Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Neisy
THEN
Everything is better once Kane arrives. Sensing my precarious mental health, my dad doesn’t object to Kane staying in my room, which would’ve been unthinkable before recent events. Having Kane’s arms around me takes me away from the hell of the last few weeks. I had to delete Facebook and stay completely away from the internet due to the viciousness directed at me since the charges against Ryder were made public.
A photo of him appearing at his arraignment was on the front page of the Hope Times and other local papers. Only because my father had been so adamant was Ryder charged in what the prosecutor has called a he-said, she-said case. They’re leaving it up to the judge to determine if the case should go forward.
In the article, it was reported that his longtime girlfriend, Louisa Davies, had recently entered hospice care after a long battle with Hodgkin’s Disease. The inclusion of that detail infuriated me. What does that have to do with the fact that he raped me? Even the media is taking his side or so it seems to me.
“Let’s take a road trip and get out of here for a while,” Kane suggests deep in the middle of his second night in my bed. I thought it would be next year in college before we’d ever get to spend a night together in a bed. What did I know? “You need a break from this madness.”
“That sounds like the best idea I’ve ever heard. Where should we go?”
“We’ll get in the car and drive. We’ll figure it out on the fly.”
“I’d love to do that.”
“Good. We’ll leave tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry your time here isn’t what we hoped it would be.”
He caresses my back. “You have no reason to apologize. All I need to be happy is you.”
“Same.” I rest my head on his chest and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat. I wake sometime later to a disturbance downstairs. Someone is pounding on the front door. I hear my dad running down the stairs.
“What’s happening?” Kane asks.
“Someone’s at the door.”
The clock on the bedside table reads three ten a.m.
I get out of bed and go to the door.
Someone is shouting at my father. “What’re you doing ? This will ruin his life ! Don’t you care at all that your daughter is lying ? My son doesn’t need to rape anyone. He could have any girl he wants!”
“You need to get out of here before I call the police,” my dad says in a cold tone I’ve never heard from him before.
“ Please. ” Mr. Elliott sounds as if he’s crying now. “Father to father. Can’t we work this out? Is it money you want? I can give you money.”
“ Get out of here ,” my dad says.
When Kane approaches me from behind and puts his hands on my shoulders, I startle.
“Easy, honey. Just me.”
I relax against him as my heart pounds like a jackhammer.
“I won’t let her ruin his life! I’ll ruin hers before she ruins his. She’s a liar! Everyone who knows her says that. We could end this right here, father to father.”
“I’m calling the police,” Kane says.
I want to tell him not to, that it’ll only make everything worse, but I’m afraid Mr. Elliott might hurt my dad.
In a matter of minutes, cars with blue-and-red flashing lights line our street.
Mr. Elliott screams obscenities as he’s taken into custody. “She’s a fucking liar! My son didn’t touch her!”
I realize I’m crying when Kane turns me into his embrace. “It’s okay, honey. He’s gone now.”
“It’s never going to be okay again.”
“Yes, it is. We’ll make sure of it.”
“How?”
My dad comes up the stairs, his face the picture of rage. “I’m sorry you had to hear that. He doesn’t want to believe his precious little boy is capable of such an atrocity.”
“I want to get her out of here,” Kane says. “Right now.”
“Where will you go?” Dad asks.
“Somewhere far, far from here.”
Dad is visibly undone.
My mother probably slept through the whole thing in a wine-fueled daze. I’m envious of her ability to punch out of life that way. If I hadn’t had such an up-close view of where it would lead, I might’ve started drinking this summer, too.
“I think that’s a good idea. Just drive away. We’ll figure out the rest later.”
“We might need you to reserve a hotel room for us,” Kane says.
Dad runs a trembling hand through his hair. “I’ll take care of whatever you need. Neisy has my card for emergencies. This certainly counts.”
“I can’t come back here, Dad.”
“I know. I’ll figure out a plan. Don’t worry about anything.”
He hugs me. “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”
“I’m staying with her,” Kane said. “I told my parents what happened. I think if you talk to them, Captain Sutton, we could make a case for me doing my senior year with Neisy. They’re due to move back to the states at Christmas anyway, and they were upset about disrupting my senior year. If you’re with us, they’d probably be okay with me staying.”
“I’ll talk to them. We’ll work it out.”
My heart takes flight at the possibility of Kane staying with me for this next school year. What was once so daunting now becomes manageable.
“Go ahead and pack. I want Neisy out of here.”
No one wants me out of here more than I do.
Kane and I take thirty minutes to pack clothes for a variety of weather along with swimsuits and sweatshirts. He said we may as well have some fun while we’re away, and I couldn’t agree more.
When we drive away from the house at four thirty that morning, I don’t look back. I hope to never be in this town again, except to testify against Ryder when that time comes. I look forward to that day. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he gets what’s coming to him, even if the thought of testifying makes my legs go weak and my palms get sweaty. I also realize that if I stay away, I may never see my beloved grandparents again. Fortunately, there’re plenty of other ways I can keep in touch with them from afar. I’ve taught them how to use an iPhone, and they’re hilarious with their texting.
My mom gently told them what’s going on, and they’ve been nothing but supportive—and devastated for me.
Kane reaches for my hand. “Take a deep breath, honey. Just keep breathing.”
“Thank you for this. You’ll never know how badly I needed you.”
“I’m here now, and I’m never leaving you again. Whatever happens next, we’re in this together.”
“We…we should talk about the baby.”
“We don’t need to talk about that right now. Let’s get out of here. There’ll be plenty of time for talking about the tough stuff later.”
I give his hand a squeeze and exhale for the first time since Mr. Elliott woke us earlier. If they don’t know where I am, they can’t touch me.
Or so I think.
Cam
THEN
The arraignments of my brother and father are surreal. Ryder is charged with first-degree sexual assault and my dad with harassing Neisy’s family. I couldn’t believe when he called me from jail and said he needed me to withdraw cash from the ATM to bail him out.
Ryder is pale and pinched as he stands before the judge. We were told he wouldn’t be required to enter a plea because the charge is a felony, punishable with more than fifteen years in prison. The next step is a probable cause hearing in a month at which the prosecutors will present their case. Witnesses can be called, and the judge will determine if there’s adequate evidence to proceed to trial.
The evidence thing worries me. What if Neisy had a rape kit done or saved her clothes or can somehow tie Ryder and his DNA to her?
Those worries keep me awake at night as I ponder the very real possibility of my brother going to prison. He was supposed to be headed to Annapolis. Now he could be looking at spending a big chunk of his life locked up if Neisy can convince a judge and jury that he raped her. Since I’ve known the truth of what really happened, I find myself thinking of her almost as often as I do him.
How could he have done such a thing when we were brought up to respect women and to treat girls the way we’d want our own sisters treated?
These last few weeks have been the worst of my life, and I fear it could be just the start.
Sienna reaches for my hand.
I’d forgotten how she came to the courthouse to support me without checking with me first. I would’ve told her not to come.
I think she’s mostly here to be on the front lines of the salacious details more than anything.
Maybe that’s not fair to her, but whatever. I don’t care about anything other than freeing my brother—and now my father, too—from this horrific situation.
My dad is arraigned next and pleads not guilty to a misdemeanor harassment charge. The lawyer told us he’ll probably be convicted since the police arrested him outside of Neisy’s home at three in the morning.
As a respected naval officer, Captain Sutton’s testimony will carry weight with the judge.
Following his arrest, Dad was put on administrative leave—without pay—from his job at the worst possible time. Lawyer bills are adding up for Ryder, and now dad is out of work and has added to the legal bill. In his case, the sentence for harassment is a five-hundred-dollar fine, up to a year in prison or both.
It’s just our luck that the statewide media has taken an interest in the case of the young woman who accused the athletic and academic standout of rape while his longtime girlfriend was dying of cancer. To an outsider looking in, it must sound like a movie of the week.
To us, it’s a nightmare that’s overtaken almost every waking moment.
When we emerge from the courthouse, we’re swarmed by media wanting a statement from Ryder or dad or even me. I can’t believe it when one of them calls me by name, as if we know each other, asking if I plan to stick by my brother.
I want to tell him to fuck off.
Rather, I tighten my grip on Sienna’s hand and head for my Jeep. We’ll deal with her car later.
Ryder gets in the back seat.
The ride home is silent and full of unbearable stress.
I’d give anything to go back to that night at Houston’s party. I would’ve stuck like glue to Ryder, making it so he couldn’t sneak off with Neisy and commit a felony.
I’ve gone over it and over it in my mind and have no recollection of him or Neisy leaving the party. There were a lot of people there. Hundreds, if I had to guess. It wasn’t possible to track what people were doing. The police are talking to everyone who was there. If even one person says they saw Ryder leave with her or follow her or do anything with her, we’re totally screwed.
I glance at my brother in the mirror. He’s staring out the window. “Are you okay, Ry?”
“Sure, never better.”
“She’ll have to prove it,” Sienna says. “How will that happen?”
We have no answers, so neither of us replies.
We’re too busy praying she can’t prove it.