The Crash

Chapter 6

6

Simon flips through the pages of the contract as my heart beats so fast it feels like my chest might explode. For months, I have been trying to grasp any memory of that night. And now I can’t stop seeing it. Over and over and over .

Simon on top of me as my slurred voice pleads with him to stop.

“You raped me!” I blurt out.

Simon freezes, clutching the contract along with the nondisclosure agreement. “Excuse me?”

“You put a roofie or something in my drink!” I cry. “That’s why I can’t remember anything from that night. But I remember now. I remember begging you to stop, and you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t stop.” I cringe. “You told me to go back to sleep.”

His eyes flash, which gives his face a terrifying edge. “That’s absolutely preposterous! How could you accuse me of something like that, especially after how generous I’ve been?”

My temple throbs. “You mean after you raped me and got me pregnant?”

Simon looks over at Jackson for help. Jackson’s mouth hangs open as he stares at me. “Jackson,” Simon says, “do you hear this ridiculous accusation?”

“Yeah.” Jackson rakes a hand through his hair, stopping halfway through so it sticks up in the air. “Tegan, what are you talking about? You never said anything like this before.”

“It just came back to me! It was…it was his cologne.” I think I might vomit.

And now it feels like the floodgates have opened. I remember more—Simon whispering in my ear that we should “get out of here,” my head lolling in the back seat of his Porsche as he drove back to my hotel, him practically carrying me to the room. The terrifying part is that if I hadn’t come face-to-face with Simon and smelled his sickening cologne, I might not have remembered any of it.

I feel so disgusted. Dirty .

I can’t be near this man anymore, that’s for sure. I jump off the futon and run for the only place where I can have some privacy in this tiny studio apartment: the bathroom.

I slam the door behind me, leaning my weight against it. A contraction seizes my stomach, like a giant fist squeezing my uterus. I do not want to go into labor right now. I can’t even imagine having to deal with that with Simon still in my apartment. Please, Tuna, don’t do this to me. Not now.

But then the fist around my womb loosens. The contraction subsides.

A fist raps gently on the bathroom door. “Tegan?”

It’s Jackson’s voice. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing they would both go away.

“Tegan? Can I please come in? Please?”

I don’t want him to, but then I remind myself that this is not Simon. This is not the man who assaulted me. This is Jackson, the man who has been fighting for me to get a good deal and has been giving me cash from his own funds and who bought my daughter a present in a glittery pink bag.

Slowly, I back away from the bathroom door and crack it open just enough to allow Jackson to slide inside. The bathroom is appropriately tiny given the rest of the apartment, and it’s almost painfully cramped with the two of us inside. Jackson’s warm brown eyes stare at me through his coke-bottle lenses.

“Tegan,” he says, “what were you talking about back there?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, although I don’t know why I’m the one apologizing, because his boss is the one who is at fault. I am the victim . “Simon drugged me and he… Well, I told you what he did.”

He shakes his head, like he doesn’t understand what I’m trying to say. “Simon drugged you?”

“Yes, he did.”

“I don’t get it.” There’s a tremor in his voice. “All this time, you’ve been saying it was a one-night stand. And now…I mean, you really think he drugged and raped you?”

“Yes! I didn’t remember until I saw him. Until I smelled him.”

His mouth falls open. “ Smelled him? Tegan, is there…do you think there’s any chance you could just be, well, imagining this?”

“No. I’m not imagining it.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “It’s real , Jackson.”

I protectively hug my belly. I wish I hadn’t remembered what happened. It was easier thinking my daughter was conceived during a wild night of consensual, albeit drunken, sex. Now I have to live with this for the rest of my life. I will never stop seeing the image of what Simon did to me.

“Tegan,” Jackson says in an urgent whisper, “you need to sign that contract. Whatever you think happened, you need to put it behind you and sign the damn contract for your own good.”

“Whatever I think happened?” I repeat. “So you don’t believe me?”

“I’m trying to help you here. That contract will set you up for life. You have to sign it.”

“Answer the question. Do you believe me?”

He looks at me for a long time. Long enough that it’s clear what his real answer is even when he hedges. “What you’re saying is terrible, Tegan. I know you’re not making it up, but…I’ve known Simon a long time, and…I don’t know. You have to admit, you’re under a lot of stress right now…”

“He raped me, Jackson.” My voice cracks. “And if he did it to me, I bet he did it to other women.”

He drops his eyes, unable to look at me anymore. “Please sign this contract, Tegan. I’m begging you.”

“Or else what?”

He doesn’t answer me, but he doesn’t have to. The answer is obvious. Sign the contract, or else you and your baby will get nothing.

I push past him, wrenching open the bathroom door. Simon—that bastard—is standing in the middle of my living area, still holding the contract in his right hand.

“I’m not signing a nondisclosure agreement,” I say. “I’m going to the police.”

Simon’s gaze snaps over to Jackson. “You told me you were handling her.”

I feel a surge of disgust for these two men. Simon for what he did to me. And Jackson for trying to cover it up. I thought at least Jackson was a good guy, but I was so wrong. All this time, he was just “handling” me.

I wonder if Jackson knew the whole time. I wonder if I’m one of a long string of girls who he pretended to be kind to in order to keep them from coming forward with the truth.

“Get out of my apartment,” I say. “Right now.”

Simon holds up the contract in both his hands. “I am going to give you one more chance, Tegan,” he says. “I’m going to give you one more chance to accept this extremely generous offer for you and your child. But if you don’t take it, you won’t have another chance.”

I would be lying if I didn’t say I have a moment of hesitation. This offer is beyond generous. If I don’t take it, I may very well be living paycheck to paycheck for the rest of my life. I won’t be able to give my daughter the future I have dreamed for her. This money would change everything.

But then I think of my daughter as an adult. Twenty-two years old, enjoying a drink at a bar with a handsome stranger. And then his hand hovers just a little too long over her glass.…

No, I can’t let him get away with this. I have to do something. For all the other women he might hurt in the future.

For my daughter.

“I’m not signing,” I say again.

I wince as Simon tears up the contract right in front of me. He tosses the pieces back in his briefcase. “You are going to be very sorry, sweetheart,” he says. “And even sorrier if you try to go to the police. It’s your word against mine, and nobody will believe you. You don’t have one ounce of proof, and I will make sure you get destroyed in court. When this is all over, I’ll be suing you for defamation.”

I glance over at Jackson, who is avoiding my gaze. I shouldn’t be surprised though—he made his position known.

The two men grab their briefcases and leave my apartment without so much as a goodbye, taking the future of my little family with them.