Chapter 22
CHAPTER 22
S avannah
“Savi, that guy’s a piece of shit.” I look over at her. “It takes one to know one.”
My gaze snaps to him. At first, I want to rebut his comment and then I remember the Ian he used to be, and a mix of doubt and curiosity beg a question. “Are you saying you’ve raped someone?”
“No!” Ian’s head spins toward me. He takes a quick look, then turns his eyes back to the road. “I’ve never raped anyone. I didn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “There are some things in my past that I’m sure aren’t a secret. Sex was something I never had to take or buy.”
His transparency, and the information he offers, confirm one more time how much he’s changed but, like most women, I want to know more and press for more.
“Weird question—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but— didn’t you worry about diseases?”
He gives a casual shrug. “You know, it’s a wonder that I didn’t wind up with something because I didn’t worry about anything back then. I was cavalier about most things, but I always used a condom when I had sex, no matter how fucked up I was. I didn’t want any ‘rug rats’ or ‘curtain climbers’, as my father would say. One Ian Stanton is already too many.” He pauses. “What about you? What happened with Drake?”
A hissing sound escapes like a pin to my secret balloon. “Too much and then, not enough. Drake was charming and I was na?ve. The longer we were together the more I saw through the act. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in his family. His dad is in politics and kids of politicians have much privilege. A little too much. Lots of things they get into trouble for are swept under the rug. Once I saw that most of his charm was an act, I broke up with him. He didn’t take it well.”
“And, from your conversation with Sam, you never told your parents?”
I give my head a shake. “No. I’m glad I didn’t.” I pause for a moment of reflection as an image fills my mind. “I can’t describe what it was like. To walk into your house and find your parents dead—not just dead. Murdered.” My voice fades like smoke drifting away on a breeze.
“Savi, you don’t have to talk about it.”
“The past couple of years have tested me in ways I never expected. Surviving rape. My parents. Being a single mom.”
“You’re a strong woman.”
“I don’t feel that way. I mean, I know those are heavy topics, but I don’t feel stronger or weaker. I just feel I’ve grown.”
“I get it, but I want you to know you can talk to me. There isn’t much that shocks me and I’ve got time to listen anytime you want to talk.” He glances at me with the sweetest sincere expression. “I’m a pretty good listener.”
As I turn and gaze out the window, it’s dark memories I see. Scenes like in a movie play through my head and there’s one whose stain I’d like to bleach from existence and, maybe, if I bring it up, the stain will clear a little bit more.
“I didn’t really know Drake until college. My father ran a large branch of a major commercial real estate business. Drake’s dad is a senator. He owns several businesses; the biggest one is a sanitation company. Drake’s an only child, isn’t bad-looking, and never skimped on dates. He did much to impress me and I fell for it. When he no longer felt he had to impress me his true colors came through. He’s spoiled and he has a temper. He’s cruel with words and deeds. I couldn’t imagine a future with someone so narcissistic.”
“A guy like me. All the perks. No personality.”
His words hit like a douse of cold water. “I don’t believe that about you. I would think some ego goes along with the territory where you’re concerned and, from what you told me, you didn’t get much good as a kid. I’m sure whatever attention you got with the band felt good. I mean, did you ever set out to purposefully hurt someone?”
I pause. A slight shake tells me I’ve made my point.
“Drake did. I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore and he insisted we talk. Foolishly, I thought that’s all it would be, but he wanted to make me pay for rejecting him. And he did.” I take a deep breath then look down. My knotted hands show white knuckles. “It was a mistake to let my guard down. Such a mistake …” My voice withers.
“I don’t need to hear more.”
His gentle tone is a hug to my wounded heart. “I want to finish. I have to stop hiding behind shame I never caused. To stop beating myself up for things I should or shouldn’t have done.”
He glances at me wearing a weak smile, then nods.
“Drake showed up at a restaurant where I was having dinner with friends. He made a scene, but I was the one embarrassed. I got him to go to the parking lot. He said he’d have a rational conversation if I got in the car. He drove and we talked. The next thing I knew we were at his condo and things got ugly. He called me a little bitch. Said I embarrassed him. Slapped me and told me we were not breaking up and he would decide if, and when, we were over. He pinned me …”
“Stop! Jesus.” A mix of anger and disgust sour his expression.
“The look you’re wearing right now is why I didn’t tell my father. He would have killed Drake.”
“And he would have deserved it.”
The adrenaline rush that hit as the words flowed, falls, and I feel like I’ve hit a wall of exhaustion. “I’m glad I didn’t tell my dad. Drake’s father knows a lot of bad people.”
“You were afraid for him?”
“I don’t know. It seems kind of pointless to speculate now,” I reason. Silence hangs in the air between us.
“How does Drake know about Gigi?”
The question strikes like a thunderbolt, splitting me with terror. “I don’t know. He called. When he mentioned her, I hung up on him.”
“He called?” Anger fills his tone as surprise jerks his gaze in my direction. “When?”
“Recently. Just like tonight, he tried to intimidate me. It isn’t working. Honestly, I’m more angry than scared. I need to talk to the police. There is a restraining order. I don’t know how that works across states.”
Ian digests the tale I’ve purged in silence, which is fine because I’m weary of this trip down memory lane.
“Savi?”
“Hmm?”
“Go out with me.”
“What?” I smile as the out-of-the-blue question completely wrecks my train of thought.
“Seriously. Go out with me. You need a break. I’ll take you to dinner. I’ll even pay for Cora’s babysitting fee.”
“Why?” Befuddled, I float the question.
“Because I want to take you out.”
“What’s in it for you?” I laugh, still shocked.
He gives me a wry smile. “I’ve never been on a date before.”
“Bullshit!”
“It’s true. I swear. Pitiful, huh?”
“Harder to believe.” The invitation has changed our moods from dark to light. Ridiculous. Downright silly even.
“Yeah, well, that was my life. Lots of sex. Nothing meaningful.”
“And this? I don’t want to …”
“It’s dinner. What’s meaningful is the company and the conversation.” He shrugs. “Come to think of it, I’ve never dressed up for anything other than funerals. I’d like to dress up for a happier occasion. Do those things guys like to do— gentlemanly things—like open your door for you and hold your chair.” His expression pinches. “Almost sounds like a pity date, doesn’t it?”
“Kind of.” I smile. “But it would be nice to go out somewhere other than Sam’s or Cora’s. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t go somewhere other than Mad Dog without Gigi.”
“Then it’s a date?”
I nod and he smiles. When he does it reaches his eyes, causing the lines and wrinkles accrued through his hard-lived life to disappear. I shake my head in disbelief.
I’m going on a date with Ian Stanton.