Page 53 of Hurt for Me

Rae stopped by a taco truck for dinner on their drive back from the police station. Filing the report took way longer than she’d expected, and it was now early evening, the setting sun casting a pink glow over the Sandia Mountains. “Sandíameans ‘watermelon’ in Spanish,” Viv had once told her, and Rae was transfixed every time she saw the rose-tinted peaks. But not this evening.

Her mind was too filled with frustration at the police. The officer who took Rae’s witness statement seemed to be going through the motions with no real concern about Viv’s safety. When she described how Mark held Viv against the door by her throat, his facial expression never changed. Like it was something normal to him. But then Rae used to think it was normal for her, when Clint, Bobby, or some of the other men hurt her. It was easier to pretend everyone experienced the same thing so she wouldn’t feel alone.

She needed a plan in case Mark came back around, and from what Viv had told her, she fully expected him to get violent again. If he did, she wanted to be ready.

Rae poured Viv some red wine and ran her a bath after they ate, hopeful it’d make her friend relaxed enough to get some sleep. She didn’t tell Viv what she had learned at her prenatal visit. It would only give Viv more stress. The strain of the day made Rae want to collapse into bed with all her clothes on and sleep for days. Not exactly how she would’ve chosen to cure her insomnia, but she would take it.

Once Viv was comfortable in her bath, Rae decided to skip her evening live stream. She couldn’t handle seeing the vulgar comments from her male viewers right then. She took a quick shower in the guest bathroom and made herself some tea while she checked her email. She had ordered two pairs of maternity jeans online since she’d had trouble finding any at the local thrift stores, and the site hadn’t sent her the shipping notification yet after ten days.

No email from the site, but she had an email from someone named Marilyn Reid. She was afraid to open it. The email was from Katelyn’smother, and Rae didn’t think she could handle anything else, good or bad. She almost closed her laptop without reading it, but her curiosity was a bitch. She quickly read it and then read it again, more slowly:

Dear Echo,

We’re sorry to email you like this, and we’re not even sure if this is the correct email for you since the California police refused to give us your contact information. However, we were able to convince a nice receptionist at the New Mexico police station to give us the email address you gave to detectives. If this is you, we want to thank you for saving our little girl. She still talks about you and calls you her angel lady.

We can only imagine what you went through to save her. Thank you will never be adequate, but we are so thankful for you and hope you’re doing well given all you’ve experienced. You are a true blessing to us. If you ever need anything, please never hesitate to reach out.

Eternally grateful to you and God,

Marilyn and Ben Reid

Rae stared at the phone number they included, the numbers blurring as she rubbed tears from her eyes. She knew she should write them back, but she didn’t know how to respond. She wondered if they would still be thankful for her if they knew she had failed to save Bethor Maria. Or if they knew she killed two men in the process of saving their daughter.

Lily thrashed inside her, her tiny fist stretching Rae’s stomach out at a grotesque angle. She circled her hand across her belly, over and over until Lily’s kicking subsided.

Yes,she thought. If it meant killing a hundred men to save Katelyn Reid, Rae was sure the girl’s parents would be thankful.

CHAPTER 34

RAE

2024

Everything was bloodred and bright in every direction. Rae heard birds chirping nearby, but she couldn’t see them, and she tried to speak, but her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. She was thirstier than she’d ever been in her life, but she was also cold, and her entire body felt bruised.

Open your eyes,she ordered herself.Open them, damn it.

Her right eye cracked open, then her left, and for several moments she had no idea where she was or how she’d gotten there. She turned her head and saw Dayton, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. Her head was resting on his outstretched arm, his other arm draped over her waist. She saw they were both completely naked and out in the open in a garden, the sun creeping up over the tall hedges surrounding them, casting an eerie rosy glow on their skin.

Then she remembered: last night and being drugged, the things Dayton said to her and how they’d been unable to stop themselves.

She carefully slid his left arm off her and sat up. Her head was pounding, but she forced herself to stand up and put on her halter top and high-waisted booty shorts. Then she sat back down, a wooziness overwhelming her.

She watched Dayton as he slept, her eyes soaking up the contours of his body until she landed on a bite mark on his upper left arm. Then she recalled the last thought she had before completely succumbing to the compulsions of the drug: she wanted to taste Dayton, to feel his flesh taut between her teeth as she ran her tongue over him, so she bit him. Hard. The memory of it, of how intense he came in her after she did it, ignited flames in her hips, and she had to stop herself from pressing the mark.

A sudden rush of guilt blazed through her chest, the same feeling she had when she’d been caught cheating on a spelling test in second grade. There had been no consent the prior night, and, logically, she knew it wasn’t possible with being drugged, but it still nagged at her.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around what they’d done. He had wanted to have sex, but a piercing anxiety went through her that it was only the drug talking. She knew he’d wake up and realize it had been a mistake. It didn’t feel like a mistake to her, though she never would’ve chosen those circumstances to have sex with him. Even before they were drugged, she knew she had sensed a connection with him from the moment they’d met, but she also knew attraction could be a flighty creature, especially in men.

She studied the feather tattoo on his right inner forearm. She hadn’t noticed before, but she saw the vanes of the feather contained two words cleverly disguised within the design: “For Tula.” She ran her finger across the tattoo, wondering who Tula was, and Dayton stirred awake.

He looked as confused as she likely had minutes before. His face turned red when he saw he was naked, and she turned her head away from him as she handed him his clothes.

“Thank you,” he said before he got dressed.

When she was sure he was clothed, she turned to see him checking that his bodycam was still on his suit jacket, bewilderment remaining on his face. He looked at her, and his face reddened again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he said. “What we ...”

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