Page 73 of In For a Penny
When I finally manage toopen my eyes, he’s carrying me up a flight of stairs, and it’s dark. The place is unfamiliar. This isn’t my apartment building.
“Where are we?” I manage to ask. “Why are you carrying me?”
“Shhh,” he replies as he continues to climb the stairs with me in his arms. My head is weighing on me, and I let it fall over his arm, legs dangling.
Don’t pass out, don’t pass out. PENNY. DO. NOT. PASS. OUT.
I struggle to keep my eyes open.
We reach the end of the stairs, and he sets me onto my feet, my legs shaky. “Just need to open the door,” he says, turning the knob. I try to make a run for it, to at least crawl down the stairs and find a way home somehow. But my legs won’t move, and he manages to scoop me up in his arms again before I can try and escape.
Next thing I know, I’m in a bed, and he’s undressing me, raising my shirt over my head and kissing down my stomach. I feel like vomiting.
Stop, stop, stop.
I try to find the words to ask him to stop, to leave me alone, but nothing comes out. I try my hardest to keep my eyes open because I know the second that I close them, I’ll pass out, and he’ll be able to do whatever he wants with me. I’m conscious enough to understand that being taken advantage of while blacked out is not something I think I would be able to survive right now. So, I think about my options.
I’m not strong enough to get him off me. Even if I were completely sober right now, the man is built bigger than he looked in his Facebook pictures. He’s much more muscular in real life and seems to have grown even larger since I first met him. Or maybe it’s just because he’s making me feel so much smaller now…
He’s on top of me and gripping my wrists so hard it hurts—and not in a good way. Not in a fun way. Not in a pain-meets-pleasure way. There’s no way I can fight him. There’s no way I would even be able to push him off me. He’s holding me down with his body weight as he kisses my neck and unbuttons my jeans with one hand. He’s got me caged in, unable to run away.
So, what do you do when there is no option offight or flight? Just accept it?
“Tom,” I manage to whisper. I won’t cry. I can’t cry.
“That’s right, baby. Say my name.”
I feel the bile rise in my throat. “Tom, please. Stop.”
He doesn’t. He sits up and pulls my jeans down in one rough movement.
I’m scared.
Don’t pass out, Penny. Don’t pass out. Hold on a little longer.
“Tom, please. I’m too drunk,” I say, although we both know that I’m not drunk. We both know he slipped me something. “I want this, too,” I lie through my teeth, doing my best to keep my eyes open and look him in the eye. His expression is frantic, like he needs to get this done now, before he gets caught. “Can you just let me sleep it off a little? I want to remember this. Let me sleep, and then we can have sex,” I manage to say. I don’t know how I’m even able to talk now, but I thank God or the universe because, even in the dark, I can see him start to consider this. I need to convince him that I want it, too.
And then, once he’s asleep, I’ll slip out without him noticing. I’ll wait until I feel better and run away. I just need to stay awake.
I push my hips up into him, and his eyes roll into the back of his head, and I gag.
I want to die.
“You promise?” he asks, pinning both of my arms down painfully.
“Yes, I promise. Just let me sleep a bit. Half an hour?”
He nods and sits up, removing his shirt. “Alright, lie on your side.”
I do as he says and roll over, hoping to God he respects my request. He slides behind me, and his arms come around my waist, hands skating over my body, grabbing at me, squeezing. I feel like throwing up, and it’s not from the alcohol. I squeeze my eyes shut and feel a tear slide down my cheek.
Stay awake, stay awake…
But I don’t.
I fall asleep and then wake from a sudden pain in between my legs, an ache on my inner thigh. “Ow!” I scream.
“Shhh,” he says, his head between my thighs. I’m lying on my back in his bed. When did that happen? Did he roll me over again?
