Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
Josie
I pace from couch to the front door and back again.
I’m so relieved to be back here in this regular house with normal gray furniture and family photos on the walls and a slightly worn rug with a stain where Madeline spilled grape juice last Christmas.
I can’t believe I let myself get caught up in the opulence and glamour of the Langleys’ house.
I can’t believe I didn’t see what was happening until it was too late.
Thank God Madeline is at a sleepover at a friend’s house tonight.
I don’t want to have to explain the marks on my neck where the collar of my dress was violently yanked against my skin or the salty lines the dried tears tracked down my face.
She’d completely freak out and I don’t think I could handle that right now.
Mom should be home any second from her job at the hospital, I’ll tell her the awful thing that happened to me. Mom will know what to do.
I desperately want to go upstairs and shower, to wash the feel of that man’s hands off my body, the smell of his cologne from my skin.
But I remember learning in health class that if something like this happens to you, something like…
My stomach churns… Something like a sexual assault, you’re not supposed to shower until the police can collect evidence.
I don’t even know if there is any evidence. It’s not like he…
I close my eyes. He didn’t, but only because I managed to fight him off before he got the chance. But he would have. I’m sure of it. He was reaching for the button of his pants. He was holding me down while I screamed for him to stop.
Thank God I landed that knee near his crotch.
But I don’t know what happens now. Do we tell the police? Will they investigate? Someone needs to stop him. It was pure luck and adrenaline that I managed to push him in the water. But the next girl he assaults might end up with a different fate.
When Mom’s car pulls in the driveway, I rush to open the front door. The minute she steps onto the porch, her muscles tense, and I know she can tell something is wrong.
“Josie?” She rushes toward me, scanning my face. “What happened?” Mom pushes her way into the house and grabs my shoulders, looking me over. “What did Ian do?”
I can’t hold the tears back anymore, and I fall into her arms.
“Did he hurt you?” She guides me over to the couch, and we sink onto the cushions. “I’ll kill him if he hurt you.”
I press my face to the side of her neck, my tears seeping into her collarbone. “Ian didn’t hurt me.”
“Did you have a fight?”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t Ian.” I sit up so I can face her. “Ian wasn’t there. He was at his sailing competition. He didn’t even know I was coming.”
Mom’s brow furrows in confusion. “Well then what…”
“His dad invited me and told me Ian would be there.”
“Christopher Langley?” Mom asks, her brows knitting together. “Christopher invited you?”
I flinch at the name. “Yes,” I whisper. “At the club earlier this week, he told me Ian wanted me to come to the pool today. And then when I got there, Christopher answered the door and invited me in… He said Ian was on his way and would be there any minute.” I sit up so I can look in her face.
“Even though he wasn’t… It was just me and Christopher. He planned it that way.”
Mom’s face turns ashen, and her head begins to wag back and forth as if she knows where this is going but wants to deny it as long as possible.
“He attacked me. He tried to rape me.”
My mom takes a gasping breath and her hand flies over her mouth. “He—” She grabs me and pulls me against her chest. “Josie.” I can feel her hands shaking as they roam over my back, her breath ragged with sobs. “My baby. Oh my God.”
“He had me pinned down on the couch. It was—” I’ll never forget the weight of him crushing my lungs, stealing my breath.
His hand reaching between my legs. Never.
“It was awful. I managed to fight back and roll onto the floor.” My kneecaps throb with the reminder of crashing onto hard wood.
I close my eyes. “And then I ran. If I hadn’t, he would have raped me.
” My whole body is shaking, shivering. “Mom, what do we do?”
I brace myself because I know she’s going to say we have to call the police.
We can’t let him get away with this. But even though I know it’s true, the thought of having officers show up here asking questions, the reality of telling this horrifying story over and over triggers a fresh wave of nausea.
And will I have to go to the hospital? Will they want to examine me? It’s too awful to contemplate.
At that moment, my phone buzzes, and I reach for it on the side table to turn it off. But as I do, I see a text from Alice.
I have crazy info. It’s about your boyfriend’s dad.
My heart lurches. My boyfriend’s dad?
She must be talking about Christopher. Did Alice somehow hear about what happened? But how could she? It was just a few hours ago, and it’s not like Christopher would be talking about it at the club. But maybe there was a witness. A housekeeper or the guard at the driveway.
I freeze. What if Ian was there? What if he got home and saw me and Christopher out on the dock? But then, wouldn’t he be the one calling me? Unless he got the wrong idea about what we were doing…
With shaking hands, I send a text in return.
What info? What happened?
My phone rings immediately.
“Josie.” Alice’s voice carries through the phone, high-pitched and slightly hysterical. “You won’t believe it. Christopher Langley is dead.”