“You'll be taking her to meet Mom and Dad, I guess,” Suzette said. Her ruby-red lips were pursed and I wondered how much her lipstick had cost. “Or are you going to introduce her to your mom first?”
I'd been right. Half-sister.
“I hadn't decided,” Rylan said.
“Well, you know how that'll go,” Suzette said. She gave Zeke a meaningful look. Whatever had happened between them, it sure wasn't keeping them from working together to make me feel left out. She continued, “If you go to your mom first, she'll lord it over Dad and blame him for you picking someone... well, you know.”
“My mom gave up the right to have any say about my dating life when she tried to hire a prostitute for me on my eighteenth birthday.” Rylan's tone was mild. “Besides, you know that Dad and Lindsay will do the same thing if I introduce Jenna to them first. They always think that whichever one I talk to first is my favorite.”
“Whose turn is it then?” Zeke asked. “Which one did you tell first about Curt resigning?”
Rylan glanced down at me. “I take turns telling my parents things first. Neither one of them are happy with it, but at least they can't claim I prefer one over the other.”
“Remember when your mom tried suing Dad for custody?” Suzette asked. She shifted the way she was sitting, her body language making it clear that she wasn't including me in the conversation. “She tried saying that he was shooting heroin and was nearly bankrupt because of it.”
Rylan nodded, his expression tight. “I remember.”
I wanted to glare at Suzette. It was obvious Rylan didn't want to talk about that.
“It was the first Thanksgiving we got to spend together,” Suzette said. “Your mom was so angry that the court ruled against her, she claimed she had an anxiety attack and had to be hospitalized.”
“She always has been a drama queen,” Rylan admitted. “But Dad wasn't much better, hiring that PI.”
“Yeah, he doesn't like losing, does he?” Suzette chuckled. “It was a good thing the two of us always had each other.”
“Must've been nice,” Zeke said. “Having someone to go to when your parents were driving you nuts.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “When my parents started fighting, there really wasn't anywhere for me to go.”
“Sure there was,” Rylan said. “You've always been welcome at our house.”
“Well, his mom's house, anyway,” Suzette said. “We all know Dad doesn't like him very much.” She shot me a sideways glance. “Dad always had good taste in people.”
“Or he just doesn’t like the fact that your mom keeps hitting on me,” Zeke snapped back.
I looked over at Rylan, wondering what he was thinking of the exchange. He looked a bit amused. He leaned down, his breath tickling my ear as he whispered, “Yes, they're always like this.”
“What about you, Jenna?” Suzette turned toward me suddenly. “What's your family like?”
“Suzette–” Rylan began.
She kept going, not even acknowledging that he'd spoken. “Parents divorced, still together or never married? Not that it's a big deal. Even in our social circles, there are plenty of bastards.”
“Suzette!” Rylan snapped.
“Come on, Rylan,” Zeke said good-naturedly. “We're both curious. You have to admit, it's weird. You go for years without being in a relationship. Not since Lara, I think, and then you bring someone in to meet us out of the clear blue.”
“You said you wanted us to get to know her,” Suzette picked up where Rylan had left off. “That's what I'm trying to do. Asking questions. Trying to get to know her.”
“You're being rude,” Rylan said quietly.
“It's okay,” I said. I put my hand on his arm.
“What's the big deal?” Zeke asked. “It wasn't like we were asking for her complete sexual history or access to her finances. Suzette just wanted to know about her family.”
“Unless there's something about her family she wants to hide,” Suzette said.
I was getting tired of them talking about me like I wasn't there, but I curbed my annoyance. “Not a lot to say. Never knew my dad and my mom wasn't the best of parents. I moved away to college and never looked back.” I kept my voice even and hoped they wouldn't read between the lines.
“Jenna, you don't have to say anything,” Rylan said softly. He glared at his sister and then at his friend.
“It's okay.” I forced a fake smile. “They're just looking out for you.”
“That's right,” Suzette said. “We are.”
“And we always will be,” Zeke added.
“Good,” I said. “I'm glad. Everyone should have someone who watches over them, protects them. Rylan is fortunate to have the two of you.”
I supposed, in a normal situation, my acknowledgement of their caring about Rylan should've been enough to break the ice, but that didn't appear to be the case here. Whether it was my lack of disclosure or something else, it didn't matter. They didn't like me and nothing would change that.
The rest of our lunch continued in the same awkward atmosphere. Zeke and Suzette continued to bring up events from the past, not even bothering to try to hide their attempts to remind Rylan how much they meant to him. He did his best to keep them from shutting me out entirely, but I could feel the strain and it twisted my stomach. I ate very little, unable to stomach the idea of a heavy meal. I had a horrible feeling that, if things went further with us, Rylan's relationships with his best friend and his sister would suffer. If I'd thought it would do any good, I would've excused myself and gone home, but I feared it would only make matters worse, drive a deeper wedge between them. Things were going to be hard enough as it was. I didn't need to make it worse.
Finally, after a couple long and agonizing hours, Suzette finally excused herself, saying she had Christmas shopping to do. Her good-bye to me was cursory and made it clear that she didn't expect us to meet again anytime soon. Zeke, on the other hand, lingered until Rylan said we needed to be going. He didn't even bother with a good-bye to me.
As we left the restaurant, I could feel Rylan's embarrassment over how things had gone and tried to make it better, making light conversation about work and the weather. I didn't think he was fooled, but he let me go. I was grateful when he took me back to my place and didn't ask if I wanted him to come in. As much as I'd missed him over Thanksgiving, I wanted to be alone right now. I needed to take a hot shower and curl up with a good book. Maybe, tomorrow, I'd feel more like spending time with Rylan, but right now, I couldn't get the lunch conversations out of my head. All I kept hearing were the hundreds of ways I wasn't good enough for Rylan, the ones spoken and the ones implied, as well as quite a few I came up with on my own. It would take some time to get over that. If I ever could.
Chapter 13
This is why I didn't like getting involved with people. A quick fuck and that was it. No baggage, no wondering about what the other person was thinking. Now, I was in a relationship. That meant meeting families and dealing with disapproval. Meeting friends and having them hate me.
Check and check again.
I spent the night after the disastrous lunch date curled up in bed reading a book that had monsters and things that went bump in the night but absolutely, one hundred percent, no romance. Not an easy thing to find.
Rylan texted me a couple times, but I kept the answers cursory and polite. I didn't want to get into a lengthy discussion about feelings and all that shit. I just wanted to close my brain down for a few hours.
That was easier said than done.
Aside from the fact that I kept seeing every look, hearing every snide remark, I also had an uncomfortable feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
I prided myself on how little I let my past shape certain aspects of my life. My fears and safety concerns, I felt, were well balanced. I didn't go to one extreme or the other. I had locks on my doors, but the only one I'd added had been a deadbolt. The regular one and the chain lock had already been there. I took self-defense classes and knew how to shoot a gun, but I didn't own one. I carried pepper spray but not a Taser or anything like that.
Still, every once in a while, I'd feel the need to turn on every light in my apartment, double check all of the windows and the door. When that happened, I let myself do the checking, but I picked a single room and only turned on the lights in there. Tonight, I picked my bedroom and hoped that reading would be enough of a distraction that the nagging feeling that something was wrong would dissipate by the time I was ready to go to sleep.
It didn't work so I left my light on as I pulled my covers up around my shoulders and tried to sleep. Whenever my brain was too busy for me to sleep, I'd try to go over the plot of whatever book I happened to be reading, picking apart plot holes, theorizing about things to come or backstory not mentioned. Usually, it kept part of my mind occupied enough for the rest to fall asleep. Tonight, however, I found it difficult to keep focused, to follow through on whatever I tried to think about. My mind kept wandering, generally back to lunch.
Had I handled things wrong? I was sure I could've done better, but I had absolutely no experience dealing with families. Not even my own.
Maybe I should've told the whole truth. Let Suzette and Zeke have it all, every last little piece of shit that made up the first thirteen years of my life. I didn't know if that would've made them more or less sympathetic to me, but I knew it would've been horrifying enough that they would've felt like asses for pressing the issue. If I'd been one of those people who coped and grew through sharing, I might've done just that.
That wasn't me though. I'd spent years working through my issues and I didn't think it was anyone else's business. I supposed that I'd eventually need to decide if I would tell Rylan more, but we weren't there yet. Even if I'd wanted to shock Suzette and Zeke, I wouldn't have felt right telling them something I hadn't even shared with Rylan.
I shivered and pulled my blanket even closer. I didn't like thinking about the past in general, but it was even worse at night. I needed to get my mind off of those things, off of the questions that would surely keep coming. If Suzette's behavior and attitude were any indication, Rylan's parents and step-mother weren't going to be fond of me either, and chances were, they'd ask about my family too. After all, wasn't that how we as a people learned about each other? We asked about family because we understood that family was what shaped us from the beginning, made us into who we were. If family wasn't so important, kids who were raised in orphanages, without human contact for years, wouldn't be any different than kids who were raised in traditional homes.
I knew enough psychology to know that wasn't true. Because of my own past, I wished familial influence wasn't important, if only so I could say that I was who I was by my choice – that my family hadn't played any part in it.
I sighed. When things got this busy in my head, nothing I could do would stop it, no matter how much I wanted it to. No, the only thing I could do was let things run their natural course and hope that I'd fall asleep before dawn and get at least a couple hours in.
I couldn't breathe.
I didn't know how long I'd been here, bent over this bench-thing, only that my arms and legs had fallen asleep a while ago. At first, I hadn't minded. Before my limbs had gone numb, the chains had been biting into my wrists and ankles. What I hadn't realized was how much that pain had distracted me from everything else.
I was wearing only a thin, filmy dress. Nothing underneath. And the room was cold. It would warm up later, I knew. They kept it cold at first because if we started off hot, it would be sweltering by the time we were done. It didn't keep the goose bumps away or keep me from shivering. Only clenching my jaw was preventing my teeth from chattering. I hoped I'd warm enough to stop before they used my mouth. I knew that a bite, even an accidental one, would come with punishment.
The wooden bench had no padding on the top and the planks were rough. They'd probably made it that way, wanting me and others like me to get splinters. I knew that by the time they were done, my stomach and the bottom of my ribs would be raw and bruised.
The angle they'd bent me was making it hard to inhale, so each breath was shallow. All of my weight was on my knees and there was a deep ache in them. Even now, I knew the pain would be excruciating by the time they finished. Not a single part of me would make it through free from pain.
I heard them come in, but they stayed behind me so I couldn't see who they were or how many there were. I thought maybe ten, probably more. I heard women as well as men. They weren't talking loud enough for me to hear what they were saying, but I could hear the excitement buzzing.
I hated the waiting worst of all. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about all the different things they were going to do, all of the ways I was going to be hurt. When they started, at least then I could focus on the pain and it would block out everything else.
Then the pain began and it was everywhere.
Burning cigarettes were put out on my back.
Fabric cutting into my flesh as my dress was ripped off.
Fingers pinching and probing.
Then came the fucking.
They took turns everywhere they could, every way they could.
Some of them talked to each other, conversations about their lives as they waited for access. I heard one of the men talking about coaching his son's Little League team, then he stopped for his turn. Another woman kept petting my head.
No one talked to me, not unless grunts and foul names counted. At one point, I tried to keep track of the number of times I was called 'bitch' and 'cunt’, but I lost count after a while.
Finally, I thought they'd finished, but that was when one of them said they were ready for the real show.
When the door opened, I screamed.
I screamed until my voice was gone.
I passed out and they woke me up again.
It went on for hours. For years. It would never end. Never stop. The pain and humiliation. I'd never get away...
My eyes flew open, then closed involuntarily at the light. I wrenched them open again, even though it hurt. I didn't want to be in the dark again.