Page 31 of Beautifully Used
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I got Brodie to agree not to tell Jackson and Lena about what had happened with Jeff right away. I told him I would tell Lena in private, and he could tell Jackson at the same time, but I didn’t want to be in the room when he told Jackson. It was embarrassing enough that Brodie even knew about it. I wanted to be the one to tell Lena. She would never forgive me for keeping it from her if she found out from someone else. I was glad my lip, as well as Brodie’s lip, had healed before Lena and Jackson returned from their honeymoon. Lena was very curious about my living arrangements when I told her I had never stayed at their house and that I was renting the bedroom at Brodie’s. I assured her that Brodie and I had checked on her place several times during the week to make sure everything was okay, and that Rufus had stayed at Brodie’s with us. I also had to convince her more than once that there was nothing going on between Brodie and me, and that took up most of the morning and two pots of coffee.
“But the strange thing is, Lena,” I began after sipping yet another cup of coffee. At this rate, I was sure to find the energy and inspiration I needed to write that next chapter in my book. “Brodie isn’t anything like the way you had led me to believe.”
“How so?”
“Well, I don’t think he sleeps around with every woman he comes in contact with. At least I haven’t seen it. In fact, I haven’t seen him with anyone the whole time I’ve been here.”
“Really?” She said reflectively. “That’s odd.”
“Why is it so odd?”
“Because for the past year, ever since I’ve known him, he’s made a great effort not to sleep here at home, and when he did, he was never alone, and it was never with the same woman more than a few times at the most.”
“Well, he’s been sleeping here every night since I arrived. Alone.” A fact that I was extremely glad about, especially now that Brodie and I were housemates. And now friends to boot. I didn’t want to hear him in his room getting it on with some floozy he’d picked up in the bar, nor did I like the idea of being left here in the old farmhouse alone with my thoughts and fears after what had happened at the reception. Which reminded me, I still needed to tell Lena about it.
I went to the fridge and pulled out some turkey lunchmeat and eight slices of bread. “There’s something I need to tell you.” I began speaking as I stayed focused on the sandwiches I was making. I spread some mayonnaise on each slice then laid the turkey on four of them.
“What?”
I turned to glance at her and she smiled. I decided it was best to just say it. Quickly. “At the reception, Jeff Adams tried to rape me.”
Lena was on her feet and standing beside me before I could even blink. Her arm was around my shoulder. “What happened?”
I told her the whole story, and about how the police believed Jeff and the girl he’d had lie for him, choosing not to believe Brodie or me. “I suppose since Brodie hadn’t shown up until later, it really was her and Jeff’s word against mine,” I found myself admitting.
“This is horrible, Gabby. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have wanted to postpone your honeymoon, and I wasn’t having any of that.”
“You’re right. I would have. And so would’ve Jackson. I’m sure of it.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. That’s exactly why Brodie and I decided not to let you guys know until you came home.”
“I’m glad Brodie was there in time. Oh my God, that’s so frightening. I can’t believe … Jeff. He doesn’t look like a rapist.”
“And what exactly does a rapist look like?” Brodie asked as he and Jackson entered the kitchen.
She turned to face him. “Good point.”
I chimed in to her rescue. “Beady, sinister-looking eyes, possibly balding head, or maybe just shaved, let’s not forget the scruffy beard. Or a hooded mask over his face and a big knife in his hand. That’s what a rapist is supposed to look like. Not like a freakin’ cover model. Not like Jeff Adams.”
The three of them just gawked at me, not knowing what to say. I suppose the cover model comment may have been a bit much, but Jeff had been awfully attractive. Handsome guys weren’t supposed to be rapists. They weren’t supposed to need to attack a woman to have sex with them. Women usually threw themselves at them. But not me. Not me. It suddenly became so fucking obvious. I turned back around to concentrate on the sandwiches in front of me. I wiped the tear off my cheek with the back of my hand. I sucked in the rest of the tears, determined to hold it together long enough to finish making these goddamn sandwiches.
“So, how was the honeymoon?” Brodie asked after the awkward deluge of silence. Thank, God.
I kept my back toward them all as Lena sucked in a breath and began talking about Hawaii and the excursions they’d gone on; the snorkeling, the beaches. I cut each sandwich in half and positioned them all neatly in a circular pile on a large plate, placing it in the middle of the table. Brodie got out four beers and twisted off the caps before placing one in front of each of us while Lena and Jackson took turns telling us every little detail about their fairy tale honeymoon. Everything was perfect and back to normal once again.
The next two weeks flew by, and I was able to complete another ten chapters in the new book. Brodie still slept at home in his own bed every night, and I wondered if or when he would start going back to his past habits. I considered that maybe he was just staying home because of what had happened to me and was being nice by not leaving me alone. I’m sure I’d mentioned more than once about how much it frightened me that Jeff was out walking the streets. One of these days, I’d get up the courage to ask Brodie about his past. Lena had mentioned that something horrible had happened that made him not want to settle down with anyone or even get into any type of relationship. Though she’d also said she didn’t know what it was since Jackson had told her he wasn’t at liberty to say. She’d shrugged it off as one of those brotherly things that she had no intention of trying to understand or get in the middle of.
I desperately tried to keep thoughts about my own past from entering my mind, as well as push any visions of Jeff’s attack away. I didn’t want them to interfere with the romantic scene I was writing. I did, however, think of Brodie and how different he was from the very first time I’d met him. I wondered how different things might have been if I hadn’t struck him and had let him kiss me. Come to think of it, I had let him kiss me. It wasn’t until his hand suddenly started roaming over my breasts that I had stopped him. I closed my eyes, thinking of that kiss, trying desperately to remember how his lips had felt on mine, but the act had been so brief, my memory couldn’t conjure any type of feeling. I hugged my arms around myself, wishing for a do-over.
Chapter 25
Brodie
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