“I knew you would have gone after him. I didn’t want you to…I don’t know…I was worried you’d get hurt.”
“You were worried I’d get hurt?” He asks, incredulously.
“Well, I didn’t want you to do anything rash.” I shrug.
He lets out an exasperated breath. “God, Emilia. I wish you had told me. Did he hurt you?”
“No.” I say, but I feel my eyes fall.
“Please, Emilia. I promise I won’t do anything, but if he threatened you in any way…I need to know.”
“Not really. He just scared me. We were alone and he was really drunk.” I shrug.
“What do you mean not really?” He glances at me anxiously. “You need to tell me, baby.”
“I’m trying to remember…I tend to block unpleasant situations out of my head…to the point where I don’t really remember exactly. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but that’s what I do. I’ve actually gotten quite good at it…helps me forget.”
Logan leans forward, taking my hand in his. “It makes total sense, but can you remember anything he said to you?”
“Does it really make any difference?” I shrug. “He’s pissed at the world right now…he’s pissed at you, at me…he’s a miserable person.”
“It does matter…if he threatened you…it matters.” He says, firmly.
I think for a couple minutes. “He talked about you. He’s pissed you kicked him out and then he said something about you not deserving either one of us. He wasn’t making a lot of sense…he said something about us being friends now because we both have something in common…I think he was trying to say you screwed us both.” I sigh.
He rubs his forehead with his hands as if in pain. “It’s probably good you didn’t say anything to me that night.”
“Oh?”
“I would have gone up those stairs and killed him or at the very least beat the shit out of him.”
“Logan, you can’t let him get you all riled up. I’m sure that’s what he wants in some sick way. He wants a reaction from you. It’s better just to stay clear of him.”
“Did he say anything else?” He breathes.
“I think that’s most of it.”
He stares at me and I know he knows I’m not telling him everything, but I don’t want him more upset than he already is…he doesn’t need to know that he touched me or put his arm around me.
“You’re sure?” He says as he gazes at me, appraisingly.
“Yes.” I say.
He blinks at me. “Okay, but if you remember anything else, you need to tell me. If Sebastian is the one behind these burglaries he’s obviously gone so far off the deep end…who know what he’s capable of doing.”
“I thought you said he wouldn’t do something that stupid?” I ask.
“I said I hope he wouldn’t do something that stupid. He’s a drug addict…he used to steal from me all the time.” His expression is serious, somber.
My mouth drops open. Hang on – how could you be friends with someone who is always stealing from you? He answers what I’m thinking.
“Addiction is ugly. I didn’t know he was stealing from me until the last couple months we lived together. I’d miss a couple hundred dollars every now and then and didn’t give it much thought. When I finally said something to him about it, he of course denied it, but I knew he took it…he’s the only one who had access to it.”
“Do you think you should say something to the police?” I ask, trying to make sense of it all.
“I thought about it…for a second, but there’s no proof…I think you’re right.”
“I am?” I ask, confused. I’m not sure what I’m right about.
“Yes. We need to stay clear of him. When I lost you, I had never experienced that kind of loss. I never want to feel that way again. I said it before and I meant it…I won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of us.”
With my hands still in his, our elbows on the table, I lean forward and gently kiss the top of his knuckles.
“That makes two of us.” I say, sincerely, as I gaze back at him.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BLOCKING PAINFUL MEMORIES out of my mind is something I’ve always been good at. The first few years after I lost my mom and after the incident, I had a couple different therapists, but all of them pretty much told me the same thing. Refusing to talk about what happened in the beginning was quite normal for someone who was raped. The technical term is called suppression. I remember thinking how ridiculous this sounded because, who really wants to talk about something so horrific. Right?
I still don’t like talking about it. Besides my doctors, I’ve only opened up a little bit about what happened to my dad, Bryn and now Logan. I tend to suppress not just major painful memories, but minor ones as well. My doctors have always tried to help me deal with this because they think that often when you suppress your emotions there’s something they call the rebound effect. This basically means when you push away certain thoughts, you may make it worse. The more you push, the more painful memories surface in your head.
Through the years, doctors have come up with all sorts of ways to help me regulate my emotions. In some sessions, they would try and encourage meditation or breathing exercises. But what has worked best for me over the years has always been the same thing: running. In many ways, I think running has saved me. The funny thing is I’ve just always enjoyed running. It has always made me feel good about my self in the physical sense and I love competing. But my doctors have always said it has helped me in more ways than one. It has helped me with emotional acceptance.
Besides, suppression, I’m also quite good at pretending everything is fine. Doctors have a lot of talents, but I’ve always admired their ability to put a name on everything. I guess it’s the Literature lover in me. I’m a lover of words. And, doctors give everything a special word. I’ve learned all about suppression, emotional acceptance, and do you know they even have a word for pretending everything is fine? It’s called minimization.
And, just when I thought they couldn’t come up with any more names, I found out both suppression and minimization also have a fancy name. They are called “coping mechanisms.”
In the first few years, I did therapy regularly and it was a huge help. I don’t know where I’d be today without it. Looking back, I don’t know how I would have ever have gotten through everything that had happened. My dad was dealing with his loss. We had just moved across the country to get away from everything. I basically had no friends, no mom…just Dr. Rose Good.
Yes, Dr. Good. Could you come up with a better psychologist’s name then Dr. Good? She was incredibly good at her job even though I was quite skeptical at first. Dr. Good was the first doctor I saw regularly for the first three years after we moved to California. She was in her early thirties with long, straight blonde hair and blue eyes. When we met for the first time, I remember thinking how is California Barbie supposed to help me? I know what you’re thinking…pretty rude, but I was an angsty teen at the time. But any reservations I had from her first appearance were quickly put to rest.
I couldn’t have asked for a better fit. During those first initial meetings, I could barely function. I was literally sick to my stomach and I just felt so numb. But her sympathetic words and kind, understanding glances eventually helped break my silence. I can honestly say, without a doubt, I wouldn’t be here today without Dr. Good.
When she married and moved to Arizona because of her husband’s job, after three years of regularly meeting with her, I thought I would be lost. I remember feeling devastated when she told me she was leaving, but she reassured me that I would be just fine. I remember her saying, “Fine. You’ll be more than fine.” She told me I was the strongest survivor she had ever met and I was going to continue making great strides with my recovery.
Since Dr. Good, I’ve gone to two other therapists. Although they haven’t had the same impact as Dr. Good, they have been beneficial in other ways. Once I started colle
ge, I didn’t feel the need to go to therapy…and this I can explain in one word: Bryn. She’s my best friend, but over the years she has been like my therapist. I’m sure she’d laugh off my praises, but it’s true. She has always been there for me from the moment we first met freshman year.
“SHIT! SO ARE YOU SAYING that Sebastian broke into our place and Spyder?” Bryn’s eyes are already big but when she gets excited about something or she’s shocked, they are enormous.
“Shh.” I say. I don’t know why, but it’s my immediate reaction.
“Why are you shh’shing me? There’s no one here but us.” She looks around. I guess to make sure.
I laugh, nervously. “I don’t know. But no, I’m not saying that so please don’t repeat it. I’m just saying there have been all these burglaries and he always has a cigarette hanging out of his mouth or he has just finished a pack.”
“Right. So, tell me about the cigarette thing.” Bryn sits at edge of the barstool in our kitchen, hanging on my every word. She has her detective cap on. A huge fan of any show crime-related, Criminal Minds, Law and Order, and NCIS are just a few of her favorites, she is in her element.
“The detective said there was some ash from a cigarette at the back door and in the storage area.” I tell her a second time. She looks deep in thought, trying to put the pieces together.
“The detective? What was his name and what did he look like?” Bryn asks.
I scrunch my face at her. “What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing. I just think detectives are hot. I wish you had texted me. I would have been there in a heart beat.”
“Next time.” I say, suppressing a laugh.
“Okay. Could they tell what type of cigarette the ash came from? What brand? Do you know what kind of cigs Sebastian smokes?”
“No.” I reply. I’m starting to wonder if it was a good idea that I told Bryn. In a minute she’ll probably head to Spyder and dust for fingerprints.
She scratches her head while she thinks.
“You want a water?” I ask, while I head to the refrigerator.
She shakes her head. “Okay so Sebastian is a smoker. He’s creepy, but why exactly are you thinking he’s guilty?”
“No. I didn’t say he’s guilty. I just said maybe.”
“So, he’s a suspect?” Bryn asks.
I shake my head while I sip the water.
“You know you make a crappy detective partner.”
I laugh. “You think it’s just a weird coincidence that our place was broken into and Spyder? The police said they think the burglaries that happened over break were by one individual.”
“Oh. You didn’t tell me that…that’s interesting.” Her voice squeaks a bit.
“Now, you’re back on the case.” I laugh.
“What did this individual steal at Spyder? Shorts? T-shirts? Bathing suits? Flip-flops?” She says seriously.
“Three hundred dollars.”
“Oh. That sucks. What does Logan think? He knows the creep better than anyone else. Does he think he’d be that moronic to steal and think he’d get away with it? Eventually the person, whether it’s Sebastian or not, is going to get busted.”
“Well, that’s where it gets really interesting.” I murmur.
“Oooohh.” She rubs her hands together, greedily.
“You promise you won’t say a word…not one word…not even to Josh.” I point my finger at her.
“Yes. Of course, I promise…cross my heart.” She’s giddy with excitement.
“Seriously, Bryn.” I press.
“Yes. I won’t say a word.”
“Sebastian is an addict.” I say, waiting for her shocked expression.
“And?”
“That’s not news to you?” I ask, curiously.
She shrugs. “No. I mean I haven’t really said oh hey, there’s Sebastian, he’s a drug addict, but jeez just look at him. He’s always completely out of his mind. You saw him that night…snorting coke. I don’t know if he’s just on coke or if he’s into other stuff, but he’s obviously got a problem.”
“He definitely has a problem. Logan says he used to steal money from him all the time.” I say.
“No shit? Now, you’re talking. Why didn’t you say this in the first place? Once a thief, always a thief.”
“That’s not necessarily true…look at Les Miserables. Jean Valjean is a thief, but he changes.” I muse.
Bryn ignores me. “This is what we know: one, the burglar is an individual; two, the burglar is a smoker; and three, Sebastian used to steal from Logan when they lived together. Correct?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Yes, Nancy Drew. Are you ready to issue a warrant for his arrest?”
“You should hope Sebastian’s ass ends up in the pokey soon. I know I do.” She says definitively.
“Why do you say it like that?” I ask.
“You’ve already said Sebastian was a dick to you, right? He obviously had some weird bromance with Logan and felt threatened by you. He gave you shit about it and Logan. Right?”
I nod. “Sure, but I don’t see why…”
She interrupts me before I can finish. “Now, Logan has kicked him out on the street…”
“That’s not fair.” It’s my turn to interrupt.
“Call it what you want…makes no difference and believe me I’m actually on Logan’s side, one hundred percent, but he did kick him out, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Right. Now, he’s kicked him out and you two are back together. And, on top of it he’s a sick mother fucker with a serious drug problem and he’s a crook.”
“We don’t know for sure he’s behind these burglaries. But why would this make any difference now? I’ve always said Sebastian loathes me…even before Logan and I were together.”
“Don’t you see?” She stares into my eyes.
Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. “You think he’d try and do something to me just because Logan kicked him out? You think he’d actually hurt me?” I sit down on the barstool next to Bryn with my hands covering my face.
“Emilia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I look up at her. “I’m not crying. I’m just trying to make sense of it all. It’s all so ridiculous.”
“I agree. It is ridiculous, but it kind of sheds some light…” I trail off, lost in my thoughts.
“Sheds some light on what?” Bryn leans closer to me.
“You know that night we went to Soho? We were doing tequila shots…your tequila versus margaritas experiment.”
“Yes. Go on.” She looks at me with worried eyes.
“I had to go to the bathroom, badly. The downstairs bathroom we always use was packed with a long line in the hall so I went to the upstairs bathroom and when I came out of the bathroom I ran into Sebastian. He was wasted, as usual.”
She interrupts. “Emilia, did he try to…”
I shake my head. “He said some things about Logan…said how Logan didn’t deserve either one of us and how he thought we could be friends…he wasn’t making much sense. Anyway, I tried to get away from him but he wouldn’t let me.”
“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you? Did he hurt you, Em?”
“I tried to walk away at first but he said something about wanting to just have a chat. I don’t know…he just kind of got in my face. He didn’t hurt me, but he touched my face and there was no one around. I was scared. I think I froze.”
“Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know…he didn’t hurt me so I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. He was threatening you…that’s seriously fucked up.”
“I didn’t tell you the worst part.”
Her eyes don’t leave mine.
“He put his arm around me and said, ‘Why don’t you let me show you what it’s like to be with a real man?’ It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.”
She swallows. “Why didn�
�t you tell me?” I see tears in her eyes.
I shrug. “You know how I am…I suppress. I told you the thought of him and what he said makes me sick to my stomach. I do anything to avoid those feelings…those memories. Besides the last time I told you Sebastian laid a finger on me…when he told me I was a gold digger…you were ready to track him down yourself. I don’t want that either…we just need to stay clear of him.”
“You’re probably right.” She pauses a minute. “How did you finally manage to get away from him?”
“I stomped on his foot as hard as I could and then I ran.”
A smile spreads across Bryn’s face. “Of course you did. You are without a doubt the toughest chick I know.”
I laugh.
“By the way, what did Logan say about all this? You worry about me going after Sebastian. He’s the one who’s probably hunting him down right now. He’ll be like that cool German dude in Django…you know the bounty hunter?”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t exactly tell him everything.” I murmur. “I told him I ran into Sebastian that night, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to know he actually threatened me. You know? I just think nothing good will come out of that…so please don’t say anything.”
“My lips are sealed. But you need to promise me something.” She says.
“Sure.”
“If you see that asshole you run.” She gives me a concerned look. “And, another thing, no more secrets.”
“I promise.” I say as I throw my arms around her.
“You better.” She squeezes me tight and kisses the top of my head.
IT’S LATE WHEN I FINALLY start on my homework. But strangely, I find I can’t focus. I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Hearing Bryn and Josh quietly talking downstairs, I find myself trying to listen in on their conversation. I know Bryn promised to keep quiet about everything I told her, but once she has a couple glasses of wine or whatever, she may accidentally let something slip. But from what I can hear, they aren’t talking about anything earth shattering.
Just as I’m about to get started on my work, I hear my phone buzz with a text.
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