Page 25 of Trusting Trey
December 21
13 Years Prior
I looked up at him as he cradled me in his arms to carry me into the house, rather than bother with the wheelchair. It was the first time I noticed he didn’t have his winter jacket on and still wore a white coat from the office. He carried me directly to the bathroom and sat me on the bathtub bench, stripping my dirty, vomit covered clothes off and throwing them in the corner. Then he stripped his white coat and shirt off, and slid me over into the tub, letting the water run warm. He tenderly rinsed away the vomit left on my chest and hair, shampooing and rinsing patiently until my skin was rosy and warm.
Without saying a word, he dried me and then carried me to his bed, setting me down and getting one of his t-shirts for me to wear before tucking me under the covers. He kissed my head and told me he would be right back with a glass of milk, but I heard him on the phone before he even reached the kitchen. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I could hear the hushed tones and the tension in his voice. It wasn’t tough to figure out he had called work and told them he wouldn’t be in the rest of the day. He returned with a warm glass of milk, handed it to me then took a seat on the bed next to me.
“You should go back to work. I’ll be fine here until you get home, as long as you bring in my wheelchair.”
He shook his head and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “I have time coming to me before the end of the year, and since that’s almost here, it’s not a problem. I was only going to do paperwork this afternoon anyway, so I’ll go in this weekend and take care of it. I need to be here with you right now.”
I looked down into the glass of milk and tried to put my jumbled thoughts in order, but as soon as I did, I felt the tears hot on my face and saw the milk slosh from the tremor of my hands. He took it from me and tucked my head under his chin, rocking me back and forth. “It’s okay, Allie. You don’t have to talk about it. I’m here to hold you and comfort you right now, that’s all you need to know.”
I sucked up a breath and heard my voice hiccup when I spoke. “I want to tell you. I have to tell you, and I have to tell the police, but after that, I’m never telling anyone again.”
He rubbed my arm and rocked me, whispering to me. “Shhh, you don’t have to tell me now. If you want me to, I’ll call the police and have an officer come take your statement. I’ll be here and you won’t have to do this alone.”
“I know, but I want to tell you first, in case, maybe, the police can’t do anything about it.”
He laughed, but it came out harsh and without mirth. “The police will do something about it when I’m done with them if it comes to that. For now, tell me what sparked your memory when you were at the restaurant today.”
“Daphne left me to wait for you at the front door. I heard a voice and for some reason it made me turn to see whom it was. His name is Sam McDonnell and he was the ring leader of the boys who attacked me,” I said, my voice wavering like an old woman’s as I tried to hold back tears. “Babahired my attacker!”
I sank against him and he rocked me while I cried, all the months of pain and frustration unleashed like a tidal wave inside me. The pain built until it was unbearable in my chest. I had to tell him everything before it killed me.
“It’s okay, Allie,” he whispered and kissed my temple continually. “He can’t hurt you now, I promise.”
I hiccupped, sucking in air each time until I could speak again. I wiped my face with the tissue he handed me and laid my head back on his chest. “I remember it all now. You dropped me off and I went inside and set my computer down near the door. It registered that my bike had tipped over on the front porch, and I went back outside to fix it. When I bent over to pick it up, someone knocked me unconscious.”
I heard him swear softly. “I should have made sure you were all the way in the house before I left.”
I shook my head a little bit. “It wouldn’t have mattered. They needed a grunt and they were willing to wait until they could get me.”
“A grunt? What is that?” he asked stymied.
“It’s what they call the new kids in the fraternity. The younger boys have to do favors for the older boys. They have to go through initiation and hazing, even though it’s not legal, and generally do all the work in the house for the first year.”
“But you’re a woman, is it the same in the sororities?”
I gave him the so-so hand. “We don’t call them grunts to their face, but they do have to work their way up in the sorority, only it’s through community service and events, not through illegal activities. I’m small physically and the boy that hit me thought I was a grunt.”
He smoothed my hair and kissed the top of my head. “Okay, what happened when you woke up?”
I sighed and used my hands to pull my legs up to my chest, so I could hug them. “Jake, the grunt who hit me, had removed my clothes and tied my hands in front of me. I was in the basement of the fraternity house and when I was fully awake they made me go to the front of the room where they had a small riser waiting for me to stand on.”
I could tell he was controlling his rage just by the way his muscles clenched as I spoke. “Wait. They made you stand naked in front of the room. Whatever for?”
“I didn’t know either, but I didn’t have a choice. I stood there with my hands tied and waited. Sam then instructed all the boys in the group to hurl insults at me about my body.”
“My God,” he whispered.
I took another breath and looked up at the ceiling. “That’s not even the worst part, Trey,” I said, my lip trembling. “That was only round one. After they finished yelling demeaning names at me, they took turns tickling me with feathers and snapping me with rubber bands in an attempt to make me wet myself where I stood.”
He moaned a little and shook his head. “That explains the small bruises they found all over your body. They thought maybe it was from gravel or where you were lying after you were hit.”
I shook my head. “No, that was all them. When I didn’t wet myself, Sam decided he needed to step up the attempts. So, they started throwing rotten tomatoes at me. Every time I tried to protest and tell them I wasn’t a grunt, I got another tomato lobbed at me. When that didn’t work, Sam got the hose.”
He held me out by my shoulders. “The hose?”
