CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
TRINA
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Briar opened the car door for me, and I force myself from saying I’m not crippled. Although it feels like my soul is broken and torn apart.
I know I got lucky, but I just feel numb.
Then angry.
Then my heart feels like it’s going to die from sadness at what that asshole Roger took from me.
Floating among all my thoughts are visions of Marshall. I want him here with me, but I also hate him. I needed him and he wasn’t there.
He still hasn’t replied to my messages.
How much can he care if he hasn’t bothered to ask why I was calling multiple times in the middle of the night?
I know I’m being a little irrational given how we parted ways, but right now I think I’m allowed to be.
Fuck him.
Fuck Roger.
Fuck the world.
I hate that I’ve been made to feel so powerless because of one stupid decision. I should have stayed in the Uber and pissed my goddamn panties. Oh that’s right, Marshall TOOK THEM.
Ugh.
Am I just some walking vagina to these men?
Well, they can all go fuck themselves now. I’m done. When I am out of here I’m googling nunneries.
Are they called nunneries?
Well, Google will tell me.
Briar and Aidan turned up after I called, and I almost screamed at her. The last thing I wanted was a man near me, but I kept my mouth closed. Instead, I sat in the backseat, wrapping my thick navy cardigan around myself. It was way too hot for the day, but it made me feel safe.
Safer.
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again.
After a lot of are you okay and we’re almost there comments, Aidan parked and Briar opened the door. I climbed out and glanced at Aidan.
I had to say something. There was no way I wanted him in the hospital with me and being privy to any of the conversations. Then repeating it all back to Marshall.
Fuck him.
“Hey.” I bit my fingernail and glanced at Briar. “Can it be just you.”
“I’ll wait here,” Aidan replied, immediately understanding. I was so fucking grateful.
“We could be hours, babe. Go home. I’ll call you.” Briar told him, and the Marine nodded, hopping back inside the vehicle.
Briar guided me inside the hospital, her arm around my lower back. “I’m here okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
Like a zombie I walked up to the reception desk and coldly spoke three words I never thought I’d say.
“I’ve been raped.”
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HOURS LATER, I’M home. I toss my bag on the kitchen counter and let out a sigh. The medical teams were amazing but there was nothing nice about it. Having to tell them I had intercourse with another man earlier in the night, then went to a second man’s hotel room after, made me feel and sound like a slut.
I’m not, but I can see how it looked.
I needed to use his bathroom I said way too many times, just digging a deeper hole.
“You don’t have to explain,” Briar said, rubbing my shoulder as the nurse glanced between us.
“She’s right. Nobody can take away your consent regardless of the situation.”
I gave her a smile and nodded.
Didn’t really make me feel any better.
I also realized part way through that having Marshall there with me would have been a nightmare. I’m almost certain he would’ve needed looking after more than I did.
But he wasn’t there.
He hasn’t called.
And clearly I’m someone he’s moved on from.
Thanks for the orgasms, asshole.
Tears fill my eyes once more and I push them away angrily. My skin is red and raw on the corner of one eye from wiping with it the back of my hand. My nose is red. I look...well I look exactly like what I am. Hungover, a sexual abuse victim, sleep deprived, and heart broken. Worse, I feel lost and like someone stole my fucking confidence.
Not once did I make a vagina joke and that’s a goddamn tragedy.
“Did you message your mom?” Briar asks, sliding onto one of my bar stools in my kitchen.
“Yeah.” I sigh and grab my phone out of my bag to see if she’s replied. It’s a toss whether she is hungover or going to some church thing with her fellow grieving widows.
Yes, still. It’s been like twelve years. She’s so stuck in the past. Look, I lost my dad that day too, but you can’t spend the rest of your life grieving, or you miss out on what else it has to offer.
Maybe I just haven’t fallen in love with the right person. There are eight billion people on this planet. We don’t love one pet and never love another. I see that as selfish.
The universe tests me when I see Marshall’s message and my tummy does this weird little flip. Who knew it was possible to hate someone and want them so much at the same time.
I swipe and read it over and over and over.
Baby. I need to see you. To hold you. Message me when you’re ready. M x
A cry escapes my throat without warning.
“What? Is it him?” Briar demands, half climbing off her stool.
“No. Yes. It’s Marshall. Mom hasn’t replied.” I sniff.
Briar was with me all day so she heard me confess I’d had sex with Marshall at the party. She didn’t respond but I know she’ll have an opinion. Everyone does. It’s human nature.
“Is that man your boyfriend. Husband?” the nurse had asked.
“No.” I had quickly replied. “We are...”
“Pretending not to like one another.” Briar intervened and the two of them shared a knowing smile.
They know nothing.
I’m trying to decipher from his message if he knows what happened last night. It almost sounds like he does. He never calls me baby. It’s always little wolf . The Marshall I know would’ve burned the hospital to the ground to get to me.
I’m so messed up. I want him to know. I want him to come to me, but I also don’t ever want to see him again.
Liar.
There’s a strong possibility that Aidan rang him, which makes sense. I would do the same in his shoes. So, if that’s the case and he decided to respond by sending me a text message, then all his talk has just been that.
I start typing Just send flowers... then delete it.
If all I’m worth is a fucking text, then he can go to hell.
“What did he say?” Briar asks.
I place the phone on the counter upside down. “Just hopes I’m okay.”
No one knows that Marshall is the person I rang and rang (and rang!) when I was collapsed outside the hotel covered in vomit. When I was scared, drunk, and trying to get the restraints from my abuser off my wrists.
Marshall.
He was the one I wanted. Needed.
He was the one who ignored me as I sat there trembling.
He is the one who didn’t call when he woke and saw all those missed calls from a girl he fucked the night before. It was hardly a booty call.
It doesn’t matter what he assumed, if Marshall genuinely cared about me, he would’ve answered his fucking phone. Or called first thing in the morning.
Actions speak louder than words.
I take some responsibility. I went into that bathroom and had sex with him. I refused to admit my feelings and let him walk away upset.
I climbed into the Uber and used Roger’s bathroom.
But I never asked for what happened next.
Roger should have stopped.
What he did to me was to hurt Marshall and get revenge. The two of them have some history. Neither of them chose to tell me. Pretending all night not to know one another.
Then, after fucking me, Marshall left me behind with that asshole.
How dare he?
I let out another loud sigh, grab two sodas out of the fridge, and hand one to Briar. Then sit down beside her on the other stool.
We sip our drinks in silence.
I need to tell Alice but I don’t have the energy. Even if Mom replied, I probably wouldn’t answer at the moment.
Suddenly Briar starts crying—like really crying—and I wrap my arms around her. “Babe. It’s okay.”
It’s not okay.
“Oh god, I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be looking after you.”
I smile into her hair.
“You are.”
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SOMETIME LATER, AIDAN knocks on my door to collect Briar. The large Marine walks in and surveys the new surroundings.
A pang hits my chest wishing he was Marshall.
But also not...
“Do you need anything?” Aidan asks, towering over me as Briar tucks herself under his arm.
Envy almost bowls me over.
I almost let out a choked cry as I shake my head and ignore the desire for Marshall’s big strong arms to be wrapped around me. To feel protected, loved, and cared for.
I know he doesn’t. I know it was lust and nothing more, but for a moment I truly thought it was something worth pursuing.
“No. Thanks.” I tug my cardigan around me again and wish they would just go.
Watching their beautiful love is too hard right now. I’m happy for them, but I am exhausted and need to just curl up in a ball in my bed.
Aidan kisses the top of Briar’s head then slides his free hand into his jeans pocket. “We have a team out looking for Miller. The police and members of the military are also searching. We will catch him, Trina.”
I nod, glancing out the window and knowing I should express my gratitude right now, but I just feel dead inside. Aside from a small amount of fear that he might know where I live.
I glance back and look Aidan in right in the eye.
“I need to ask you something,” I say quietly but Aidan shakes his head.
“Marshall wants to see you. I’ve told him to stay away.”
My mouth parts.
Oh.
“Just focus on getting well. He will be there when you are ready. Right now, he’s busy blaming himself.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
He is?
All my thoughts scatter like jigsaw puzzle pieces and seem to right themselves all of a sudden. I get to blame Marshall, but I don’t want him doing that.
He wants to see me?
“Marshall thinks it’s his fault?”
“It’s our job to protect those we care about.” Aidan doesn’t look away.
Oh. I get it. Because I’m one of the crew. Briar’s friend. Savannah’s friend. It’s the same for Alice, Scarlett, and Trixie. I’ve heard them all say things like this over the past few months.
“Right. Sure. As one of your friends. Marshall doesn’t—”
“He does,” Aidan and Briar say together.
I bite my bottom lip.
Maybe. But the alpha man I know would have crashed down my door to see me if I was a woman he cared for, not just a friend.
“I need a nap. I’m exhausted.”
Aidan nods, holding my gaze, but I’m not going to say anything to make anyone feel better. I’m the victim here. Marshall did ignore my calls.
It wouldn’t have stopped what had already happened. But maybe, just maybe, if he’d told me who Roger was before leaving, I might not have got in the Uber with him.
You ignored the red flags.
“Call me if you need anything.” Briar hugs me and I place my hand on the wooden door, then follow with my forehead as I close it after them.
Finally, I’m alone.
In my bedroom, I collapse on the bed and expect tears to fall. Instead, I feel numb and just stare at the ceiling.
Then I can’t help myself. I open my phone and look at Marshall’s message again.
Baby. I need to see you. To hold you. Message me when you’re ready. M x
After reading it ten more times, I delete it.
It’s better this way.