Violated (32 page)

“What?” Russ asked.

“It was when I went to college, after Marty died. I withdrew from everyone for a while, because… nobody understood.”

Russ hadn’t known about this. He’d been too wrapped up in his senior year and high school graduation to think much about what was going on with his sister a hundred miles east at the university. Now he felt as if he’d let her down—again. “You could have called me,” he said defensively.

Shannon laughed gently and shook her head. “No, sweetie. I couldn’t. You wouldn’t have been able to help me anyway.”

“What
could
have helped you?” Russ demanded.

“I don’t know. Maybe having someone to talk to who’d gone through the same thing. That’s why I tried to reach out to Derek. But maybe that isn’t what
he
needs right now.”

Russ glanced over at Bill, and their eyes met. He could see the pain there and the frustration. But Bill hadn’t been in a position to do anything for Shannon in those days either. They hadn’t even met until seven years after she graduated from UNH.

“Maybe I’m not the right man for him,” Russ said. It sounded pathetic and self-pitying, but he couldn’t help it. “I’ll never really understand what he’s going through. And I’m not a therapist.”

He saw Bill glance at Shannon, and when he looked back at Russ, there was little doubt he was feeling the same way.

But Shannon watched the silent exchange between the two men and smiled indulgently. She slid across the couch to tuck herself into Bill’s arms. “You two,” she soothed. “This isn’t about either of you. Bill, you’re all I need. And Russ… just give Derek some time to get his head together. If he needs you—
when
he needs you—he’ll know where to find you.”

“What if he doesn’t ever need me?”

“He will.”

D
EREK
GAVE
up around ten o’clock. What exactly he was giving up on, he didn’t know. Maybe waiting up for Russ to come home. But that was pointless. Russ would probably spend the night in Keene.

Where I should be right now
.

But he’d made his choice. He just hoped Russ was having a better Christmas than he was having. Derek had watched every Christmas movie he could think of, drank a quart of store-bought eggnog, and eaten a frozen turkey dinner.

He took Gracie out one last time and stood on the stoop, protected from the pouring rain by the small overhang while she peed. He craned his neck to see if there were any lights coming from Russ’s cabin, but everything looked dark down there. When Gracie came back inside, he had to wipe her down with a bath towel.

As he locked up for the night and turned off the lights in the living room and kitchenette, he glanced sadly at the wrapped Blu-Ray discs on the bar. They’d keep, he supposed. But it would have been nice to give them to Russ before the day ended.

R
USS
CAME
home that night around midnight. Shannon had tried to convince him to stay overnight in Keene, but his heart just wasn’t in it. He wanted to be near Derek, even if he couldn’t be with him. Yeah, he knew he was being pathetic, but he couldn’t help himself.

On the drive back, he toyed with the idea of stopping in to see Derek. After all, it was Christmas. It wouldn’t be too out of line to stop in for a minute and wish him Merry Christmas, would it?

When he pulled into the parking lot, his hopes were dashed. Derek’s cabin was completely dark. His car was there, so he was probably home. But obviously he’d gone to bed early. Russ got out of his car, taking his overnight bag and the small bag of presents he’d received with him. Max trotted ahead down the path, and to Russ’s dismay, the dog ran right up to the side door of Derek’s cabin.

“Come on, boy!” Russ hissed, trying not to make much noise. “We’re not going there tonight.”

Reluctantly Max doubled back and caught up to him on his way down the hill. By the time they reached their own cabin, both dog and master were wet through. Russ just hoped none of his presents had been damaged. Most of them had been tools, anyway.

He let himself and Max into the kitchen and flipped on the light. The heat had been turned down, since he hadn’t planned to be there for a couple of days, and now it was chilly. He set his bags down and then went into the living room to nudge the thermostat up a few degrees.

Beside the couch, Derek’s present sat—a 6400-watt Champion generator with electric start, capable of powering Derek’s entire cabin for maybe six hours on a full tank of gas. It had cost him about five hundred dollars, which put a serious dent in his checking account, but it was something nobody in New Hampshire should be without, especially if he lived out in the boonies. Unfortunately Russ was convinced Derek wouldn’t want it now. Not from him, anyway.

He sighed and turned away, not wanting to think about it anymore.

He’d even put a goddamn red bow on it.

T
HE
FOLLOWING
Tuesday, Derek received a phone call from Mr. Michaelson, the lawyer the state of Florida had appointed to him. By now it had been over a month since Derek had gone to Tampa, and he’d convinced himself nothing more was going to happen on that front. But Michaelson told him, “The DA has reviewed your case, and he’s offering a plea bargain to Mr. Salko’s lawyer.”

“A plea bargain?” Derek asked, confused. Wasn’t that something he should have been consulted on?

“Aggravated sexual assault—rape—is a felony. If Mr. Salko agrees to plead no contest to a lesser sexual assault charge, he’ll pay a fine and avoid prison time.”

In other words, he’d walk.

“What?” Derek exclaimed. “No! That’s ridiculous!”

Mr. Michaelson sighed and continued with exaggerated patience. “Mr. Sawyer, the only evidence we have to support your claim that Mr. Salko
raped
you is that the hotel did find blood and urine on the sheets of one of the beds—”

“
Well, then
?”

“It’s not enough to take to court. His lawyer could easily suggest the two of you were simply… playing… and things got a bit rough.”

“And we
pissed
on each other?”

“It’s not unheard of.”

You fucker. You… goddamn… homophobic… motherfucker….
Derek had no doubt Mr. Michaelson believed that was the way it happened, and now Derek was just pissed off because Victor hadn’t bought him dinner first or some stupid shit like that. He barely managed to keep his temper in check when he asked, “What if I don’t want a plea bargain?”

“Trust me, Mr. Sawyer. This is the best thing for both you and Mr. Salko. You’ll be able to get it resolved without a long, painful trial—one you would be likely to lose. You’ll be able to report to your employer that the accusation against you was resolved in your favor. As I understand it, you’ve been having trouble finding new employment as a result of Mr. Salko’s accusations.”

“Yes.”

“Part of the plea bargain will be that he has to rescind that. So your career can get back on track.”

The longer Mr. Michaelson talked, the more outraged Derek became. But after he’d hung up the phone and hyperventilated for a while, he eventually realized one good thing had come out of this conversation—for the first time in months, his anger at the injustice of the situation was stronger than the fear and shame he’d grown accustomed to.

He thought about calling Russ. Things were still awkward between them. They hadn’t spoken since before Christmas; the Blu-Ray discs still sat wrapped in white-and-silver paper on Derek’s bar. But Russ would want to know about the new development, wouldn’t he?

He decided to hold off. It was midafternoon, and Russ was probably working. His Outback hadn’t been in the parking lot when Derek took Gracie outside earlier. There was no point in disturbing him on the job. Maybe this would be a good reason to walk down the hill and talk to him face-to-face after he got home that night.

“T
HAT
WAS
Barkley down in Tampa,” Chavez said over the phone. “He says the DA’s going for a plea bargain.”

Russ swore under his breath. He hadn’t really expected more than that, but it pissed him off nonetheless. “Should we call Derek?”

“If he hasn’t been contacted, he will be,” she pointed out.

He knew that. The case wasn’t in their hands anymore. Barkley had just kept them in the loop as a courtesy.

Russ sighed. Derek was going to be pissed, even more than he was. But there wasn’t anything they could do at this point. If the DA didn’t want to prosecute, they couldn’t force him to. And a criminal trial might not do Derek much good, anyway. Prosecutions often humiliated and retraumatized victims of sexual assault.

Though letting Victor walk free sure as hell won’t make him happy
.

He put his cell phone back in his pocket and wrestled one of the grocery carts free of the queue. He had a ton of errands to run after he’d finished shopping. He thought about giving Derek a call, but it would be awkward, since they hadn’t spoken in over two weeks now. Better to wait until after he’d gotten home. Then he could stop by and they could talk in person.

Assuming Derek wanted to see him.

D
EREK
HAD
fallen out of the habit of locking his door when he was home. He and Tim had kept the condo locked in Portsmouth all the time, of course, but out on the lake, the cabin seemed so isolated he rarely thought about it. He did lock it when he went to the gym that afternoon, but when he returned after sunset, he took Gracie out to pee and then went back inside, closing the door without thinking about the lock.

He thought about calling Russ. Maybe he’d just walk down to his cabin. The Outback wasn’t in the parking lot, though Derek had seen it there earlier, so it was likely Russ had the day off. He might be back any time now. But Derek was dripping with sweat and smelled like armpit. It would be better to shower before seeing him.

He showered, toweled off, and walked naked out into the living room with the towel around his waist.

Something was wrong.

Gracie was by the cold fireplace, her head lowered and her ears lying flat against her skull. When Derek saw her, she glanced at him and whimpered.

“What is it, girl?”

Then he smelled it—that god-awful cologne Victor wore, reeking of leather and sweat. Derek felt his face blanch and that too-familiar feeling of ice in his bowels from which he’d only recently begun to free himself.

God, no
….

A massive hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. The towel dropped off his hips at the same time, so when he faced Victor he was completely naked, his ass pressed painfully into the wooden top edge of the couch. When Victor leaned in close and spoke, Derek could smell the vodka on his breath. “You goddamn pussy!”

Derek couldn’t move. His brain was screaming
Run, you idiot!
But he was rooted to the spot, frozen in terror. Gracie was barking ferociously at Victor now, but she was too frightened to attack him. Derek was acutely aware of his nudity, his dick trying to crawl up into his crotch, his asshole clenching shut in terror.
He’s gonna do it again! Jesus Christ! He’s gonna do it again!

Victor gripped his shoulder hard, digging his fingers into his flesh as he yelled, “We were best friends! It shouldn’t’ve been that big a deal! We saw each other naked all the time. We were fuckin’ horny.
No big deal!
”

“You raped me!” Derek was surprised to hear his own voice, squeaking like a tiny, quivering mouse.

Victor raised his eyebrows, startle for a split second. Then he bellowed and struck Derek hard in the center of the chest. “
Fuck you
!”

The blow sent Derek somersaulting over the back of the couch. His shoulder rammed down into the seat cushion on the other side, but what hurt was his hip arcing over and striking the coffee table. He screamed and tumble to the floor, Gracie yelping in fear as his knee came close to hitting her.

Russ! Save me!
But he knew it was hopeless. Russ was in his cabin, but he might as well have been on the other side of the planet. He wouldn’t hear anything. He wouldn’t think to stop by—not after Derek had snubbed him for weeks.

He’s gonna kill me this time! I’m gonna die!

“All I did was fuck you, you goddamn cocksucker!” Victor yanked him off the floor and tossed his naked body onto the couch. “You wanted it! You fucking
wanted
it!”

“No!” Derek shrieked.

Victor kicked the coffee table out of the way, narrowly missing Gracie. The dog scurried a few feet away with her tail between her legs but turned back bravely to bark and try to scare him away from her helpless master.

“I gave you what you wanted, and now you’re tryin’ to ruin my fuckin’ life!”

Derek was having trouble breathing. “I didn’t… want….”

“You wanna drag me to court?” Victor batted at Derek’s legs as they flailed about in a useless attempt to keep him at bay. “Get me
fired
? Have a fuckin’
felony
charge put on my record? Make me register as a goddamned
sex offender
?”

He managed to snag Derek’s ankles in his hands and yank his legs apart. Derek screamed, more from terror than pain, as his crotch was spread open before Victor like an offering.

No! No! No!

His scream must have emboldened Gracie, because she leapt forward and sank her teeth into Victor’s leg. He roared and whirled as if to attack her.

Gracie!

Victor didn’t hit her, but he shouted, “Get off me, you fuckin’ dog!” and loosed his hold on Derek’s legs.

Derek kicked hard, freeing himself. His left heel connected with Victor’s gut, and with a tremendous
ooff!
Victor toppled backward over the arm of the couch. Gracie had the sense to let go of his leg and run to Derek as her master tumbled off the couch and scrambled to his feet.