Angels In Red (33 page)

Raped?

She teetered on the brink of hysteria as she frantically searched her mind for even a thread of memory. She turned her face upward and shouted her anger and fear. The water started to cool and she turned up the hot water.

Get a grip, Jenna. If I had sex with a man, wouldn’t I feel it?

Jenna slid down the shower wall, remembering the morning after the last times her and Jack made love. She’d clung to every glorious sensation for the next couple of days. Her fingers followed the curve of her lips, while her hand tentatively slipped between her legs. There was no sensation of being raw, or bruised.

I can’t feel anything to validate being raped.

Her gazed darted around the shower stall for soap. There was nothing, no soap, no shampoo...

“Ahhhh!!”

Her fingernails raked every inch of her body, trying to rid herself of the sense of violation that had all but consumed her until the water ran cold. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she stepped out of the shower. Her emotions, so fragile, had her almost sobbing with relief after finding a clean, folded towel.

As if in a daze, she patted her body dry and wrapped the cloth around her hair before venturing out in search of her clothes. Her stomach flip-flopped at the sight of the bed, and seeing one of her socks peeking out from under a bunched sheet. With two fingers she pulled it out.

Jenna returned to the bathroom, and put the lid of the toilet down to sit on while she slowly dressed with shaking hands. She hadn’t looked in the mirror once since opening her eyes to this nightmare. The skin of her legs prickled from being scratched by her fingernails as she pulled on her jeans.

After she’d taken a couple deep breaths and closing her eyes, she raised her face to the mirror.
Oh God, please don’t let me see any marks left by the stranger in my bed.
She was almost completely convinced there had been no sexual interaction. To find something now would definitely be her undoing.

She squeezed her eyes tight one more time before opening. Her shoulders dipped in relief. Other than looking seriously hungover and a little red from being scrubbed, she saw nothing to validate the question of being raped.

How long has it been since I phoned Buffy? It will probably take her an hour to get here.

She straightened her stance and took a couple of steps toward the bathroom door. The mere thought of seeing that bed again sent her stomach churning, and a cold sweat broke out across her brow.  Her head shook violently from side to side as she stepped backwards, to return to sit on the toilet and wait for her friend. She wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock.

For as long as she lived, she’d never forget the expression on Jack’s face. He’d left the room a broken man, and apparently, it was all her fault.

A knock came to the door.

Her heart pounded beneath her hand. “Buffy? Is that you?”

The door opened, and her best friend came inside, two extra-large coffees in hand. Her eyes grew big as she faced Jenna sitting on the toilet.

“Why are you sitting in there?” Buffy set down the coffee and hurried to kneel at her feet. “Thank God you’re okay. We’ve all been worried sick about you. What’s going on here? You didn’t make much sense on the phone.”

Her best friend’s genuine concern for her as she searched her eyes set her body trembling and the threat of sobbing rose to the brink.

Buffy rubbed Jenna’s upper arms briskly—the first warmth even the shower hadn’t given her. “Never mind all that for now. Let’s sit by the window.”

Jenna nodded, thankful for the hand offered. Her friend led her out of the bathroom, leaving her to stand alone while she pulled two chairs over to a small table by the window.

“Come sit here.” Buffy took her hand in hers and walked alongside her to be seated.

Jenna gratefully accepted the coffee in her trembling hands.

Buffy reached over and tucked a lock of her unkempt hair behind her ear. “You look like shit.”

Intense heartache and anger rendered her immobile, stuck in a cesspool of self-loathing and confusion. She shook her head and closed her eyes, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “I don’t understand any of this. Jack said I sent him an invitation, and that there was a man in bed next to me? I can’t remember any of it!”

Her friend rubbed her back. The attempt to comfort her had the exact opposite effect, making her queasy. “Maybe we should phone the police and get you to a hospital. We can talk on the way.”

Panic rose up in her and she grabbed her friend’s hand, squeezing hard. “Oh God, please no. I checked everything in the shower, and I seriously doubt I had sex last night. Besides, I can’t face a hospital...I need to find Jack...” Jenna set her cup down, sloshing coffee up the sides. A pathetic groan escaped her dry mouth as she tried to keep the very real threat of puking again at bay.

“Okay, okay, if you’re sure you weren’t....that you didn’t have sex, we’ll find Jack first. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but we’ll get through this together.” Buffy shook her head and took her cell from her pocket. “Try and drink some of that coffee. I promised Charles and Twyla I’d call once I found you.”

Buffy got up and opened the door to stand just outside and make her call. Her voice muffled as Jenna held her coffee between both hands and sipped at it. Slowly, the caffeine worked its magic, and she regained some appearance of being in control over her emotions.

Her friend returned to sit at the table next to her. “What the hell did you do last night?”

“I don’t remember anything before Jack waking me up.”

Buffy sat quietly, listening to her, but her gaze kept going to Jenna’s arm.  Then her eyes opened wide and she practically jumped to the edge of her seat, reaching over to grab Jenna’s upper arm and turn it gently. “You know what? I don’t think you were drunk at all.”

“How can you say that? Trust me, this is about as bad as a hangover can get.” She shrugged at the faint bruise her friend showed her. “So, I probably banged into something.”

“Look closer.” Buffy tapped a red-polished nail in front of a tiny dark speck in the center of the bruise. “That’s a needle track. Unless you got a flu shot yesterday, odds are you were drugged.”

Jenna gripped the arms of her chair, and closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning. She trudged through the murky recesses of her fragmented memory.

I was standing in Daniel’s office…

She broke out in a cold sweat.

A slight breeze…

“Daniel!”

Her hand flew to her chest, and she swallowed the sour bile that threatened to choke her.

“Daniel
drugged you?”
Buffy took her hands and squeezed them reassuringly.

Having her so close was nauseating, and she pulled her hands away and waved a hand in her face, feeling like she might faint. “Please, I need some air.”

Her friend got up and scurried behind her to open the window. Jenna breathed in deeply. With each breath, the nausea passed and the oppressive weight lifted.

“I was in his office after Twyla and you tore out of the ranch. He said he knew I was up to something…” She grabbed a corner of her shirt and wiped the sweat from her face. “He said he wasn’t going to stand back and let me ruin his life.”

Buffy jogged to the bathroom and returned with a damp face cloth. She moved in to wipe her face, and Jenna stopped her, taking the cloth from her hand. “Thank you, but I’m feeling a little claustrophobic and need some breathing room.”

“Of course, I’m sorry.”

The last thing her best friend needed to be was sorry.

“Did you see the needle?” she asked and returned to her seat on the opposite side of the table.

Jenna pressed the cold cloth to the back of her neck. “No, but I remember something, like a bee sting on my arm...and then everything went black.” The cloth quickly grew warm as she rubbed her nape and chest.

“The bastard set you up! He did all this so you’d lose one of the most important people in your life…Jack!” Buffy balled her hands and shook her fists. “We really should call the cops.”

Jenna gently covered her fist with a hand. “No way. I don’t want to have to explain all of this…” Her cheeks burned as she turned her head to look around the disheveled room. “They’ll think I’m some psycho drug addict or worse.”

Despite the marching band in her head, and the dredge from the bottom of a sewer that threatened to fill her mouth, she got up, a tad too quickly and swayed.

“Oh God, somebody shoot me and put me out of my misery.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Buffy stood and picked up both coffee cups. “If you don’t want to call the cops, or go to the hospital, where do you want to go?”

“For starters, I’d like to go home and get out of these clothes, and then I’m going to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Jenna put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder on the way out of the room.

“And that would be?”

“Tell Jack
everything.
”

Jack drove around aimlessly for quite some time before swerving to the shoulder of the road, spewing gravel as he came to an abrupt stop, and pounded the steering wheel.

“What the hell am I doing?” He looked back over his shoulder for oncoming traffic. The second the coast was clear, he shot back onto the asphalt and peeled a U-turn, filling the air with smoke and the stench of burned rubber.

None of this makes any sense.
If Jenna wanted to end things between them there was no way in hell she’d be so manipulative and hurtful.
Yes, I know I saw a man in bed with her, but I also saw the hurt and confusion in her expressive eyes. No, there’s definitely more to this story.

Less than an hour later, he sat on the back deck of the estate, nursing a hot cup of coffee Twyla brought out for him before leaving them alone to talk.

“Buffy called shortly before you arrived, so I know what’s going on.” His mouth set in a grim line before proceeding. “Jenna doesn’t remember anything. Did you really find a man in bed with her?”  His big hands opened and closed, clenched so tight, his knuckles turned white.

“I’ll never forget turning on the light and finding her in bed with another man.” He paused and took a few deep breaths. “Jenna was out cold, and the guy shot out of bed and jumped into his jeans pretty fast.”

“Please tell me you landed a fist in his face.” Charles’ face turned red with anger as he clenched his teeth.

“No.” Jack shook his head, pissed at himself for missing the chance. “I was in shock. I couldn’t speak never mind deck the guy.”

“What was Jenna doing before he left the room?”

“I had to wake her up. Like I said, she was out cold. It took her a few minutes to realize I was even there. All I could smell was stale booze, and what I saw… You know, looking back, I didn’t see a shred of guilt in her expression. All I saw in those green eyes of hers was fear and confusion. But all
I
saw was red. I didn’t even give her a chance to talk.” He raked his fingers through his hair.

Charles got up and started to pace. “I’d lay money on Howard or Daniel, maybe even both of them being behind this somehow. Besides, do you really believe our Jenna is capable of something like that?”

“Ugh!” Jack hit the deck with his fist. “In my heart I know Jenna wouldn’t do this to me...but I can’t dismiss what I saw with my own two eyes.”

“And that’s exactly what
he
wanted to happen.” Jenna stepped out onto the deck and rushed to kneel at his feet.

Jack searched her tortured expression for a clue as to how he was supposed to feel. His heart wrenched seeing her in such a sick-looking state.

“I was drugged,” she stated breathlessly as she pushed up the sleeve of her shirt and pointed out the puncture mark. “Daniel drugged me and set it up to look like I was screwing around on you. You
have
to believe me.”

“Oh God, Jenna, do you remember anything at all? Did that guy….” His words caught in his throat.

“No, I don’t think so.” She bowed her head, but not quick enough to hide the pain that darkened her eyes.

Jack lifted her chin and gazed into her tear-filled eyes.
Could I be any bigger of a jerk?
He gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips to her damp cheek. “Oh God, Jenna... I’m so sorry I doubted you... doubted our love.” He swallowed the huge lump in his throat as he helped her up and held her at arms’ length so he could see her face to face. “Please, can you find it in your heart to forgive me? You have every reason not to...it’s just...I was so excited to get your invite...and then I opened the door...and...” His voice cracked as he drew her to him and captured her lips in a heartfelt kiss. He pulled back and took her tear streaked face in his hands and looked into her beautiful green eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m begging you for the opportunity to make it up to you, each day...every day, for the rest of my life.”