“It’s all going to be okay,” Rachel says, kneeling down next to me. The words are meant to make me feel better but I can’t see everything being okay ever again.
Rachel’s arms come around me, and she rocks me against her like I’m a child who’s fallen and scuffed her knee. I hold onto her, wishing I’d had the courage to tell her and, in the midst of all my sorrow, feeling awful for believing she’d judge me.
Sometimes it’s when you hit rock bottom that you see who is genuinely on your side. Rachel strokes my hair, shushing my weeping and eventually urges me to get up. She helps me to the bed and I sit on the soft mattress, remembering how Cory kneeled before me, waiting for me to tell him my story.
Would things have been different if I’d had the courage to trust him, and if I hadn’t done my usual stupid thing of using sex as a distraction from my hurt? The memories of Cory taking care of me after sex are bittersweet. I’ll never feel his lips on mine or his gentle touch again.
I curl up on my side and press my head onto the pillow. The coolness of it soothes me, the soft familiarity of my bed so comforting. If I could just stay here forever, and never go outside again I’d be okay. Rachel smooths a lock of hair off my face and pulls out her phone. “I’ll be right back.”
She steps outside to make her call from the hallway thinking I won’t hear anything, but the walls in the dorm are paper thin and I close my eyes to help me concentrate on her voice.
“Have you found him yet?” she asks.
I know she must be talking to Cory.
“How hard can it be to find that asshole?” Rachel sighs and I can picture her rolling her eyes at whatever reason Cory has given her.
Rachel steps back in the room, dropping her phone into her purse.
“I’m sorry, honey, but I have to get to work. I promise I’ll come back when my shift is over,” Rachel says.
I nod, snuggle into the pillow more and pull the covers over me. I haven’t bothered to change into pajamas. I’m exhausted from the panic, the investigation, holding in the tears and then letting them go. I could sleep for a week if I was allowed to.
I take deep breaths to bring my breathing back to normal. Tears threaten to spill again and the effort to hold them back makes my throat ache and my head pound.
As far as I can see I have two options. Give up my studies and leave school all together. Huddle in my mom’s place with Jeff and deal with people solely online, never seeing another human being again except for them. Or I can move somewhere else. My credits so far should be transferable. And pretend like this never happened. No one at a new school, maybe out of state, would know anything about me except what I tell them.
The possibility of a court case terrifies me. I can’t deal with the accusations, my name being dragged through the mud, to get Drew acquitted. Any defense lawyer would turn me into the bad girl, bringing up my sexual proclivities and making it seem as though I was the one in the wrong. Drew’s a very convincing liar and he’s managed to cultivate a respectable persona to cover his manipulative ways.
Flashes of court room scenes from television shows play in my mind. The victim on the stand crying while her moral character is questioned. ‘Surely you didn’t think this was normal behavior.’ ‘How can my client be blamed for the actions he took when it was clear you liked to be demeaned?’ ‘Wasn’t he just giving you what you wanted?’
I take another deep breath to stop a fresh wave of tears.
I hate that Drew has put me in this position. Anger and shame well up inside me and I want the bed to swallow me whole.
A knock on the door pulls me out of my musings.
I wonder who it could be. Maybe it’s Rachel. Did she leave something behind? Maybe she decided to blow off work and come back. It would help keep me occupied if we chatted about anything except what’s going on. I have a new magazine we could look at. I need something light and fun to take my mind off things. The thought of commiserating with Rachel, maybe ordering in pizza later and binge watching mindless comedy shows lifts my spirits slightly.
I push myself off the bed and pad slowly over to the door. Just as I turn the handle someone pushes the door hard, catching me on the forehead. Sharp pain radiates out from the impact. I feel myself falling as if in slow motion or like I’m drifting limp to the bottom of a swimming pool. Before I hit the floor rough hands grab me under my arms and haul me upright. This isn’t Rachel. The beginning creep of panic flows through me but I feel myself drifting into unconsciousness.
I look to the right just as a hand comes over my mouth.
15
CORY
“Didn’t your parents tell you your face would freeze like that?” Simons asks me.
I glare at him but school my face into a more neutral expression. The muscle in my jaw aches from me clenching it so much. We’re sitting in the squad car and to say that I’m pissed would be an understatement. I want to be out there looking for Drew. But as I predicted my sergeant thinks my connection to Allyson means I can’t be objective.
That’s a fucking understatement.
My boss has no idea just how connected I am to Allyson. How I want to be connected to her right now. I should be with her, comforting her and taking the time to show her that not all men are like her ex.
“They might have mentioned it once or twice,” I say.
The boiling anger pumping through me will have no trouble keeping my face from freezing.
I imagine her crying in bed, tears soaking the same pillow that her hair had fanned over the previous night. The memory of how beautiful she looked as she came rushes back to me, immediately making my dick jerk.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that when I know she’s hurting but I can’t help it. I know it sounds lame but when I saw those handcuffs in Allyson’s nightstand, I thought I’d found the perfect woman. Stunning face, curvy figure, legs to die for, funny and sassy but soft-hearted too. Our time together had blown me away. Trust my luck that it was my stepsister-to-be who seemed to have it all.
When you have certain desires, it isn’t necessarily easy to find someone to share them with. It’s not like you can slip that kind of thing into a conversation at a bar. “By the way, if we get to fuck later, I’d like you to tell me you don’t want to, and then I’ll pretend to force you. That okay?”
Shit. I feel all kinds of fucked up.
One day I’m having the best sex of my life, then she tells me it was a mistake and my world dropped away again. Being given the best gift I’ve ever had only to have it snatched away literally stolen the breath from me.
I sigh when I remember how distressed Allyson was at the station. Not just how distressed but how guilty and riddled with shame.
When she’d handed the phone over to Detective Jameson, I hadn’t wanted to look but I couldn’t help myself. As he flipped through the pictures my cock had twitched and I’d felt sick at myself.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I rub my hands over my face trying to rub the images away. Rub the memory of my desire for her away when I saw her like that. What kind of pervert gets turned on by those kinds of pictures? She’s going through something terrible, something that could ruin her life and probably will ruin her chosen career, and I was getting turned on.
I know my sexual preferences are warped. I feel like a degenerate but I can’t help the tightening in my pants, the jerk of my cock when I see a beautiful woman bound and helpless. It’s not just the feeling of control. It’s the trust in their eyes. Well, the trust when they like it as Allyson had.
Not like my last girlfriend. After four months of hot and heavy dating, I thought it was time to let her know what turned me on. We were really into it at my place and, seized by the moment, I gripped her hands behind her back, covered her mouth and whispered what I wanted to do to her. When her eyes went wide I thought she was into it but she shook her head, wrenched away from me and told me I was fucked up.
Maybe I am.
She said it was wrong
to want someone to pretend they didn’t want it. She stormed out of my apartment saying she never wanted to see me again. And I haven’t seen her since. Four months of dating down the drain.
I haven’t shown my true self to anyone since, but with Allyson it had been different. Every second I was with her, taking her, pushing into her, she rose to meet my thrusts as though she enjoyed it as much as I did.
Then she’d pulled the carpet out from under me.
“Stop brooding already. Sarge says you can’t be involved so we aren’t involved,” Simons says.
“Yeah, I know. I just want to be doing something to help.” I slam my hand on the steering wheel, needing to let out some of my frustration. “He’ll do it to someone else if we don’t catch him.”
“You’re right, C, so let the other officers do their job. At least for now.”
“For now,” I say but I know that if I don’t get word of some progress soon, I won’t be able to stand back anymore.
Simons nods and turns up the radio as a message crackles through. It’s a report of a breakin on campus. My heart beats faster, my hands clench until the rest of the message comes through telling us it was a professor’s office.
“At last! Something to take your mind off your stepsister’s troubles.”
The way he says stepsister makes me feel even more perverted.
Simons throws the car into gear and we drive to the campus. We reach the office in under fifteen minutes. I can tell which one has been broken into just by looking down the hall. A security guard and an aging professor wearing a tweed jacket stand in front of a door. The professor looks agitated, shooting glances into his office every few seconds.
We walk up to the security guard who suddenly stands to attention.
“What can you tell us?” I ask the guard.
Simons steps inside the office to look around then comes back out and begins talking to the professor and some students.
“It was reported twenty minutes ago. The door was clearly tampered with.”
“Anyone seen in the area looking suspicious?”
The guard shakes his head. “A few students in the halls. The professor keeps office hours. Some wait for him in the lounge.” He points down the hall to an area that looks like a living room.
“Thanks. Stay here for now,” I say and walk over to Simons who is now talking to the students.
When he’s done he flips his notebook closed. “Not much to go on really. He’ll get back to us if he discovers anything missing.”
“Guard didn’t have a lot either. We can check back later. Probably a prank. Maybe a fraternity hazing.”
We head back to the squad car. The memory of Allyson’s distraught face tugs at me. I need to see that she’s okay. After all, she’s been through, she needs all the friends she can get and no matter what, I want to be there for her.
“Can we swing by Allyson’s dorm?”
“C, you heard what Sarge said. The case is off limits.”
“This isn’t about the case. I want to make sure she’s okay. Come on, it’s just on the other side of campus. She’s gonna be family soon.” I say the last bit so he listens to me but it makes me feel sick to think of her that way.
“Fine. But don’t tell Sarge I drove.”
“If he finds out I’ll tell him I wrestled the keys away from you and forced you to come along.”
Simons grinned. “Like you’d ever be able to get the keys from me.”
He dangles them in the air and I reach for them. He yanks them back then swings them around his finger, laughing. If I didn’t love him like a brother, I’d be knocking him out right now.
We get in the car and he tromps on the gas. When we pull up in front of Allyson’s dorm, I sit and think for a moment about what I’m going to say to her. At the station, I had to be calm. I had to be professional. Now all I want to do is pull her into my arms, smooth her hair and hold her tight. I want to reassure her that everything will be okay. She has her mom and friends for that but I want her to know I’m on her side, too.
“I’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”
“Relax. Sarge isn’t going to find out.”
Simons kills the engine. I jog up the stairs to the building. Someone is leaving and I reach out a hand to catch the door before it closes and locks behind them, but when they see the uniform they hold the door for me. I smile my thanks and hurry up the stairs to Allyson’s room.
Will she be happy to see me? Angry? After what she said, would she ever want to see me again outside of family obligations?
I hesitate in front of her door. Maybe Simons is right and I should let someone else handle this. I should walk away and concentrate on my other cases right now. I can shadow Detective Jameson at the station and swipe the files if I have to so I can stay up to date on the case. If she doesn’t want to see me I don’t know how I’ll handle that.
I tell myself to get a grip. This is police business. If Allyson doesn’t want to see me, I’ll tell her I’m there in an official capacity and stay long enough to make sure she’s fine. No harm, no foul.
I knock tentatively on the door. At the lightest touch the door swings open. A horrible feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. A plant lies on the floor in front of her desk. My gaze sweeps across the room and settles on Allyson’s purse on the floor by her bed. I step into the room a little farther. Her coat still rests on a hook by the door. There’s a line in the carpet beneath my feet as though something had been dragged.
My heart pounds as I grab my radio. I should have made sure someone would be with her at all times. I thought her friend would have stayed with her while she was so upset.
Even as I curse myself I know it’s futile. It’s too late now. I would never have suspected Drew would take her by force. My cop instinct has let me down, but not anymore. I’m going to make sure Detective Jameson knows what’s happened and a proper man-hunt is started. This isn’t stupid college student revenge anymore.
This is an abduction.
I grab my radio and call it in. Before I’m finished giving the details to the dispatcher Simons arrives at the door.
“Fuck,” he says loudly, smacking his hand on the door.
“This shit ends now,” I roar. “Sarge can go fuck himself. I’m on this case whether he wants me there or not.”
16
ALLYSON
Consciousness slides over me slowly like the rising of the sun, except there is no light, only a growing awareness. My body seems behind my mind. I try to shift but nothing moves. When I find the strength to open my eyes I find that the room I’m in is dark. I squint into the blackness trying to make out shapes; anything to tell me where I am.
The last thing I remember is opening my door and then horrible pain, the feeling of falling but I don’t remember hitting the ground or how I got here.
The room smells odd; chemically and musty. Instead of the throbbing pain I expect, my head is woozy like I’ve had a few too many drinks, but I don’t remember drinking anything. My face feels strange, almost numb.
Even though I can’t see anything I know I’m not in my room anymore. It feels different. The air feels different. The smell alone sets off alarm bells and, like a huge tsunami-sized wave, panic begins to rise.
As sleep fades further, my current state dawns on me. I’m lying on my stomach, with the right side of my face pressed into a pillow. The pillow is damp under my cheek as though I’ve been drooling. Embarrassed, I yank my hand intending to wipe my mouth but my hand doesn’t move. Something’s encircling my wrist and it digs into my flesh as I pull harder. I pull on the other hand only to be met with the same resistance.
I’m somewhere, in the dark, lying on a lumpy bed with my hands tied to either side of me.
I can’t turn over.
I can’t get my bearings in the near perfect blackness. My heart races as I realize how helpless I am. Everything is spiraling out of control, as unknown danger presses in on me from pitch black corners.
; I raise my head off the pillow slightly and blink several times, trying to clear the fuzziness in my eyes away. My neck is stiff and the room is still so dark I that can’t see the outline of any furniture or tell if anyone is there lurking in the shadows.
Desperate to get away from where ever I am and whoever has brought me here, I pull on my bindings again, hoping for a little give. It seems stupid to hope that they weren’t tied properly and I’ll be able to wrench my hands free, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. The rope digs in deeper, bruising my already damaged wrists and holding my hands firmly.
I try to pull my legs up at least so I can curl up into a ball for protection but my feet are tied to the end of the bed.
I try to open my mouth to scream but my jaw feels bruised too and the inside is dry as cotton. I still don’t have full use of my body but I scream on the inside, as my mind begins to play out horrible scenarios; unknown men lurking in the darkness, the terrible things they might do to me, the pain that might come with it all.
Tears well in my eyes making them even more blurry. I blink, not wanting anything to obstruct my vision in case I might be able to see a way out. I try to focus on something, anything. If I can just see something that might tell me where I am.
The gash on my head starts to throb now. The blissful numbness I encountered upon waking is gone. I might not know where I am but I know how I got here. Arms caught me when I fell, but whose arms?
As I move again, struggling to get comfortable, I realize that I still have my clothes on. It’s a relief but short lived. Just because whoever has kidnapped me hasn’t taken my clothes off, doesn’t mean they’re not intending to. They’ve tied me up in such a way that leaves me with no way to defend myself. I’m completely helpless.
I open my mouth to try to scream again and a chuckle from my left makes my blood run cold. It’s funny how the sounds that make up a person can affect you differently depending on how you feel about them. The laugh of a lover can turn into the snigger of a torturer with only a few days and incidents in between.
ARRESTED: A Stepbrother Cop Romance Page 11