Part 11 (1/2)

It meant so much to me that he cared so deeply. If it had happened to one of my dearest friends, I would be reacting the same way. This was my battle, though, not his.

”Who the f.u.c.k is this guy? What's his f.u.c.king name?” he growled out like an angry, caged animal, ready to pounce at any given moment. ”I want his f.u.c.king name!”

I would do anything to soothe him-anything-except what he was demanding of me. I just couldn't. This wasn't his battle.

Shaking my head, I directed a disappointing look at him. ”No,” I softly whispered, dejected.

”Why the f.u.c.k are you protecting him?” He gave me a look like he thought I had lost my mind. ”He f.u.c.king took advantage of you. He-he-” Roughly, he huffed out, trying to conjure up the words. ”He-” he tried again as pain etched all over his face before giving me those eyes that reached deep into my soul, into my heart, telling me he felt my pain. ”He raped you, Amber. How can you protect someone like that?” he asked in a little, broken voice that crushed me.

Rob raped me. But it wasn't that easy, was it?

”It wasn't as if I didn't enjoy it. I mean, I remember flashes. I remember liking it...”

What he did was wrong, but at the same time, I couldn't lay all the blame on him. I was the one who had placed myself in that position. Had I been a responsible adult, I wouldn't have been making such idiotic decision. Yet, I did and I was paying for it. So if I gave in and told him Rob's name, it was a whole different problem to tackle, and quite frankly, I wasn't ready to face that. I was too frightened, too broken to even consider spilling any of it.

”You were on f.u.c.king ecstasy; of course you f.u.c.king liked it! That drug was made for that specific reason,” he harshly ground out, frustrated that I wasn't seeing his argument. ”The point is, you said no, and he didn't f.u.c.king listen to you. I don't care what he told you, but under no circ.u.mstances can a guy force a woman to have s.e.x then persistently tell her that wasn't rape.”

The second time he said the word rape, I felt as if chains were wrapped around my neck, controlling my breathing, choking me.

”This is all just too much...” Frantically, I sought his eyes, hoping he would stop for a second, because I felt like the walls were closing in on me, and I wasn't sure what I would do once I felt trapped. ”I can't handle this.”

Brody reached towards me, seeking my hand then tightly holding it in his. ”Then let me handle it. Let me take care of this for you. Let me help-f.u.c.k!” he desperately begged, beseeching. ”How did this happen? This is all my fault!”

”No, don't blame yourself.” The last thing I ever wanted after confessing about that night was for him to feel guilty or feel as though I was his responsibility. I was far from that.

”I was hostile when you first got here. I was being a d.i.c.k because I couldn't stand the thought of you in Carter's bed, in his room, probably doing the things I used to do to you. It was eating me alive. I could barely sleep just thinking about it. In the beginning, I thought it was because Lindsey had gotten married. That influenced it, too, but when I came out of my room and heard you two laughing inside his bedroom-well, I knew you were a major part of my sleepless nights.”

His confession rendered me-wtf? Did he just tell me he was jealous without really using the d.a.m.n word itself? What!

”Please ... Tell me who this f.u.c.ker is so he can be served for what he did to you,” Brody pressed on, redirecting my thoughts back to the problem at hand, which was to make him stop pursuing Rob's ident.i.ty.

”No.” I had to put my foot down, ready to be graced with his angry backlash. ”I don't want people looking at me differently; they already do. No, I can't embarra.s.s myself this way. It's just too humiliating even thinking about it. And for me to go the route you intend to take? f.u.c.k, I just can't do it. I'm sorry. Call me a coward, whatever, but I can't f.u.c.king do it, Brody.”

He stilled, not quite happy about my unwavering stance, then took another route. ”If he's going to do this to you, he'll do it to someone else. Are you really going to let another girl go through this? You're all sorts of f.u.c.ked up. If you could prevent this, why wouldn't you?”

”Because...” I'm afraid. Because, once I do, there's no going back.

I would forever be a victim, and I didn't want to see myself that way. I could get through this without needing to tell the rest of the population about the humiliating experience. I couldn't bear it.

Giving him a pleading look, I said, ”I have to go. I need to breathe.” Hastily, I scoured the room for my purse, ready to head out the door. I could feel the chain around my neck tightening as the walls closed around me, ready to confine me, trap me.

”Let me come with you,” he offered at the last second as I opened the door, about to sprint out of there like the hounds of h.e.l.l were chasing me.

Giving him one last glance, I said, ”No. I need to be alone.”

He solemnly nodded. ”I'll stay in this room,” he said, knowing where my thoughts were leading and willing to give me that breathing s.p.a.ce I was desperate for. ”I'll wait for you.”

I could have breathed out a thank you, but I didn't have the capacity to do even that. Brody was too much on top of everything else. I just couldn't deal with it all at once. He meant well, but at this moment, I needed to regroup and calm down.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't put myself through the process. Women had to be careful whom they partied with because no one was safe from predatory men. They were everywhere, and some got caught and punished, but some freely walked around as if they had done nothing wrong. And I bet with my life, most predators were free; little were caught because of women like me.

At the end of the day, I had to do what was right for me, though, not for everyone. I paid my dues by choosing a dark, stupid path, and I learned my lesson. Sometimes it was better to lock it down, suffer alone, and get through it the best as I possibly could.

Brody could judge me all he wanted, but I had been through so much as it was, so there was no way in h.e.l.l I would ever tell another soul what I had gone through that night. Relaying the story of that night had already been a nightmare. I couldn't go through that again. That was enough. It was all I could muster. No more ... no more.

For me to get through this ordeal, I had to learn how to forgive myself. Then, maybe in time, things would change for the better.

Chapter Twenty-One.

It was already past midnight when I decided to get in my car to aimlessly drive around. I felt like a woman on the verge of a meltdown, and no matter what I did, it seemed as if nothing was helping me lift my spirits. I wasn't necessarily crying, though my eyes were moist from the hard encounter I'd had with Brody. I wasn't necessarily angry, yet I could feel my temper flare at any given moment. It was as though I couldn't control my emotions and was simply watching it play out, praying I wouldn't do something I would regret.

Therefore, I drove while my mind busied itself playing images of Brody's horrified face, him blaming himself for what had happened, and then the genuine concern in his eyes when he told me he would wait until I came home.

My thoughts drove me to hit up the one spot that was always open to give me a helping hand-the liquor store. The moment I got there, I shot out of the car before barging inside the d.a.m.n place, going immediately through the aisles to the hard stuff. My eyes lazily scanned the bottles then decided on the Patron and Jack Daniels. The guy barely looked up to ask to check for my i.d. before he took the items and rung them on the till. After I paid with cash, I quickly jumped back inside the car and drove towards the beach, hoping the fresh air and the sound of the calming waves would clear my troubled mind.

With two bottles in hand, I lowered the windows down just so I could hear the sound of the waves cras.h.i.+ng against the sandy sh.o.r.e. Then I opened one bottle after the other, taking a sip, tasting the one on my right before resuming the one on my left. I wanted to get lost, so this was the best I could do.

There was this rotten need inside of me to purge myself off all the awful things I had held inside for so long. I couldn't keep on going, living life the way I was: full of pessimism, insecurity, and lacking of self-worth.

So I drank until I no longer could.

Then, once I realized I'd had enough of it, I closed the cap on both bottles and drove back to Carter's house, hoping I could just get into bed and dream of another world, one where I was wanted and happy.

~A~.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting with Brody when I got back inside the house, but true to his word, he had stayed in Carter's room.

It was about five in the morning when I arrived, so I wasn't all that shocked to find him fast asleep on Carter's couch. What made me smile a little was the food he had on the table with a note stating that he brought it up there while he waited, as if he wanted to make sure he was there when I arrived. I stood there, mesmerized, as I felt all these powerful emotions surged from my heart while I watched him with careful eyes.

I scrutinized his beautifully chiseled face, seeming peaceful, while I stood in the quiet silence, etching him-this moment-into memory.

Maybe it was the intensity of my gaze that woke him from a deep slumber, but when he woke, he almost jumped out of his skin, shocked like a complete weirdo who'd caught a ghost staring at him.

”Amber?” he asked before he fully opened his sleepy eyes.

”Hey,” I finally said, slumping next to him on the couch, still a little bit drunk, a little sprung on love, a little confused, and just a little, wee bit h.o.r.n.y.

Glancing at me, he took a quick sniff towards me, immediately detecting something.

”You've been drinking?” he asked before taking a major whiff of me like a dog that smelled food in the air. ”I waited hours and hours for you while you were out getting drunk? Are you kidding me?”

”I'm sorry.”

I watched his face run through all sorts of emotions before he hastily shook his head. ”No, I don't want to hear that you're sorry. You can't keep doing this to yourself. You have to stop!”

”You're right,” I meekly whispered before I brazenly stood up and began to strip my clothes away one by one, bit by bit, until I was left with my cowboy boots on. Alone.