Love Found in California (The Washington Triplets) (12 page)

The kiss had barely started when I felt Eric’s hand grab onto my waist. His tongue became more forceful as it slid across mine, so I tried to match the intensity of it. Then his fingers touched my bare waist just under my shirt. I flinched and worried he felt it, but it didn’t stop him from kissing me. He gripped my waist, now with both hands under my shirt tightly and pulled himself into me.

Again I flinched because I could feel the length of him at my abdomen. The wetness of his swimsuit seeped into my underwear. He groaned into my mouth and this time I tried to pull myself from his hold. Our mouths separated, but his body stayed in contact with mine, his grip still tight.

“So you do know what you’re doing,” he stated huskily, his voice sounding raspy and dry. Blindly, I took it as a compliment and turned my head down and slightly to the side. I couldn’t stop the small smile that hovered on my lips. I was partly ashamed of my joy about his praise and partly proud. “Don’t turn away.” His fingers released the one side of my waist and came to lift my chin up. “I want to keep kissing you; you’re quiet but I think I like that.”

This time when our lips met, I whimpered from the force of his tongue and teeth. He nipped and pressed too hard, but I could tell he thought I was enjoying it. I tried to pull back again, but he only drove his tongue in further. My sounds of protest became muffled, and when I tried to squirm out of his firm hands on my hips, I couldn’t get away.

Suddenly, the strength of Eric’s body, presence, even his scent, was too much. I weakened with each passing second. My sounds more and more muffled. His hands grabbing me closer and closer to him. I had no room to breathe or move. My body sunk into something soft and the wetness of my towel hit my bare behind. The heaviness of Eric consumed my body. Somehow my underwear was already halfway down my thighs. I could feel the slick skin of his hardness move up and down along my abdomen … and then down further.

I felt small and then another minute passed and I felt even smaller. A ripping sound shrieked through my ear canals, as if that was all I could hear. My underwear was gone. I started to scream into Eric’s mouth, but he grabbed part of my comforter and covered my mouth. The only sound that could be heard by anyone outside of this room was the music from the block party.

“Shh, just be quiet, like you always are,” he heaved out in between deep frustrated breaths along my sweaty forehead. “It’ll only take a minute.” I didn’t stop though, I kept screaming. My legs and arms were strained but I kept fighting. Even in my fitful fight I could feel my soul being taken somewhere dark with no point of return anytime soon.

The whole time I knew it wasn’t enough though. This horrible act would occur regardless of how loud or quiet I was. Eric was probably right, it only took a minute, but for me it felt like I lost a lifetime. June 30
th
, 2007 would forever be embedded into a dark compartment in my mind. The mixed emotions I felt about Eric Black would haunt me relentlessly. The shame I felt was nothing compared to how incredibly stupid I felt for trusting him, for liking him even. It made me feel as if I asked for it. In the end, I felt completely and utterly destroyed.

When Eric rolled off me I gasped, but no noise came out of my mouth. My sobs were quiet, yet my ears were flooded with white noise. He mumbled some words that were incoherent to me and then as he opened my door he said, “Fuck, let’s not tell anyone about this.”

I DID IT. I SPILLED
my guts, telling Ryan every gory detail of that night. I never even paused to cry or take a deep breath. Now, besides my therapists, Ryan is the only person who knows everything. Even my mom did not know all of this and she certainly never knew that Eric Black was the reason I stayed in my room locked up for months. No one knew that it was because of Eric that I stayed at home, never went to college with my sisters and became recluse.

Deep heavy breaths fill the silence of the room from not only me, but Ryan too, while my mind and body swim with anxiety. The fear I felt before the words left my mouth has only increased. Now that I have something solid and concrete to lose, my heart feels the heaviest it’s felt in ages.

The thing about rape is that it’s one thing for your mind to know what occurred was indeed rape, but that reasoning is never delivered to your heart and soul. My heart and soul seem to always doubt and put the blame on me. Still even now, after just reliving the event, I curse myself for ever having that stupid crush and for liking it when he kissed me.

I can only imagine the thoughts swimming through Ryan’s head right now … I sit here stiff, praying that he isn’t angry with me for keeping this from him. I’m sure there is a pool of memories between us that had struck him as odd, but now make some kind of sense. The thing is though, I know I’m odd, certainly more odd after that day, but I also know I’ve made progress over the years.

Sitting there stiff, barely able to take in my next breath, I notice the dip in the bed beside me. Ryan is pacing the small space between the bed and the windows, fists clenched at his sides, jaw ridged and head shaking ever so slightly.

“Shit,” I hear Ryan grit out, even though his jaw is locked.

My breathing picks up in speed as dark thoughts and feelings begin to invade the open space of my mind. Red and blues swirl through me as I think that maybe I shouldn’t have shared this. It’s too much. Maybe Ryan views me as damaged goods or feels I deserved it or …

“Did your parents know about this?” Ryan demands, still pacing back and forth. Not being able to read his reaction, I stand up in the hopes of evening my breathing out. I beg myself to not panic. “Mik, answer me.” His voice is hoarse and raw.

“No … not really. My mom knew something, but not the details.” One breath at a time I begin to step closer to him. Tears stain both of his cheeks and his wet lashes lay clumped together along the tender skin just below his closed eyes. He’s standing still for the first time since I finished telling him.

“Fuck, I’ll kill ‘em, Mik,” he states clear as day, jaw slackened a little now.

“Ry?” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer. “Ry?” I ask a little louder.

“What Mik? What?” he questions too loud, anger prevalent in his tone. His eyes open and they look wild, unfocused.

“You’re scaring me,” I mutter with my eyes beginning to pool with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell them? It’s been too long now. He should have paid for his crime.” Again he starts pacing.

“I didn’t tell them because …” I pause remembering exactly why I didn’t tell them the horrid details. I would never have told my dad, but my mom I could have. Instead I kept it locked up inside me, unsure of my own wrongs. My mom is gone now, so there’s no way for me to know if I could have ever told her. She did her best to comfort me considering she only knew I was hurt about a boy. She knew it ran deeper than a crush, yet I knew it had all started because of a stupid crush on a ‘bad boy’. Had it not been for her persistence, I would have never gone to therapy, moved out and pursued my own life though. Those notions had built in me because of her. Her passing only encouraged me to do what I know she wanted more than the sun to rise the next day.

“Why? Damn it, why?” The words sound accusing, but his tone is anything but. It’s as if he’s crying out and pleading to fix this. His shoulders tense and his hands start to shake.

“I, just, I couldn’t,” I say softly. His pacing stops and we stare at each other with more distance between us than I’d like. “Because … I thought I asked for it. I wanted him to kiss me and I liked it when he did. I had a crush on him too. But most of all, I knew deep down that he wasn’t good and by the time I wanted him to stop, it was too late.”

Ryan’s breathing slows and all I can see is the hurt traced in the lines of his face. He looks beaten and broken down. “It should never be too late.” The words come out strong, making it clear that Ryan is anything but angry with me. “I didn’t know; how could I have not known this? Love, you should have told me. You need to know that you can trust me and that no matter what I will love you, Mik.” His heavy footsteps reach me just as I begin to crumble to the floor. The strength of Ryan’s arms, scooping me into his lap as we both fall, floods me with bright colors. His gentle fingers hold my face while tears stream down my face and his own eyes glisten with the same tears.

Time passes and then Ryan carries me up to our bed. He covers us with the comforter and we wrap ourselves around each other. Our legs entwine and his arms circle me protectively. For me, the tension I have over this kept secret is fading, but for Ryan it seems it’s just beginning. My colors of red, blue and purple are down so deep they almost seem nonexistent. Yet I can feel them seeping into Ryan. This will all be new to him and it scares me because I don’t imagine Ryan has ever really had darkness in his life.

Just as my eyes begin to close and my breathing settles into a consistent rhythm, Ryan’s lips kiss the top of my head. Through his raw voice he says, “I’m so sorry, love.” I knew this would be hard; the hardest confession I’ve ever made, but it’s more heart-breaking than I imagined. Hurting someone you love is not even close to gratifying nor does it provide enough relief. It leaves a burden, a curse and a permanent marking on your heart. Shame creeps into me as I clutch onto Ryan’s body. I squeeze him tighter to me, afraid that he’ll let go, but he never does. All night we stay locked together.

THE MORNING LIGHT OF THE
sun rising begins to creep in our room, but it’s still foggy outside. Watching the fog drift off the ocean, I’m thankful that I can still get in some more sleep before the sun brightens up our entire room.

Ryan’s heavy breathing confirms that he’s still in a deep sleep. I don’t think he’s ever slept in since we’ve been together. Yesterday was such an exhausting and emotional day all around that sleep definitely is our best option. Soon the memories of the day flit through my mind and then my own breathing steadies. In my dream, I sleep and sleep some more. I sleep so much that I bypass facing the after effects of my confession, Ryan’s parents, the business I lost, and my family at my dad’s wedding.

My sleep is perfect, except for the constant ringing that interrupts my perfect sleep with every ring. When I wake again, I feel weightless and light. Realization that Ryan’s not in bed though hits me like a heavy brick.
Ring. Ring.
My eyes barely open, but I find the phone and sleepily answer.

Even as I say “hello” I already know that there are only two people who ever call this number, Ryan’s mom and dad.

Ryan’s mom’s voice is high pitched, waking me from any lasting sleep I felt in me. “Oh, hi dear, Mikaela?” I’m sure my morning voice has thrown her off.

“Hi, yes, it’s me. Um, I don’t think Ryan’s here,” I tell her as politely as I can and swallow down the rawness in my throat. Even in my haze, I’m still upset and hurt by her and Mr. Chambers’ actions last night. Most of all it hurts me because I know it’s killing Ryan inside. He loves his parents, but he’s in love with me. The best thing I can do is to be polite, courteous and maybe even bring the most important people in his life in alignment.

“Oh, I figured he was ignoring my calls. I’ve been calling all morning.” Just as I’m about to fill in the gap in conversation, she continues on. “Anyway, I will be stopping by shortly. I just want to make sure you’ll be home. I know Ryan usually stays home Sunday’s to rest and make sure he’s ready for the week at work. Mmm, yes?” I don’t bother to tell that he no longer does this since we have been together. It hits me just how hard change is for this woman. Especially when it comes to her son.

“Oh, um, okay. I-I, yes that’s fine. We’ll be here.” The woman talks fast and I respond with the easiest way to end the conversation. Smoothing this over seems highly unlikely, but I’ll do my best to be a good daughter-in-law and an even better wife if I can fix this.

“Thanks, dear. I’ll see you in a few.” The line goes dead and I realize that if I know her well, she’ll be here in within the hour. Dinnertime is just around the corner. I hadn’t intended to sleep that much longer, but it was definitely needed.