Page 26 of SnapShot

Kate and I ended up not even going on the trail ride. I couldn’t stand to be there anymore. We left later that night because I was too afraid that Brad would try to come after me again. The police came out to the campground and filed a lengthy report. I gave them the whole story about the fake profile and everything, including our history together.

Brad was taken into custody, though I don’t think they will hold him long. The whole ordeal was ruled as a domestic dispute. I asked for a no contact order, but the process takes forever, so I don’t know how that will pan out. They told me I might have a better chance if I mention it when our case goes to trial, but it’ll be my word against his. A rape kit was performed, but I doubt they’ll find anything since it was only his fingers. Honestly, the kit was almost worse than the experience itself. The nurse led me to an exam room and gave me a paper wrap to throw over my lap, though it seemed pointless when she just took the damn thing back off to take pictures of every square inch of my body. There was a bruise on my back from the hard bricks and a small one on my throat from his arm. She scraped under my nails to check for any trace of his blood or skin. I felt so dirty and exposed through the whole process. Kate wasn’t allowed to come with me. Something about a sterile procedure. Of course, I don’t know how my repeated vomiting kept the field clean.

The whole ordeal makes my blood curdle. I just want to curl up and hide. I’m on medication now for cyclic vomiting syndrome, also known as stress barfs. I haven’t been able to hold down food in over seventy-two hours because my nerves are shot.

Charlie has reached out multiple times, but I can’t face him. Maybe he thinks I lost my phone on the trail or something. I just know that this will change things between us. God, why did this have to happen? I feel like I cheated on him even though it wasn’t my fault, and nothing really happened. I keep telling myself that nothing happened, yet everything has changed. I have changed. I can feel it, dirtying everything beneath my skin.

Why am I punishing myself for something I didn’t even do? It’s not like I asked him to put his nasty hands all over me. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment, who knows?

I haven’t gotten out of bed other than to puke or pee in four days. I called out of work and deleted my SnapShot app. It makes me feel sick to even think about it. How could I be so stupid, thinking it was all harmless fun?

Before I can completely spiral, the bedroom door slams against the wall as Charlie bursts through it, looking a rattled mess. My eyes almost pop out of my skull at the sight of him, and my heart falls through my ass at the sudden noise. The sour taste of bile rises up my throat faster than I can reach the trash can sitting beside the bed, and my sheets take the fall for my slow reaction time.

“Oh, baby,” is all he says before he scoops me up and heads for the bathroom, placing me on the counter as he runs the water in the shower. I taste the salty wetness at the corner of my mouth before I realize that my entire face is soaked with tears.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” he coos as he cleans my face with a warm rag. “Let’s get you cleaned up, ok?”

A meager nod is all I can muster. The million nerves in my body make me shiver, though I don’t understand why. I can’t make the trembling stop. It’s as if I’m sitting in a freezer, my body taken over by the chills even though I don't physically feel cold.

He places me on my feet in the shower, slowly removing my clothes, trying not to touch my skin. Almost like he knows I couldn’t bear it. Then the realization hits me. Kate. She must have called him and filled him in on everything. A deeply painful sob escapes my throat at the thought of him knowing what happened.

And the stress barfs make an ugly reappearance. In the middle of my shower. Gross.

Charlie powers through washing me up, hair and everything, never missing a beat. Why is he so good? He proceeds to get me redressed and tucked back into a clean bed before he turns back to the bathroom, cleaning out the shower. Kate must have changed the sheets when she heard me heaving. She hasn’t left my side for more than a few hours since we got home.

When he returns from the bathroom, he kicks his shoes off, climbs into bed, softly asking, “is it okay if I hold you? We don’t have to talk. I just want to be here with you and for you.”

The fact that he asked is everything I needed. For the first time since I got home from that godforsaken trip, I take an easy breath and reach for him, tears falling yet again. I don’t know when I became such a cry baby, but I can deal with that later. Right now, I just want him to take it all away.

Laying in his arms, I get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. It’s the first time the nightmares haven’t snuck in and kidnapped me. Usually it’s about what could have happened if I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to get away. How many other girls he’s done that to. How I willingly let him touch me before, and enjoyed it.

Waking up to fingers softly running up and down my arm startles me at first, before I realize who they belong to.

“It’s just me. Do you want me to move? Need some space?”

“I’m okay. What all did she tell you?”

“Enough. I don’t need the details, unless you want to talk about it. Other than that, my only focus is you. I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I didn’t cheat on you,” flies out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I don’t know why I said that.

“I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault, Haedyn. He’ll get what’s coming to him. Don’t worry.” Looking up at him, I don’t see pity. His features are soft but without sadness. The only way I can describe the way he’s looking at me is with admiration or dare I say… love.

Emotion drowns me, and I can’t help apologizing again.

“I’m so sorry.” And I’m crying. Again.

He wipes the tears away with his thumb. “Don’t apologize to me for this ever again. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry this happened to you and that I wasn’t there to protect you. I can promise that it won’t ever happen again, though. I’ll be here to make sure it doesn’t.”

“I hope so,” is all I can muster.

I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to move. I just want to lay here without throwing up again, which is why we spend the rest of the afternoon in my bed watching cartoons until I drift off to sleep.

For a little while, I think it’s strange that I’m okay with Charlie touching me, but none of it has been sexual. I don’t know how that’s going to work. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I can’t see that being in the very near future, though. I’d hate to accidentally throw up on his dick or his face.

That would be exactly my luck, though. Best not to tempt fate.

The way that Charlie cares for me throughout the week and into the weekend chips away at some of the ice around my heart, breaks down some of my walls that have been up for far too long.

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