Page 11 of Restitution
“Fuck, I didn’t… We wouldn’t…” He stops, shaking his head and dropping it. “This is not happening. Please tell me this is not fucking happening. I have a goddamn fiancée! You’re my little brother’s girlfriend!”
I try to swallow again, but my throat is swollen. “Why am I here, Jason?”
He glances up, his hair a mess, eyes red. “I don’t fucking know. Why are you here? Why were you in my bed?”
I flinch as I step back, and there’s a horrible stinging sensation between my legs. My knees buckle – my spine is close to snapping from the pressure of my body trying to stay upright.
Flashes come to me, and my chest caves inward, seeing different faces above me. Bodies. In and around me.
I remember different smells. Grunts. Being bitten.
Someone pressing his large hand against my face, forcing my head into the mattress, hard enough that I thought my skull would crack.
Being strangled until my vision faded.
Someone slapping me, or was it a headbutt?
My stepbrother’s voice.
The need to run and scream but not being in control of my body. My mind was barely there, but I remember parts. The feeling of being lost. Empty. How much I wanted my boyfriend or my other brother to burst in the door and put a stop to it.
I remember the terror. I remember more than one person being… And they…
My heart sinks as an image of Jason comes to the forefront of my brain, and my eyes burn as I remember that he was with them. He was on top of me and beneath me. My hand covers my mouth, and I back into the corner of the room, far away from him. “Did you rape me?”
He pulls on a pair of boxers and stands. “What? No. I wouldn’t… I would never… I… Wait, some guy got me shit-faced and… Fuck, I think we…” He bites his lip and stares at me desperately. “What age are you? Same age as Kade?”
“Nineteen,” I reply, my jaw jittering as I grip the duvet until ithurts more than my body.
“I didn’t rape you. Please fucking believe me. I would never do that.”
I chew my already swollen and cut lip. “I was raped. I remember being raped. I screamed for it to stop and tried to fight back. I remember you.”
He looks at the bed, the fluid stains there, and his chest rises and falls heavier. “I think we just… I didn’t rape you, Stacey. I promise you. I’m not a rapist.”
My cheeks are soaked. “But you were on top of me,” I say with a sob, sinking my nails into my palm. “You were on top of me. I didn’t want to. I love Kade.”
Jason looks over at me, his face pale. A part of me believes that he’s innocent. “Did we really…?” he asks, his eyes glazing over.
“I think so.” I wet my dry lips and glance away. “I think we did. I’m… I’m really sore.”
His face falls when I lift my eyes back to him. “You’re sore?”
I nod. “And I have deep bite marks on my chest and thighs. I’m bruised.” I don’t mention the pain in and around my behind. I’m distraught as it is.
He paces, pulling at his hair, muttering to himself about his partner, how Kade will kill him, and questioning himself on whether or not we actually had sex. Wondering if it might be a bad dream.
“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry. I need to go. I need to go.” I try to walk, but my lungs seize, and I gasp from the combined pain all over me and hunch over.
I flinch as Jason tries to help me, a terrified sound escaping my lips. He steps back, raising both hands.
“I’ll get you something.” Jason rubs his face with his palm and yanks open the drawers of his dresser, pulling clothes out. “Put theseon.” He drops the pile in my lap and opens his bedside unit while I slide them on. While his back is turned, I drop the duvet and pull on the top as he hurries into the bathroom and pours me a glass of water. “Take these. If you’re sore, they’ll help.”
I stare at his hand, at the two white pills, and I shake my head. “No.”
“I promise you,” he says, slowly kneeling in front of me but still keeping his distance. “I didn’t know it was you. I… don’t remember much, but I… I thought you were Giana. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. I’ll fix this.”
I flinch as he takes my hand and puts the pills into it.
