guys in a long time who had not only been okay with being just friends with her, but had turned down a blatant offer for sex.

  “What is there to do in this situation? I don’t—” She cut herself off because she was truly at a loss for words. For what he’d done, for what she’d just done. None of it really made sense. “Am I supposed to hate you? I feel like I should. I mean... for god’s sake.” She stood up abruptly and crossed his room, pushing her hair back. “You’re a damn rapist.”

  He sat up slowly, still seeming dazed, and reached for his shirt. “You should hate me. Everyone else does,” he said quietly. “I do.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. I should. Wait. Don’t tell me what I should feel.”

  He sighed a long, tired breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re a rapist. You...a girl...against her will!”

  He nodded slowly and finally found the armholes to the shirt and started to put it back on.

  “You’re not going to deny it? Or try to justify it?”

  He looked up, meeting her eyes solidly with an incredibly sad and remorseful gaze. “There is no justification for rape.”

  “So why the hell did you do it?” She said it much louder than she expected, and she half regretted the tone.

  “I was young, and stupid, and addicted to drugs.”

  She blinked. “You’re an addict?”

  “I used to be.” He pulled the shirt down to cover his abs and then began to fasten his jeans.

  Watching his still shaking hands fumble with his jeans made Jaz feel sick at what she’d done. What had she been thinking? After what had happened to her, even if she didn’t remember, why did she go and do that to another person?

  But wait, didn’t he deserve it? He was a sex offender.

  So rapists deserve to be raped?

  That’s stupid.

  She shook her head violently to dislodge the back and forth conversation.

  “I just don’t understand. You’re so quiet and sad all the time I can’t imagine you—”

  “Well, I don’t anymore. It’s not a habit. It was just once.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Not that that’s an excuse. I just...I’m not that person anymore. I served time, and I’m doing everything I’m supposed to do. I went to rehab, and I...I tried to apologize. I haven’t...ever, since then.”

  “And you think that makes it all okay?”

  “No. It will never be okay. But it’s all I can do.”

  “So, you just befriend other rape victims to mind fuck them?” she snapped, her anger rising again.

  He looked up. “What are you talking about?”

  She snapped her mouth shut and remembered that she’d been the one stalking him, days before her rape. There was no way he could have known.

  But he must’ve been able to tell. “You...?”

  She didn’t respond, but her lack of response was just as solid as a yes.

  “Oh my god,” he said hurriedly, standing up. “Jaz, I—”

  She took an involuntary step back when he stood. He was taller than her, and apparently that was
enough to make her wary.

  He paused, speaking carefully. “I would never hurt you.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” she asked quietly.

  He swallowed visibly. “Just tell me what you want me to do. I’ll stay scarce on campus. I can avoid you, you don’t have to ever see me again, I’ll only leave for class and—”

  “I just don’t understand.”

  He hesitated before responding. “Don’t understand what?”

  “How you...this...” She waved her hand up and down his form. “How you could do that to another person, not the Bishop I know. Not...not the Snickers that I’ve drawn so many times.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve changed, but I don’t know if I believe I can really change on that level. I know that I didn’t used to believe it.”

  “And now?”

  “And now I...I think that I’ve tried hard enough, as hard as I can. If changing is possible, I’ve done it.”

  “But you don’t know?”

  He shook his head. “Is there a way to know?”

  That was a good question. “But you’re sorry? For what you did?”

  “Yes.” He closed his eyes said the word heavily, and she had no doubt that he meant it. “More than I can say.”

  “So you don’t have urges to do it again?”

  He eyes snapped open. “No. Never. I’m not a psychopath, I was just...an addict. A desperate, stupid, fucked up addict who would do anything for drugs. Just the thought of it makes me sick...the thought of sex at all makes me sick.”

  He sounds like a rape victim himself.

  “You mean, you’ve never...since...?”

  “It was four years ago.”

  “And you are...?”

  “Almost twenty-one.”

  She blinked, he was only sixteen at the time. “You were just a kid.”

  “So was she.” The sorrow in his voice was unmistakable.

  “Her brother. Travis. That’s how I found out. He saw my sketches.”

  Bishop blinked. “You know him?”

  “He goes to school here.”

  His eyes widened, and she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. “What? I didn’t...I’ve never seen him.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a big campus. Are you scared of him?” Travis was so well liked amongst his friends, she found it odd to see someone fear him.

  He raised a hand to his face and winced as if he had injuries there. “He beat me up. I deserved it but...yeah, I’m scared of him. He said he’d kill me if he ever saw me again.”

  “For what you did to his sister,” she stated.

  He sat back down on his bed slowly, putting his face in hands again. “Tess.”

  She shook her head and tried to straighten the whole thing out in her head again before speaking. “I still just don’t know what to say or do. Or not do.”

  “It’s not like I expect you to ever talk to me again...”

  “I never said I wasn’t going to talk to you again.” But should she? This was ridiculous, she shouldn’t even be here.

  “Why would you?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not saying it’s not going to change anything, because it is, for sure. But...it sounds like you’ve...I don’t know. I just know that you seem to be a perfectly nice guy, and I believe in second chances.”

  “I didn’t rob a convenience store, Jaz.” His head jerked up. “I raped someone. She was crying and begging me to stop, and I hit her, I hit her. I traumatized her. There’s no coming back from that.”

  She grimaced. “I don’t really need to hear details, Bishop.”

  “It’s just...you really shouldn’t be around me.”

  “You didn’t mind before.”

  “Yeah, but that was before you knew,” he said reluctantly.

  “But that doesn’t change the kind of person you were two hours ago,” she pointed out.

  “It doesn’t matter. You really shouldn’t be around me. Just go.”

  “No,” she snapped. “And don’t tell me what to do.”

  “Please.” He paced across the room, putting some distance between them.

  “Wait... Is that what this is about?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “It’s hard for you to be around me?”

  “No. Well...yes.” He paced back and forth. “I just don’t understand why you came here at all once you found out.”

  She looked down at her hands. “Well, that makes two of us, I guess.”

  He stopped and stood near the door, his arms wrapped around himself. They looked at each other, and then away, staying silent for several minutes.

  He took a deep breath. “I’m doing everything that I can. To atone. I know it will never be enough, but...if there is anything I can do for you...just tell me.”

  She looked up. “I want to be friends.”

  He cocked his head. “Why?”

  “Because if we become friends, and you turn out to be an okay person...I don’t know, that just makes it easier for me, I guess.”

  “I don’t think I get it,” he admitted. “But if you think it’ll help you...I’ll do it. I’ll be friends with you. I doubt I’m a very good friend though. I don’t have any.”

  “I think that we were getting there. Before this.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he admitted.

  She shrugged. “It’s not like we had deep conversations, and even if we did, it’s not exactly something that you can just bring up easily.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “So...friends? Or at least...start over?”

  “If it’s what you want.”

  “Yeah.” She took a deep breath. “I think it is.”

  32

  Rikke

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Consciousness drifted back to Rikke. She was on her back, on something soft. A bed. A dull pain throbbed over her entire body, but it was hazy, almost fake. She tried to figure out what was going on, but her mind was slow, like she’d been drugged.

  After a few more moments, she found she could open her eyes. The white ceiling and walls, plus the IV attached to her arm and the thing clipped on her finger, told her she was in a hospital. The beeping was the machine telling her that her heart was beating. She swung her eyes to the right and saw a window, sunlight peeking through the blinds. To her left was the door, and on a chair near the door slumped a figure.

  She tried to sit up, to get a better look at the person. But as she moved, pain broke through the haze and she gasped, falling back down onto the sheets. The figure jerked upright at the sound and when he stood, she recognized him.

  “Ben...” But her voice was so quiet she couldn’t even hear herself.

  “Hey, you’re awake.” He came to the bedside. With one hand he grasped her palm, and with the other he reached above her head and pressed a button on the panel built into the wall. “A nurse will be here in a second. How are you feeling?”

  The question didn’t really register in her mind. She was too busy trying to sort out what was happening. Her memory was patchy, and she couldn’t recall coming to the hospital. As she thought back, images started popping up. Adam yelling, hitting her.

  She cleared her throat and spoke as loudly as she could, which was barely loud enough to be audible. “How did I get here?”

  “You were missing for almost a day. We found you early yesterday morning.”

  “We?”

  “RAs. We were pretty sure you were still on campus, so we helped the police look. We found you behind some storage buildings.”

  She turned her head, looking around. “How did I get there?”

  “We think he dragged you by the arm. Your shoulder was dislocated, and you had some road rash. Are you in pain?”

  Before Rikke could answer him, a nurse dressed in blue scrubs came through the door, followed by a doctor. While the nurse checked the chart and took some readings, the doctor came to her side, and Ben stepped out of the way.


  “Hello, Rikke. I’m Dr. Simonton. I performed your operation. How are you feeling?”

  “Operation?” She blinked.

  The doctor nodded. “You were found with some internal bleeding. You’ve been in the hospital about a day now, recovering.”

  “Am I okay?”

  “You’re doing well. Do you feel any pain?”

  She glanced at Ben, still a little confused. “When I tried to sit up...I’m not sure where it hurt...everything’s a little...”

  “Fuzzy? You’re on a couple different pain medications. It’s normal.”

  “It might have been…my back? Yeah, I think my back hurts.”

  “While being dragged, in addition to the shoulder getting dislocated, a couple of your larger back muscles were wrenched and strained. Nothing was torn, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “Your parents haven’t been notified yet. We didn’t need to since we got your medical information from the university, but we can call them if you want.”

  She shook her head. “How long until I can leave?” What a stupid question. She had just woken up.

  “Aside from the operation, your other injuries are minor, though painful. We will need to run some tests to make sure your brain is functioning all right since you did suffer some head trauma. But you’ll be here a few days for recovery from the operation, and on medication for a while after that.”

  She stared at the ceiling. Adam had done this to her. She’d always known he’d had a temper but she’d never thought him capable of this.

  “Get some rest now. We’ll run the tests a little later. Did you have any other questions?”

  “Adam?” She meant to add more detail to the question, but she didn’t even really know what she was asking. How could he have done this to her?

  The doctor turned to Ben. “I’ll leave that up to this young man. He seems to know you. Do you know him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to call your parents?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “All right then. Just use the call button if you need anything, and no getting out of bed for any reason.” The doctor and the nurse left, leaving her with Ben, who came back to her side.