22. Rage
22
Rage
4 Months Later
Chelsea
“Perfect,” I whisper to myself as I hang the last picture on the wall. It’s one of us on the hood of Trevor’s car at the Grand Canyon. The way the sun halos us in the shot gives it an old school ’80s or ’90s look.
Driving to the Grand Canyon was our big summer trip. Between me helping out at the counseling center in Ida and working at my family’s campground, and Trevor doing his internship with the Boys and Girls Club and being a fantastic commentator for the Binghamton Knights, we were busy, but we made sure to have fun. Two weeks before school started, his internship finished, so we got on the road and drove to the Grand Canyon, exploring lots of the rest of the country along the way. We ate some fantastic food, saw lots of cool things, and listened to every Eagles album twice. It was the best vacation of my life—besides maybe going to Disney World when I was thirteen.
Summer flew by, and so has the beginning of the school year.
Trevor and I moving in together has been seamless, mostly because he spent so much time here last year and we spent most of our summer together, so it’s not really new. We celebrated our one-year anniversary by recreating our first date, and our anniversary gift to each other was to go through and pick photos for each other to hang on the wall between the living room and the bedroom.
We’ve spent the last few weeks going through them all, framing them, and hanging them up.
I walk back toward the front of the apartment, aiming for the kitchen because I’m starving.
“All finished. It looks good.”
To my surprise, Trevor doesn’t look up from his phone.
He’s fixated on it, typing away.
“Did you want anything to eat?” I ask, but still nothing.
I turn and head back toward the couch, talking the whole way. “I hear the Boston Revs are going to kick the Metros asses this weekend.”
He still doesn’t look up. Time to break out the big guns.
“I’m thinking about cutting my hair. Maybe a cute little bob or something.”
His head shoots up, his eyes dancing over me, then he swallows hard. “If that’s what you want.”
I slide onto his lap. “Ah, you’re so cute when you’re trying to be respectful of my decisions, even if it’s one you hate.” I lift his phone out of his hand. “Like I want to cut my hair. Please. I love my wild woman hair.”
He gives me a charming smirk. “So do I. Especially when it’s wrapped around my hand while I fuck you into the mattress.”
Yeah, that’s something else we did over the summer—had a whole damn lot of sex. I’ve never felt as uninhibited and comfortable in my body as I do now. There’s no power dynamic. It’s all about what we’re in the mood for. Which is usually having fun and getting as much pleasure out of it as possible.
“So, glad to know where my hair ranks in my importance since that’s what it took to get you to look up from your phone.”
He hangs his head. “Sorry. Got a text I wasn’t expecting.”
“Everything okay?”
He nods. “It’s a good thing, actually, but…”
“You’re being cryptic.” I hand him back his phone.
“It’s from my old teammate, BK. He’s one of the good ones, and he and his girlfriend—they met during freshmen orientation—just got engaged. They’re having a get together at a brewpub we used to go to a lot to celebrate. It’s on Tuesday. In Syracuse.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
“Yeah. I—I’d like to go, and if you want to come with me, I’d love to introduce you to one of the few good friends I actually made there.”
I bite my lip. “Will a lot of the team be there?”
He nods. “Anyone still on the team, which wouldn’t be that many from when we were in school, since he’s a senior now. And probably other friends from campus, plus friends of Sasha—his fiancée.”
I suck in a big breath, then let it out. It’s been a long time since I’ve been there. But maybe it’s time. It’s one of the larger cities in the state. I can’t avoid it forever.
“I’ll go.”
“Are you sure?”
I give a firm nod, even though I don’t feel firm. It’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just a place I have to push myself out of my comfort zone. The longer I build it up in my head, the worse it’ll be.
“I’m sure. I’d love to meet your friends.”
“Thank you.” He brushes a kiss to my neck. “I love having you by my side, no matter what I’m doing.” His phone goes off again, and he looks at it. This time, he smiles. “Good news. You won’t just have me with you. Hyla will be there too.”
“Really?” I say excitedly.
“Yep. She’s got a couple of days free this coming week. I think she’ll be here for your girls’ night on Monday too, but don’t mention it. I’m sure she wants to surprise people.”
“More than likely.”
Hyla’s glow up since kicking her parents out of her life has only gotten better. She went to school to become a flight attendant, and with a connection from Rae and Sarah’s cousin who plays professional football, she got a job working as a private flight attendant. Right now, she’s working with a minor league baseball team. In even better news, she officially cut all ties to her former parents by having Liz adopt her. I had no idea adult adoption was a thing, but it’s made them both—and Trevor—so much happier. We had a whole celebration over the summer when it was official.
I let out a little sigh. “It’ll be good if she’s there for girls’ night.”
Unfortunately, while summer was kind to us and Hyla, it wasn’t kind to everyone. Amanda and Jamie hit a rough patch right as we got back to school. They’re doing better now, but it was tough for a bit. But the worst of things happened to Sarah. Her biological parents returned, fucked up her life even more, then left in an explosive and dramatic exit. Sarah has been struggling since, and it’s only getting worse. I’m hoping a visit with Hyla, who has always connected with her about the hard stuff, will help.
“Yeah,” Trevor says solemnly.
“It sucks not being able to help your friends when they’re hurting.”
He blinks at me. “Sorry. Did we just switch places? That’s usually my line.”
I shove his shoulder. “Yes, I know, my wonderful protector.” I sigh and lean against him. “It’s strange to feel this happy when I know they’re hurting.”
He runs his fingers down my back. “I know, but we have to hold on to our happiness when we have it. We all go through dark times, and it’s the joy and love from the people around us that help us heal and move forward.”
I smile against his neck. “Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy, growly boyfriend?”
“Therapy, babe.”
We both laugh at that.
“I like being happy.”
He kisses my forehead. “Yeah, me too.”
I’m not going to throw up.
Just because we’re almost to Syracuse does not mean that my life is about to implode.
Good thoughts, Chelsea. Good thoughts.
Or any thoughts.
I flick my eyes up to the rearview mirror, catching Hyla’s gaze. She must sense my panic because she jumps in with a question for Trevor, who is driving.
“How was guys’ night last night? How’s Joel doing?”
Trev sighs. “Not great. This stuff with Sarah is hard on him. I get it. I told him I’m here if he needs me. I wish I could help more, but I know what it’s like when she gets to this place. Usually, she needs someone to call her on her bullshit. In high school, that was her grandparents—especially her grandfather—but she’s shut down with everyone… I’m assuming. How was she last night?”
“Quiet.”
“Yeah,” Hyla agrees. “I tried to remind her of our mantra to spiral up and keep fighting, but she was really withdrawn. Maybe I should try to talk to her more.”
“I think Rae is going to reach out to their parents… or already has? I’m not sure. She needs help. Hopefully, she’ll get it. And Joel too.”
“How’s Amanda?” Trev asks.
“A lot better. Thankfully. It’s mostly Sarah that’s in a rough spot right now.”
“Oh! Rae said she and Aaron are talking about trying for a baby. Probably not until next year, but that’s exciting,” Hyla says. “Speaking of which, when are you two going to give me cute babies to play with?”
I stifle a laugh as Trevor mutters under his breath.
“You know, if you want kids to play with, maybe you should have one,” Trevor tells her, glaring at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’d much rather everyone else have cute babies that I can steal for a little while and then give back,” she says.
“Has anyone told you that you’re extremely selfless?” Trev deadpans.
Hyla sticks out her tongue at him, even though he can’t see it. “Excuse me? I think babysitting people’s kids so they can go out and have fun is selfless. Or at least not selfish. Either way, you’re avoiding my question.”
“Hyla,” Trevor grumbles, but I just smile.
Talking about this stuff in front of Hyla doesn’t bother me.
“I don’t know. Trevor once said he didn’t want to wait a long time to have kids.”
“Really? We’re going to do this now? With Hyla in the car?”
I shrug. “It’s not like she won’t know as soon as we start trying anyway.”
He glances at me in surprise, then shakes his head. “Okay, love of my life, when would you like to start having children?”
“I’ve been thinking lately that I’d like to start having kids younger. I mean, I always wanted that to some degree, but with graduation in less than a year? I don’t know. I’m open to discussion.”
Trevor grumbles again. “Now I really wish Hyla wasn’t in the car.”
“Okay, if you’re going to start dirty talking or reveal you have a pregnancy kink, I’m putting my noise canceling headphones on.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You’re good.” Then I rest my hand on Trevor’s thigh. “We’ll put a pin in that for later.”
Even though I’m not putting a pin in anything. I’m thinking about what I want and when I want it. In fact, I’m channeling all my energy into it, hoping it’ll distract me as Trevor pulls off the exit that leads us into Syracuse.
Okay, I’ve been in Syracuse for more than ten minutes, and I haven’t spontaneously combusted, so that’s good. I’m not triggered the way I thought I’d be, either. Maybe it’s because we’re not near campus, or maybe it’s because I built it all up in my head, but either way, I’m fairly relaxed.
With Trevor on one side of me holding my hand, and Hyla on my other with her usual Hyla vibrancy, I feel safe.
Hopefully that means it’ll be a good night.
As we round the corner from the street the parking garage is on to where the brewpub is, I immediately notice the group outside the building, and more of that fear creeps in, but Trevor holds my hand tighter.
“If you get overwhelmed, say the word and we’ll go.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“We’ve got this,” Hyla says, then she lowers her voice and leans in closer. “Remember, not fragile like a flower, fragile like a bomb. Hold your power and strength tight.”
“Thanks,” I breathe.
It’s going to be okay.
When we get to the group, two people step away. The guy, who I assume is Trevor’s friend, steps over and gives Trevor one of those bro-hugs.
“It’s good to see you, man.”
“You too,” Trevor says. Then he looks at the woman. “Congratulations. Though are you sure this is the guy you want to marry?”
She throws an arm around his shoulders. “I like him sometimes.”
“This is my girlfriend, Chelsea. Chels, this is BK and his fiancée, Sasha.”
“Blake Klein,” he says with an eye roll. “The BK thing will never die. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“If you didn’t want it to stick, you shouldn’t have gotten everyone to call you that freshman year,” Sasha says, stepping forward to hug me. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
“You too. Thanks for inviting us.”
“Absolutely,” Blake says.
“Oh, and I don’t know if you ever met my sister, Hyla…” Trevor says, nodding to her.
“I think once,” Sasha says. “It’s great to see you again.”
To my surprise, they don’t make a move to go back to the group.
“Do we need to go join everyone?” I ask.
“Nah,” Blake says. “My idiot brother is in charge of all this crap. I’ll let him handle the line holding duties. Half of those guys are his friends who kind of know me. A handful of the team will probably be here, and a bunch of our non-baseball friends, which are the people I prefer most of the time.” He leans in. “I don’t know if you know this, but baseball players are insufferable.”
“So are baseball commentators.” I give Trevor a cheeky grin, and he pulls me closer, pinching my butt as he does.
I jump a little, and he leans in. “You’re not the only one who can pinch.”
He always knows just how to flirt with me.
There’s some yelling from the group behind Blake, then one voice rings out.
“Blakey! Come on!” the guy I’m assuming is his brother yells.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes. Keep your pants on!” Blake calls back. Then he sighs. “I mean that very literally. Once he starts drinking… Sorry, I’m not exactly selling this, am I?”
“It’s fine.” I laugh, but Trevor groans.
When I look at him, his gaze is on a different guy approaching.
“You invited DJ?” he asks Blake.
“He invited himself,” Sasha says, annoyed. “You know how he is.”
“Your old roommate?” I whisper to Trevor.
“And the guy who ghosted me after my injury. I’ll bet anything he pretends we’re besties now. Not that we ever really were, but…”
He shuts up as the guy gets to us, and once Klein’s not blocking his view, awareness shoots through me. There’s something… familiar about him.
My chest tightens.
Blond hair. Hazel eyes.
Fuck, am I imagining it because I don’t like his energy or…
Hazy flashes rip through me. Him tossing a baseball cap on the floor and his eyes becoming clearer like they just did.
And then he opens his mouth.
“Well, well, Trevor Matteny. Long time no see. How the hell have you been?”
Dread slices through me, icy and cold.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Stop fighting this…”
That voice. His voice.
My stomach drops, and I really think I might throw up.
“Who’s this? You finally bag yourself a hottie?”
“I bet a hottie like you could keep me up all night.”
I’m backing away before I realize my feet are moving.
“Yeah, this is my girlfriend, Chelsea.” Trevor turns toward me, concern etching his features when he sees me.
“Hey, I’m Dane.”
The name clangs through me as another flash from that night claws at me. Standing by a pool table. And then that voice. Him. Shaggy blond hair hidden by a baseball cap.
“I’m Dane. Baseball legend.”
My head’s spinning. It’s too much. A sob rolls through my whole body and I wrap my arms around myself.
“It was you.”
Trevor
Several things click together at once.
Chelsea standing there, face white, looking like she’s going to scream.
She said he had shaggy blond hair and hazel eyes. Most of the time, DJ kept his hair short. Until sophomore year. And his eye color? Fuck, I never noticed it until right now.
She said he told her he was a baseball player.
“Hey man, can I borrow one of your hats tonight? You know how the girls feel about a baseball player.”
Then she utters the most horrifying three words I could ever hear.
“It was you.”
“Trevor.” Hyla’s voice is sharp, cautionary, but I barely hear it. There’s only the sound of blood roaring in my ears as I lunge forward and punch him as hard as I can in the jaw.
He staggers backward, then dives forward and pushes me. “What the fuck, man? You that pissed I didn’t call?”
I grab him and spin him around, shoving him against the brick wall and getting right in his face. “You raped her.”
That smirky look finally slips off his face, and his gaze darts over my shoulder.
Then he puts up a cold exterior. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I punch him again. As hard as I can.
He punches me back.
“Trev! I know you’re pissed, but you need to stop!” BK yells, but I ignore him.
Finally, I have this fucker in my grasp. He will pay. I will make him pay for what he did to her.
DJ shoves me again. “Fucker! This really how you want to play it? You’re going to pretend you didn’t help me?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’d never help you.”
“When I asked you to cover for me if someone came looking for me? What did you think I meant? You’re not naive enough to believe I was worried about a party breaking up, are you?”
I growl and shove him against the wall again, landing a punch to his ribs this time, even as his words eat away at me.
It never crossed my mind he’d mean something like that. Parties get broken up all the time. People fight. But I remember the few times girls came around the next day asking for him. I don’t remember them looking upset, but could he have…? Once a guy came looking about damages for something at a party. I didn’t lie and say he hadn’t been there, just that I didn’t know where DJ was. Why did I do that? Why did I ever fucking lie for him? Why? Horror coils in my stomach when I remember the time campus police knocked on the door looking for him. He wasn’t there. Then they asked if he’d been at a party the night before. Campus police. Chelsea?
All those thoughts swirl inside me, deepening my rage.
He pushes me back, then gets in a punch to my face, sending me tumbling backward, but I grab his shirt and drag him onto the ground with me until we’re in a full-fledged brawl. And though I hear BK trying to get me to stop, Hyla yelling at me, and maybe even Chelsea’s soft voice too, I can’t stop myself.
I’m lost in my hatred and rage. I was afraid someone I knew did this? But someone I lived with? Someone who might’ve used me to help him get away with it?
Fuck him.
But then hands are on me, and I’m being pulled upright and thrown against the wall.
“Hands behind your back. You’re under arrest for disorderly conduct.”
Fuck.
My chest rises and falls against the brick of the building as the officer reads me my rights. When he pulls me off the wall, my head is spinning, and reality is slowly settling in.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see DJ, and it takes everything in me not to growl. Not to lunge and make this all worse. I might’ve just fucked up a lot of things, but only one matters to me.
My eyes go to Chelsea, who is standing with Hyla.
A third officer stands in front of everyone—thankfully, the only other witnesses to this were BK and Sasha. Not that it matters.
“Who started it?” the third officer asks.
“He did,” DJ spits in my direction.
“He was provoked,” Hyla throws back, a murderous glare aimed at DJ. She has one arm wrapped protectively around Chelsea.
“How so?” the officer asks.
That’s when Chelsea steps forward, a shaking finger pointed at DJ. “He raped me.”
The officer blinks, then looks at the other two officers holding DJ and me.
“That’s a heavy accusation,” he says.
Chelsea stands tall. “It’s complicated. More complicated than even I knew until tonight, but I had an exam performed after and DNA was found. I’m confident it will match his.”
The officer drums his pen on his notepad, then throws his thumb out to the cars behind him.
“All right, take them both in.” He turns to Chelsea. “If what you’re saying is true, you’ll need to come down and give a statement, talk to a detective. Possibly more.”
Chelsea nods. “Okay.”
“Do you have a way to get there?” he asks.
“I can drive her. If I can get the keys from my brother,” Hyla says.
The officer holding me takes half a step back. “Where are your keys?”
“Left front pocket.”
He reaches right in and grabs them, then hands them to Hyla.
“I’ll call Mom,” she says, meeting my eyes and conveying a hell of a lot more than words ever could.
She knows why I did it. She’s got my back. She’s got Chelsea.
Which is clear when she walks over to Chelsea, wraps an arm around her, and guides her back down the block, leaving me to contemplate how much I’ve fucked up my life.
It’s the middle of the night when I walk out of the police station, battered and bruised, surrounded by Hyla, my mom, and Randall, the lawyer who appeared ten minutes after I got to the police station and told me he was there to help. Apparently, he’s one of my mom’s graphic design clients and had offered her twenty-four-seven legal help if she needed it. If I had more than half a brain cell left that wasn’t thinking about how colossally fucked today—or tonight or yesterday, whatever—has been, I might wonder if he’s got some kind of crush on her, but I’ve got fuck all nothing left to consider that .
“The good news is, the DA isn’t interested in pressing charges,” Randall says. “The other guy could potentially try, but with the information you’ve given me, he’d be stupid to do so, and I’m guessing he knows that.”
I look back at the building, thankful they aren’t pressing charges, but more worried about the greatest thing I have to lose. The girl inside, who has somehow been there even longer than me. From what Hyla told me, her dad and Robbie are both here, along with a lawyer.
“Thanks for your help,” I say to Randall, then look at my mom. “Can we wait?”
“Of course.”
“Do you need any help finding a place to stay tonight?” Randall asks.
“I booked a hotel,” Hyla says. “But thank you.”
The doors to the police station open, and my gaze snaps to them.
Chelsea walks out with Robbie, her dad, and a female lawyer, who is talking with her dad.
My stomach is in knots as they walk down the few stairs toward us, Robbie with his arm around Chelsea’s back.
“I’ll be in touch when I hear something,” the female lawyer says. She gives Randall a warm smile. “Randall. If you need anything, give me a call.”
“Thanks, Jacinta.”
Jacinta walks away, and my gaze goes to Chelsea.
Did I completely fuck this up?
“Are you okay?” I ask. I mean physically, because who the fuck would be okay emotionally after all this?
“I… will be.” She sniffs and grabs my hands. “I’m going to go home with my dad. I need a few days to process all this. And then we can talk.”
“Of course. Whatever you need,” I croak. Because what the fuck else do I say?
“Come on, I’ll walk you to the car,” Robbie says.
With a lingering look, she lets go of my hands and walks away with him.
Her dad steps in front of me, a serious expression on his face. Then Gene throws his arms around me, surprising the hell out of me.
“What’s this for?”
“You look like you need it. And I told you I’d be here when you need some dad energy. Definitely needed tonight.”
I force back the tears trying to burst out of me and hug him back. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for standing up for her.”
Even if I lost her in the process? Even if I enabled the guy who assaulted her?
He steps back and rests a hand on my shoulder, then he turns to look at my mom. “Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Gene.”
Gene walks away, leaving me with my mom and Hyla. Randall must’ve left. Not that I care. The person I care about is leaving, and there’s nothing I can do to stop her.
“Let’s get some shitty drive through food, go to the hotel, and get cleaned up,” Mom says.
She wraps an arm around my back, then Hyla does the same, and together we walk back to the car.
I think we ordered one of everything on the menu at McDonalds, but I’ve barely eaten. Hyla practically force fed me fries before I took a shower. Now I’m sitting here, staring at the cold food on the bed in front of me. There’s a frigid numbness deep inside me, shrouded in white hot flames.
I’m not sure I can say I regret punching DJ, but escalating it to the point I did? When Chelsea realized, we should’ve gone straight to the police station. That would’ve helped her more. Then maybe she wouldn’t have had to listen to him talk.
Does she think I had any role in what happened to her?
Do I think that?
I try to remember that morning campus police came, but it’s a blip among so many others from Syracuse that I didn’t want to hold on to.
Reaching out with my foot, I drag the trash can over, then sweep all the shitty cold food into it with a growl.
“I would’ve eaten that,” Hyla says playfully, trying to lighten the mood as always.
But I can’t so much as muster a smile.
“Honey,” Mom says, sitting down next to me.
Hyla sits down on my other side as Mom runs her fingers through my hair.
“Talk to us,” Mom whispers.
The coldness inside me grows as I say the only thing I’m thinking right now. “I wish Dad was here.” I choke back a sob, and Mom wraps her arm around me. “Or maybe I don’t. I doubt he’d be proud of me.”
“Yes, he would be,” Hyla says.
“She’s right. You stood up for someone you love. Nothing would make him prouder than that.”
My jaw trembles as I try to hold back the emotion, but I can’t. The dam cracks, and I break.
Hyla and Mom wrap me in a double hug.
“What if I destroyed things with Chelsea? What if she blames me or can’t forgive me? What if I lose her?” I choke on the words between my sobs, but Hyla and Mom only hold me tighter.
“She loves you,” Hyla whispers.
But what the fuck does that even mean? How much can love survive?
What if I put it through too much?
If I played any role in what happened to her—preventing him from being caught—why would she forgive me?
I’d never forgive myself.
I pull my knees up to my chest. Everything hurts and crying only makes it worse, but I can’t stop myself. So, I let go, let Mom and Hyla hold me, even though they aren’t who I need.
But I don’t get to have that. Not when the person I need is the woman I might’ve unknowingly helped to break.
Chelsea
Trevor looked so utterly broken when I left him tonight, but I didn’t know what to do. What to say.
He was arrested for fighting for me.
Because his former roommate raped me.
And I have no idea how to process any of that.
I usually love the little ways we’re tethered together, but I’d break and burn this particular bridge if I could.
I flick on the light in my room, shaking and numb, and walk over to the bed. Then I drop down onto the mattress. The mattress with the thick gel cover on top. The gel cover Trevor bought. For me.
Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me.
Including destroy himself in the process.
I lie down in the fetal position, tears in my eyes as a heavy, dark numbness washes over me.
I spent hours at the police station, recounting my story, having men gaslight me. Thankfully, Jacinta—a friend of Gran’s who she immediately called for help—was there for the majority of it to help me through. By the end of it all, which included me doing a voice line-up, where I couldn’t see the person, but could hear them. I had to select a sentence I remember him saying—only a handful, though seeing him made some things I wish could’ve stayed locked away come back—and listen to it repeated several times. I picked him without a second thought. All of it ended with the DA wanting to pursue a DNA warrant for DJ—Dane. Fuckhead. I wish I’d never have to hear his name again. Not a likelihood, though. As much as I want him to be held accountable, the thought that I’ll have to endure a trial if his DNA matches—which I know it will—is gut churning.
And how does Trevor fit into all of it? Jacinta says they’re not pressing charges against him, thank goodness, but since he knew this asshole and then punched him? How does that factor in?
It’s too much.
It’s all too much.
Tears stream down my cheeks, and I wish I could turn off my brain. Force myself to go to sleep. I’m exhausted, but there’s too much rattling around inside me.
The bed shifts next to me, and I look up at Gran.
“I brought some tea.”
A sob bubbles up, and she slides down on the bed and wraps an arm around me.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“I think I failed,” I choke out.
“Failed at what?”
“You told me not to let anyone take my power, but I’ve never felt so weak.”
“I don’t accept that. I heard how you handled yourself tonight. With integrity and your head held high. That’s not weakness. That’s strength.” She sweeps some hair out of my face. “Strength doesn’t stop you from hurting or letting yourself break. It just helps you know you can rise again and be okay on the other side.”
I glance at the phoenix on my bracelet.
Resilient. Invincible.
I don’t feel either of those things right now.
In fact, I feel more like I’m burning up in all the flames as the fire suffocates me.