Page 67 of Save the Game

The door opens after what feels like hours later, and I jolt upright, cold sweat immediately breaking out along the back of my neck. It’s a different officer than the one who brought me in; this one is older, gray-haired and beefy where the cop who’d cuffed me had been young and fit. He’s carrying a slim folder as well as a legal pad, which he sets down on the table next to a plastic bag that has my phone and wallet inside.

“Are you thirsty, Mr. Kelly?” He asks, and I shake my head, mutely. He nods and takes a seat across from me. “My name is Officer Bruce Reynolds.”

“Am I under arrest?” I ask, staring at the folder sitting in front of him.

“No.”

“Is Bryce under arrest?”

“No.”

I wait, but he doesn’t seem in any hurry to elaborate. I look around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. My gaze lands on his watch. “What time is it?”

“Just after midnight,” he answers, before sighing. “Would you like to tell me what happened tonight, Mr. Kelly?”

“Yeah,” I say, before straightening and firming up my voice. “Yeah, I would. Bryce and I went to a party at the Pig, and a couple of his teammates—Theo and Cruz, sorry I don’t know their full names—came over and,” I’m picking up steam now, rage and disgust returning to my bloodstream and bolstering me, “that piece of shit Theo starting talking about my boyfriend Max. Max Kuemper. That’s K-U-E-M-P-E-R.”

I wait, in case he wants to write any of this down. He doesn’t, but sits there silently waiting for me to continue. I clench my shaking hands together in my lap, grimacing when some of the cuts reopen.

“He…he was saying…okay, I need to back up. Last year, Max got roofied at a party and somebody assaulted him. And tonight, fucking Theo started saying all this shit about…about how he’d slept with Max but it was…he said a bunch of stuff about how when he got with Max last year it wasn’t fun because there wasn’t enough fight or begging or some shit,” I’m panting, barely able to catch my breath and get the words out. Distantly, I know I’m probably not making sense, but the words tumble from my mouth before I can straighten them out into proper sentences. “He practically admitted he r—raped him. He said Max didn’t say no, but he was drugged.”

I gulp a mouthful of air, rubbing the fingers of my left hand over the knuckles on my right, trying to use the pain to ground me. I’m going to cry or be sick—maybe both—and I need to make sure he understands what I’m saying before I do.

“That Theo guy raped him. And then he was bragging about it, fucking smiling like he hadn’t done anything wrong. Like he’d gotten away with it.” My voice breaks on a sob and I raise a hand to rub my palm over my face. I need to keep it together. Losing my shit now won’t help Max or Bryce.

“Let me get you some water, Mr. Kelly,” Officer Reynolds says in a surprisingly gentle voice, standing and leaving the room. He’s back barely thirty seconds later, water bottle in hand. He puts it down in front of me before sitting back down.

“Thank you,” I mumble, grasping the bottle in my shaking hands and taking a swig.

“So, you heard all that about your friend and lost control,” he says, and I nod. “Understandable.”

“Bryce didn’t do anything, though. Bryce is innocent.”

“You’re not under arrest,” he reminds me. “Neither of you are.”

“But Theo is, right? Can I…can I press charges? For what he did to Max?” I know next to nothing about the justice system, beyond what I’ve seen in movies. Officer Reynolds taps his folder, mouth turned down in a frown.

“No, son, you can’t press charges against him for something he said.” He holds up a hand before I can argue. “But he is under arrest, yes. Mr. Theodore Cox was arrested for trying to assault an officer and for being in possession of Rohypnol, which is a Schedule IV substance under the Controlled Substances Act.”

“Okay,” I say, unsure of what sort of charges those things might induce.

“A certain Robert Cruz was also brought in. He’s had a few things to tell us as well. Most of it about Mr. Cox, and some of it concerning your friend Max Kuemper, as well.”

Thinking about the way he laughed when Theo was talking about Max, I fire up at once. “That motherfucker was probably involved. I would bet anything, sir. He was laughing and smiling when Theo was talking, like he found it funny. Like he thought the whole thing was a joke.”

Officer Reynolds sighs again, and opens up the folder in front of him, pulling out a sheet of paper. He angles it away from me, hiding the contents. There is a label affixed to the front of the file: Max Kuemper, followed by the date and a case number. I look away. I don’t want to see what’s in there.

“According to Mr. Cruz, an assault on Max Kuemper was carried out by Theodore Cox over a year ago, on the night of October the 9th. Mr. Cruz admits to being the one who put the Rohypnol into his drink, as well as the one who invited him into the upstairs bedroom under the pretense of showing him to the bathroom after Mr. Kuemper began to feel the effects of the drug. Rohypnol, you see, is a very potent drug, Mr. Kelly, and they gave him too much. They’d wanted him pliable, not unconscious.”

My stomach lurches and I close my eyes. Officer Reynolds stops talking, waiting for me to give him my undivided attention before he continues in a hard, steady voice.

“We have a rape kit on file for Mr. Kuemper and the DNA will be tested against Mr. Cox’s once he is finished in booking,” he tells me calmly, “and in a couple of weeks, we’ll have the results.”

“Weeks?” I repeat, incredulous. He smiles, sadly.

“This isn’t television, Mr. Kelly. These things take time. But coupled with the detailed statement from Mr. Cruz and the presence of Rohypnol on his person tonight, I feel confident in telling you that Mr. Cox will be held accountable for his actions.”

“I…so, what happens now?”

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