23. Chapter 23
Chapter 23
Paige blinked at the brightly lit Walgreens store, not knowing how she’d gotten there. She vaguely remembered fleeing David’s loft and getting in her car, but after that … nothing until the parking lot she was currently parked in. Rolling down her window, she let the air outside cool her hot skin; she’d never felt so ashamed in her life, and she burned from the inside with it.
The expression on David’s face had been reminiscent of the expression he’d worn the night he’d told her he was leaving her, and it was like her worst nightmare coming true. Paige sat there shaking, not knowing how to fix what she’d done, or if it could be fixed. She’d crossed a pretty big line, so chances were pretty good she and David were a done deal, and this time it really was her fault.
Needing to talk to Jules, Paige reached into her purse, only to discover her phone wasn’t in it. She’d apparently been in too much of a hurry when she’d left the loft to retrieve it from the floor, but then she’d also not taken the time to put her bra on, either, which officially made her a train wreck. A train wreck in need of a phone.
She glanced around the parking lot, hoping there might be a pay phone nearby she could use, but really not expecting there to be one. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a pay phone—let alone actually used one—and was wondering if pay phones even existed anymore when she spotted one along the side of the building, to the left of the automatic sliding doors.
They did exist. And hopefully, this one worked.
Grabbing her purse, Paige made her way to the wall-mounted phone, which was partially surrounded by a metal frame. She set her purse on the metal shelf underneath and started foraging for change. The cost of a call was now fifty cents, so after finding some quarters, Paige gingerly lifted the handset off the hook and rubbed the ear and mouth pieces on her pant leg in an attempt to wipe off at least one layer of grime, before putting two quarters in the slot. At the dial tone, she paused to think of Jules’s number for several seconds, then punched it in.
It was answered almost immediately. “Yeah?”
Unless Jules was letting strange men who sounded like they were stoned surfers from southern California answer her phone, Paige had probably dialed the wrong number. With a sigh, she quickly apologized and disconnected the call.
She inserted two more quarters, then dialed again. This time, the phone rang several times before being picked up. “Hello?”
“Jules. Thank God,” Paige choked out, the sound of her friend’s voice unleashing a small wave of tears.
“Paige?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m calling from a pay phone.”
“Oh, my God, I almost didn’t answer. Why are you calling from a pay phone?”
“I accidentally left my phone at David’s, but I needed to talk to you, so—”
“Do you know how dirty pay phones are? Jesus, I read somewhere that they have more germs than public toilets.”
At that, Paige pulled the phone a few inches away from her face. “Jules, please. I need to talk to you.”
“Wait. Are you crying? What’s wrong?”
Paige wiped at her nose. “I’m a rapist. That’s what’s wrong.”
“You’re a what? What are you talking about?”
“I’m. A. Rapist.”
After a very pregnant pause, Jules told her, “Hold on for a second.”
There was almost a minute of muffled conversation on the other end of the line, and Paige knew that she’d interrupted Jules and a man.
“All right,” Jules said, coming back on the line. “I’m back.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. You’re busy—”
“I’m never too busy for you, and he was sort of on the douchebag spectrum, anyway. Now, what do you mean, you’re a rapist?”
“I handcuffed David to his bed, and then I basically raped him. That’s what I mean.”
“Slow down. You handcuffed him to his bed?”
“It was his idea.”
“His idea?”
“Yes. And his handcuffs. Well, he bought them for me to use on him,” Paige explained, then put her hand to her face. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“I left him handcuffed to his bed. This is so bad.” She leaned her forehead against the metal frame surrounding the pay phone, ignoring how dirty it was. “How am I just now remembering that? Jesus, what’s wrong with me?”
Jules snorted out a quick laugh before she could stop herself.
“This isn’t funny,” Paige admonished her.
“I know. Of course it’s not,” Jules agreed, but there was still amusement in her voice when she added, “I can’t help picturing it, though—not his peen, of course, because that would be wrong—but the handcuffed to the bed part. Speaking of which … did you take a picture?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
“Because I want to know.”
“Why would I take a picture?”
“He was naked and cuffed to his bed. Why wouldn’t you take a picture?”
“Because I didn’t. I raped him, instead.” Paige sniffed loudly and then wiped at her nose again, which was now running like Niagara Falls.
“Look, I’m sure you didn’t rape him.”
Jules was obviously trying to be a calming influence but Paige wasn’t in the mood. “Now isn’t the time to blow smoke up my ass. I’m in trouble, here.”
“Okay, sorry. Look, why don’t you start from the beginning? And maybe give me the abridged version, since you probably need to get back to him pretty soon. I mean, depending how long you’ve been gone, he might be really freaking out. I’m sure time passes a lot differently when you’re cuffed to a bed, right?”
“You mean like dog years?”
“Maybe. I’ve never been handcuffed to a bed, so ...”
When Paige didn’t respond to that for a few seconds, Jules asked, “How long have you been gone?”
“Fifteen minutes, maybe.”
“You don’t know for sure?”
“I don’t even know how I got here, to be honest, so fifteen minutes is my best guess. When I finally realized I was raping David, I got … off him … then apparently put some clothes on and left the loft. I barely remember getting in my car, and I don’t remember driving here.”
“Where’s ‘here’?”
“A Walgreens parking lot.”
Jules took a deep breath. “But you’re okay, right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Okay, good. Now, tell me what happened.”
Paige gave a quick recap of the evening’s events, but when she got to where everything went south, she started to slow down as she re-lived it. “I was just … overcome, I guess. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life and I just …”
“Put his dick inside you?”
“Yes. It felt so good and I was really getting into it—”
“Yeah, that happens,” Jules murmured dryly.
“—but then he was telling me to stop. He looked so upset, almost horrified, like someone who was being fucked against their will.”
“Wait. Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
There was silence for several moments, before Jules said, “That doesn’t make any sense. The whole point of your sex arrangement with David was to have sex, so the fact that you two were having sex shouldn’t have horrified him, since you were both getting what you wanted. Unless … maybe he had his heart set on being the one to do the instigating? But, I don’t know. That seems really flimsy, to me.” She sighed. “Honestly, I would’ve thought he’d be thrilled to have you take the initiative.”
“Me too. Especially since it’s kind of a fantasy of his.”
“It is?”
Paige gave her the watered-down details of David’s fantasy.
“Okay, now this really doesn’t make sense,” Jules mused. “Are you sure he wasn’t into it?”
“Yes, I’m sure. You should’ve seen his face. I didn’t imagine that.”
“I’m sure you didn’t, but if he truly wasn’t into it, then there had to be something else going on.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. You’ll need to ask him.”
“Yeah, if he’s still talking to me after I raped him.”
“Honestly, I doubt he’s really that upset with you—at least not for that reason, anyway. I think this is going to turn out to be nothing more than a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Trust me. This is going to end up being a funny story you can tell at parties.”
“I’m not telling anyone else this story. And neither are you,” Paige warned.
“Obviously, I would never,” Jules reassured her. “Now go set the man free before he starts chewing through his arm.”
“Um, thanks.”
“Just kidding. I’m pretty sure he’d find a way to break his headboard before he chewed through his arm, so you probably don’t need to worry about that.”
Paige looked up at the night sky for a moment. “Why did I think calling you was a good idea? Especially from a disgusting pay phone.”
“Because I always have the answers. Now go set David free and have a conversation—but take a picture before you do—”
Paige hung up, actually enjoying the physical aspect of it, not to mention the satisfying noise the handset made when it got slammed down onto the hook. Then she got back into her car, and after blowing her nose with some fast-food napkins she had stashed in her glove box, began the drive back to the loft, trying to figure out what she was going to say to David when she got there.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to say anything because he wasn’t even home.
Wondering where he’d gone (not to mention how he’d gotten loose), her perplexed eyes lingered on the leather cuffs laying haphazardly on the bed, as if they had been thrown off; she could only hope it hadn’t been in a fit of rage.
Paige retrieved her phone from the floor and as soon as she unlocked it, saw there were a dozen or more texts from David, as well as a shit-ton of missed calls and voicemails. When she was done reading the texts and listening to the messages, she texted him back, feeling like utter shit that she’d made him worry about her. She was also a little confused because he was confused as to what had happened.
Shouldn’t he know he’d been raped?