Page 60 of Black Roses

“No, no, no, no . . . ” her quiet plea shreds me, pummeling my body like blows to the gut.

I was barely seated within her so I pull out instantly and roll to her side. “Piper. Sweetheart, it’s me.”

“No, no, no, no . . . ” she chants with every quick breath, lost in a nightmare that I provoked.

Guilt flows through me like hot lava, my mind wildly grasping at anything that could fix this. I take a deep breath against my rising panic and clench my teeth against the wave of helplessness. I shake her lightly. “Piper, look at me,” I command. “It’s Mason. Only me. You’re okay, sweetheart.” I repeat the mantra over and over, until she hears me.

She looks around the room surprisingly, as if expecting to see something or someone else. Then she snaps out of it, recognition rolling in waves across her face as it contorts with a mixture of misery and embarrassment. She sighs, closing her eyes and pulling the covers over her naked body. She throws an arm across her face, shielding her eyes from me. “I thought I could,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

I lay on top of the covers that surround her, pulling her close to me, spooning her without letting any part of my skin except my hands touch her. “God, no.I’mthe one who’s sorry. I never should have pushed.” I run my hand gently down her arm, my fingers coming across her bracelet. I slowly trace the charm. “You weren’t ready. I should have known.”

“You didn’t push me Mason. I wanted it. Iwantit. I’m just not sure I can.” I feel her chest rise and fall in a deep sigh.

“Shhhh.” I hold her tightly and she lets me. We lie like this for long minutes, just listening to each other breathe. I need her to know I’m here for her. I need her to feel it. I’m all in.

Shivers run down my spine as she takes in and lets out an insurmountable quantity of air. She’s about to talk. Secrets are about to spill from her lips. Horrifying, gut-wrenching secrets.

“You know how when you wake up from a dream and you could swear it was real?” she asks. “How you can’t understand how something with such clarity and detail didn’t really happen?”

I nod my head into her neck. “Yes,” I breathe my answer into her hair. I absolutely fucking know.

“I’m not a virgin,” she quietly reveals, emotion breaking her voice. “But I don’t remember losing my virginity.”

I stiffen, taking her hand as I brace myself to hear everything she has to say.

“And I don’t know who I lost it to because there were so many boys. So many . . . ” Her words fall apart, trailing off as sick fear coils my insides.

My brain takes a second to get from ‘I don’t remember losing my virginity’to ‘so many boys.’ And then all of a sudden, my mind starts to put pieces of the puzzle together.

She spills drinks on purpose.

She can’t remember.

So many boys.

Fuck.My stomach rolls. Bile burns my throat and a rage I can barely control pounds at my temples. I try to push down my emotions. Because this—what’s happening right now—is huge. She trusts me enough to open up to me. Maybe she evenlovesme enough to do it.

“Piper.” It’s all I can get past the colossal knot in my airway. I have to remind myself to breathe as I caress her arm gently. She needs to know I’m not repulsed by her revelation. And even though all words are lost to me, I try to reassure her with my touch.

“I didn’t even know it happened. Not for a long time after,” she says in a troubled whisper that I strain to hear. “I was sore the next day. Really sore. I thought it was because I had started running with Charlie the day before.” She pauses and clears her throat, clearly uncomfortable as she continues, “There was some blood. But I was always a little irregular where that was concerned.”

I get lost in the haunted sorrow of her voice as I brush her hair behind her neck and let my fingers attempt to rub some tension from her. My eyes fall onto her tattoo, making me wonder what it has to do with her assault.

“I started having dreams. Flashbacks,” she says. “Each one revealing a clue to what happened to me that night. But at the time, I didn’t know the nightmares were real. They’re never the same. Sometimes I fight. Sometimes I run away. Most times though, I participate willingly.”

Her breath comes in short spurts of air, tension rolling off her in palpable waves. “They say I was most likely drugged with sleeping pills since I never felt sick after. They told me it was unlikely I even put up a fight—that those drugs are meant to relax you and almost put you in some sort of alternate reality.”

The aching throb in my chest turns into unrelenting fury in my gut. Anger clouds my brain and rage bubbles deep in my blood. I want to ball my fists and hit something; hurt something as deeply and as punishingly as she’s been hurt. It takes everything I have to lid my own emotions and offer her a comforting word. “God, Piper. I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine—”

Her neck strains as she looks back at me, cutting off the first words I could muster. “But youcanimagine,” she says. “You might be the only one who can, Mason. I have no idea what happened to me that night. Every dream I have is a different version. I may never know what happened. Just like you.”

Shit. More of the puzzle pieces fall into place. “The marathon. Did you see someone? One of your attackers?”

She nods. “I think so. But I’ll never know for sure. He could have been anybody; or nobody. Or he could have been one of the guys who assaulted me. Or”— I feel the bunching and quivering of muscles in her neck—“he could have simply been a drunk kid at the party having a good time, clueless to the fact that he was raping a girl.”

Oh my God. Her murky waters run far deeper than I can fathom. Flashes of my own dreams—dozens of them—shuffle through my mind. I know all too well what not knowing the truth did to me. It almost killed me. But with help, I got myself to a place where I could manage it. I wonder if Piper will ever be able to get there.

I damn well plan on being around to do everything in my power to make sure she does.

---