Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
It’s Thursday. Time to deal with what happened.
On Tuesday and Wednesday, Ray had walked the first two beaches at La Push, handing off her distress to the waves rolling in and out.
Breathing in the sea air, watching the sunsets.
Exploring tide pools for sea stars, anemones, and crabs.
Watching the surf froth around the sea stacks.
Trees grew on top of the rocks—and she took heart from their rugged endurance.
Now, after a hike through the rain forest, she’d come down to beach three—the most isolated one. Her mind was quiet, her emotions settled. It was time to think.
Close to the surf’s edge, she settled onto on a massive, bleached log. The fog had disappeared, leaving the sky a deep blue with white cloud fluffs. The end of August was a fine time for the shore.
Watching the waves roll in, she considered her reaction to the voice on the phone and what had happened with Drake.
The first thing that came to mind was Drake’s question: Why hadn’t Blaize’s voice set her off before? She’d spoken with him in the coffee shop with Marisol and, again, at the club. He’d been polite, charming even, and possessed a cultured tenor.
But.
What she heard over the speaker phone on Monday sure hadn’t been a smooth tenor. When he lost his temper, he’d been loud and rough. And foul.
Memories flitted through her mind in gray remnants of fog. Filmy, impossible to capture. However, during the assault, someone had called her a ‘dismal fuckface’ in exactly that tone and voice.
Maybe others would think there was room for doubt.
Her lip curled, baring her teeth. I recognized your voice; I know it was you.
Come to think of it… When Blaize asked her out, there’d been something unsettling in his expression. In his smile. She’d thought he was trying to one-up Drake.
But what if Blaize’s smirk was because he remembered her? If he’d been one of the men who assaulted her… She shuddered. What if it suited his warped nature to do it again?
Clammy sweat rose on her skin, and her stomach turned over. Yes, he’d been there that night.
Even worse, he probably hadn’t changed. Was still hurting young women.
Oh gods of the universe.
She hunched over, resting her forehead on her knees. What should I do?
I have to do something.
Breathing hard, she wrapped her arms around her legs. Think, Ray.
She could hardly point a finger at Mr. Well-respected Blaize and expect anyone to believe her. So perhaps the first step would be talking with the submissives on the list Mac and Hope had given her. Find out if the campus BDSM club was still active.
An ugly feeling tightened her chest. She’d reported the incident to the club president and assumed he’d investigate. Report the problem. Had he? Or was he part of it?
There was nothing she could do until she got back.
She pulled in a slow breath and straightened up.
For a few minutes, she listened to the waves, the low rumble, the hissing on the sand. Light glittered on the water. Sandpipers were running about on the beach. A white-haired man and woman nodded at her as they strolled past. Holding hands.
So sweet.
Back to thinking, Ray. The next question in her heart was a tough one. What about Drake?
She hadn’t been able to deal with what had happened. But in every quiet moment, she’d relived their time together. And her brain had shied away from the last horrible morning. Time to unpack what had happened.
She went into the great room and heard Blaize’s voice.
Had a panic attack.
Drake talked her down.
Then her accusation.
His response.
She frowned. He didn’t actually say I was lying. He offered possible reasons for my panic—and still didn’t say I was full of shit, even though I basically accused his friend of rape.
She scowled, squinting at the light dancing on the waves.
If a friend of mine insisted Hope was a murderer, would I immediately agree? Or would I be shocked and then start asking questions to get at the full story.
Drake’s reaction had been understandable, hadn’t it? She dug her shoe into the sand. All the times she’d been accused of lying—by Pa, by teachers, by Theodore—had left her…sensitive. Naturally, she figured Drake assumed she was lying when he didn’t immediately agree with her.
Frigging hell. I really did overreact. And then essentially ghosted him.
He’d always been reasonable, concerned for her, caring. What a deplorable way to treat someone she’d said she loved. And she still loved him.
Guilt swept over her, and she tried to force it back. Her behavior was…was understandable. And Drake could have reassured her better. She scrunched up her face—because he would have been more careful if he’d realized how she was taking his questions.
I messed up. And I ran. Dammit, I promised myself I’d stop running from interpersonal altercations.
Fancy words, Ray. Just say you’re a coward when it comes to dealing with people.
She’d work on it; she would.
Only it might be too late. He might not love me any longer. The thought…hurt way down deep. She had to blink hard to keep the tears at bay.
But there were things to do. Predators to deal with.
And Master Drake to face.
Rising, she turned and set out on the hike back to her cabin.