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Authors: Kay Gordon

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BOOK: Scars of the Past
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Without separating our lips, he sat up and pulled me so I was sideways in his lap. His fingers tangled into my hair, holding me to him. His tongue gently moved along my lips, and when I parted them I let my own tongue meld against his, slowly and sensually. When we finally parted, his eyes were glassy, and my breathing was erratic. Josh just kissed the tip of my nose, and hugged me to his chest. We didn’t talk about it that night, but the glances and smiles we shared before he went home told me that maybe we could talk about it the next day.

We didn’t.

He had text me the next morning that he had to drive home to San Diego because of a family emergency, and that he’d text or call as soon as he could. Apparently he never could because until that night at the club I hadn’t heard from him since. Texts were never replied to, phone calls never answered, and at some point his cell phone was disconnected.

It had been the most amazing kiss I’d ever had, and then he’d disappeared. I wasn’t exactly inexperienced in the kiss department, having dated boys during my high school and college years, and even losing my virginity to my boyfriend my senior year. But something about the kiss I shared with Josh made all the stuff I had experienced before just imitations of the real thing.

I stared at that picture a little while longer and then shook my head, as if to clear it of the reminiscent thoughts. Things had changed a lot since then. He didn’t seem like the same Josh and I definitely wasn’t the same Maddie.

I placed my cup in the sink and headed back to my room. I tried my hardest to sleep, but instead ended up tossing and turning until the sun started to come up. When I heard Amanda head out the front door for her morning run, I decided it was probably time for me to get up. And probably time for me to call someone, too.

Chapter Seven

By the time we got to campus on Monday, I tried to be more involved with my friends and the classes, especially since Brianna and Aaron were started to show some concern. I felt like the façade was working at school, but I knew that even though it wasn’t working at home, the girls were trying not to be so obvious.

At lunch time, I had told Sydney that I needed to talk to a professor and that I’d see her at the end of the day. Instead, I found a quiet spot near the student union and worked up the courage to call the number Josh had given me.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to do individual therapy just yet, but I had decided that going to a support group, where it wasn’t mandatory that I talked, probably couldn’t hurt. The lady on the phone had been very soft spoken and friendly when I could barely manage to get the words out of my mouth. She explained that the group met every Tuesday evening at a church located in downtown Sacramento, and that everything that was said while in group was to remain confidential.

I didn’t want to tell the girls about the group, not right away at least. They would make a big deal about it, maybe even expect it to be immediately helpful, and I didn’t think I could take seeing the disappointment in their eyes.

After classes were over, we headed towards my mom’s house for Matthew’s last night before he went back on duty.

Amanda shook me awake, and I realized I had fallen asleep in the car.  “Maddie, we’re at your mom’s house.”

I climbed out of the backseat of the car and led my friends inside the house, not bothering to knock before I opened the front door.

“Mom, Matt?” I called, dropping my purse on the sofa table as I walked through the living room.

My mom answered from the kitchen, and I rounded the corner to see her chopping vegetables, her eyes full of tears.

I glanced back at my friends, and they understood my quick look and continued on to the back patio.

“Hey mama,” I said quietly, wrapping my arms around her from behind.

“Hey baby girl.” She put down the knife, wiped her hands, and turned around so she could return the embrace.

“How are you feeling?” She pulled back a little and inspected me like I could possibly have changed since the night before.

“About the same,” I replied honestly, knowing better than to lie to my mom’s face.

She just nodded in understanding and let out a big sigh. “I wish I could just lock you two in your bedrooms and keep you safe there forever.”

“Us Thomas kids are tough, Ma. You made sure of that.” Matthew walked through the back door, and put his arms around mom and me.  “Soon, I will be back for good and you two will be sick of me.”

We stood there like that for a few moments before mom shooed us both back outside, insisting she didn’t want any help with dinner.

Amanda and Sydney were jumping on the old trampoline; both of them laughing like maniacs as they let took turns bouncing the other as high as they could.

I stood next to Matthew and leaned into him. “Please be careful out there. I really wish you didn’t have to go back.”

He put an arm around me and kept staring out into the back yard. “I don’t like leaving you guys, but even more so now. I hate leaving you knowing that prick is still out there somewhere.”

“No. Please don’t worry about me over there,” I looked up at him, trying to instill my best mom impression on him. “I need you to not be distracted so you can make it home safe, okay?”

“You’re ridiculous, Madelyn Louise.” He rolled his eyes as he squeezed me tightly. “Wait here, I have something for you.” He took off into the house, and I watched as Sydney tried to do a front flip that ended up being more a spastic half-somersault. Amanda was laughing so hard she had fallen to her knees, and Sydney promptly went and knocked her over.

Matthew reappeared holding a small box, and he handed to me. “Read the manual, keep it charged, and keep it with you. “

I looked at it for a moment trying to decide what it was when I realized it was a small stun gun.

“If you even think someone is threatening you, Mad, you stun first and ask questions later, okay?”

I gave a small chuckle before agreeing. “Okay. Hopefully I don’t stun myself in the process.”

His shoulders shook with laughter as he reached out to mess up my hair. “Sadly, I can see that happening, too.”

–––

Leaving my mom’s house was hard, and by the time we finally left, I was a soggy mess from the tears I’d shed. Amanda looked somber in the passenger seat, and I thought I saw her wipe a few tears away as well.

When we made it back to the apartment, I said goodnight to the girls and went straight to bed, barely stopping to change my clothes. The lack of sleep from the night before and emotional upheaval of the evening had taken its toll on me.

I woke up suddenly sometime later, and I was instantly confused as to what had brought me out of my sleep. The clock on the nightstand read 6:14 am, and I was impressed at how long I’d slept. I sat still for a moment before I saw the flash of lightning outside my window. Seconds later it was followed by a clap of thunder that made me jump. I stretched my arms above my head and exhaled in frustration. The first night I’m able to sleep for more than three hours and a random storm rolled through. I was starting to question my luck.

I reached over and pulled my phone off the nightstand. Unlocking it, I saw I had a text from Matthew from about an hour before.

Matt: At the airport, miss you already. Be safe and stun as needed! Love you Mad.

I frowned at the reminder that my big brother was off once again, and tapped out my reply quickly.

Me: You be safe too, or else I’ll stun your ass when you get home. Love you more Matty.

I closed the text message screen and opened my email, scrolling through the various and pointless school messages. I came to one from my boss that had been sent last night that had the schedule for the upcoming weekends on it. I added the times to my phone’s calendar and deleted two more random emails before a text came through again. Assuming it was Matthew, I was surprised when it wasn’t his name that showed up.

Josh: She’s not my girlfriend, she’s an obligation.

I stared at the screen, thoroughly confused with the context of the message, and why he decided to send it now. I thought for a moment before I hit the reply button and tapped out my own text.

Me: It’s not my business. You can date (or not date) whoever you want.

I hit ‘send’ and threw my phone to the foot of my bed in frustration. Why was he even bothering to break his silence now?

I stared out the window and watch the lightning continually flash for a few minutes before my phone vibrated against my foot.  I picked it up, knowing that it was another message from Josh before I even unlocked it.

Josh: Did I wake you? I’m sorry if I did. I know you deserve a better explanation than that but it’s the best I can do right now.

I rolled my eyes at the vague, brush off and didn’t bother replying. Instead, I decided to hurry to the shower in case Amanda was due to wake up anytime soon.

After my shower, I was heading back to my room when the door next to mine opened and Amanda came out, a surly look on her face.

“I hate mornings when I can’t run,” she grumbled as walked towards the bathroom.

“You’re so weird,” I replied, turning to give her a smile.

She smirked and stuck her tongue out before shutting the bathroom door.

I moved back into the bedroom, getting dressed and purposely avoiding my phone. I was torn because I wanted a message from him but I didn’t at the same time.

After about forty-five minutes, I was dressed and ready for class, but also out of reasons to avoid my phone.

Picking it up, I held my breath as I opened the text app. When I saw he had sent two new messages, I exhaled in relief before feeling irritated with myself that he still affected me so much.

Josh: I hate disappointing you. I feel like it’s all I’ve done in two years. But I want you to know how sorry I am for it all- For leaving like I did, for not keeping in touch, and most of all, for not saving you. I’ll never forgive myself for that night.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I had to blink really fast to avoid letting them run down my cheeks before I scrolled to the next one.

Josh: I’ve missed talking to you so much. You looked really beautiful the other night, not that you don’t always look beautiful, but seeing you so happy with your family makes you shine.

My heart squeezed, but a part of me wondered if I could fall back into that easy friendship with Josh when I’d imagined us being more at the end.

I didn’t reply, instead I just stuffed my phone into my purse before heading out to the living room. Amanda was sitting on the couch restlessly flipping through the TV channels quickly. I dropped down next to her and put my feet up on the coffee table.

“We need to get you a treadmill or something. I almost killed you last winter, and I’m not sure our friendship can survive another.”

She dropped the remote in frustration and sighed. “I know. I keep thinking about it, but usually when the weather is nice so it never happens.” She glanced at me. “Matt make it to the airport okay?”

“Yup,” I confirmed, picking up the remote and changing the channel to the news station. “Just have to get through these next two months and then these stupid farewells are done.”

She nodded and we stared at the TV for a little while until Sydney emerged from the master bedroom.

“Next semester I am taking all late classes. This getting up with the sun stuff is for the chickens.” She poured her coffee into her mug and picked up her keys. “Let’s go.”

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to drive myself,” I said, grabbing my own keys.

“Why?” Sydney looked at me, confused. “What’s wrong?”

I rolled my eyes, and gave her a nudge with my shoulder. “Nothing is wrong. I’m just behind on my homework and I’m going to stay late today.”

Amanda frowned. “We can stay with you.”

I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s okay. I really could use very little distractions.”

Neither looked like they believed me, and I wasn’t surprised- I had always been a bad liar. But in the end they took off and I followed suit not too long after.

Chapter Eight

After my last class, I sat in the library working on what little homework I did have until it was time to go to the group.

I found a spot near the church to park and I turned off my car, but didn’t get out. I was nervous to reopen the wounds that seemed to have temporarily scabbed over that weekend. I stared at the church until the very last possible second and then I heaved myself out of the car. My feet felt like lead as I approached the door, and I took a deep breath as I opened it and stepped through.

I walked by a sign that read ‘Surviving Domestic and Sexual Abuse- a support group for women. Tuesdays @ 6:00 PM’ and in smaller writing below it listed the dates and times for the group for men, and a group for both genders.  I walked into the church gym and I was surprised at how many people were there. I was expecting it to be just a few, but I counted thirteen other women sitting in a semi-circle on auditorium chairs.

I took a seat between a girl who looked younger than me, and a woman who looked like she was in her mid to late forties. I glanced around at some of the other participants and a few, like me, looked nervous, but for the most part the women looked comfortable here. I took another peek at the younger girl next to me and I saw she had a brilliant black eye with a swollen top lip. She caught me staring and gave me a sad smile.

“Sometimes I wish he’d knock some sense into me so I’d stop going back.”

I didn’t return her smile, but I couldn’t look away. Instead, I reached over and grabbed her hand in mine. She stared at our joined hands for a moment and then gave me a real smile.

“I’m Bridget.”

I returned her smile. “Maddie.”

A woman cleared her throat and I squeezed Bridget’s hand before I dropped it so I could sit up straight.

At the open spot of the chairs a professional looking woman stood, her pale pink blouse tucked into her black slacks. She was glancing around the room giving a soft smile.

“Hello everyone. Most of you have done this before, but I just want to give a short introduction for those who are here for the first time.” Her eyes touched on me and a couple of other people.

“My name is Sarah, and I’m a professional counselor by trade, but I run these support groups for people who feel more comfortable in the group setting. I want you to know that everything you say here stays here. You don’t have to give your full name if you don’t want to, although we’d like at least something to go by. You don’t have to tell your story; you’re more than welcome to listen. However, sometimes telling your story is the best form of therapy. Just know that no matter what- you are not alone.”

She sat in the chair and pulled a notebook into her lap. “I will be taking notes, but these notes will be secure in between group sessions, and only used during that time. Please don’t feel apprehensive because of this. Who would like to start? Angela?”

A brunette who looked fairly comfortable sat to the right of Sarah, and she shrugged at her suggestion.

“Okay. Hi, I’m Angela. I’m 29-years-old, and three years ago I was slipped a roofie at my company Christmas party. I woke up the next day in a janitor’s closet with no recollection of my rape. They eventually caught him.” She cringed. “And it turned out to be a co-worker that I had called a friend. He is still in jail, but due to be released in the next year. “

Sarah nodded, her pencil scribbling in her notebook. “Are you worried about him being released?”

Angela made a non-committed shrug. “Yes, but no. I met my husband last year and he makes me feel safe.”

A girl sitting on the other side of the half-circle spoke up. “Was it hard to be with your husband sexually after what had happened?”

Angela thought about it for a moment. “A little, but not as hard as I thought it would be. I mean, I was unconscious for most of my attack so maybe that’s why it wasn’t so hard. But I also trust my husband entirely, and that made a huge difference.”

Several off the girls nodded and Sarah seemed satisfied.

We went down the circle, and most everyone told a story. There were several people in here that had physically abusive partners, but it seemed the sexual abuse outweighed the physical. Eventually we made it to the girl next to me, and she put on a fake smile.

“Hi, I’m Bridget. My husband and I have been married for a year now, and he first hit me about nine months ago. It used to be only when he had been drinking, but now it seems to happen all the time.”

Sarah stopped writing in her notebook and looked up at Bridget. “Bridget, can you tell the group why you stay?”

“Because I love him, and when he’s not hitting me he is the most amazing man ever.” She spoke as if the reason was obvious.

A couple of people murmured to each other, Sarah held up a finger and it immediately stopped.  “Do you think his love is worth the abuse he gives?”

Bridget didn’t answer for a moment, and her whole demanor changed.

“It used to be.” Her voice was small, the false confidence gone. “It really did.”

“Has your husband ever forced you to have sex with him?”

Bridget nodded, a tear falling from her bruised eye. “That’s why I have these,” she gestured to her beat up face. “I didn’t want to have sex last night because I’m ovulating, and he got really angry and lashed out. After he finished he cried and apologized, but…”

“His apologies are getting old.” Sarah finished for her. Bridget just nodded and looked at her feet.

“We have programs in place that can get you out of there, Bridget. You just say the word and we will make it happen. You can start fresh somewhere else. You just let me know when you’re ready, okay?”

Bridget just nodded again, still not meeting Sarah’s eyes.

“But Bridget,” Sarah said. She waited until Bridget looked up at her. “Don’t wait too long. I want to get you out alive, okay?”

“I know.” Bridget looked away, effectively ending her turn at sharing.

Sarah’s eyes settled on me, and she smiled. “Would you like to go?”

I thought about it for a split second, and I opened my mouth to tell her no when Bridget grabbed my hand again. I looked over at her and she was giving me a small, but encouraging smile.

I took a deep breath. “My name is Maddie. Almost two weeks ago I was sexually assaulted at a nightclub.”

Sarah wrote something in her notebook and looked at me. “Did he rape you?”

I bowed my head in acknowledgement, before looking back up. “Yeah, in the alley.”

“Have they caught your rapist?”

I shook my head. “Not yet, but they tell me not to give up.”

Sarah nodded again. “Most rapists will strike more than once, but hopefully they will catch him before it happens.”

I glanced down at my lap, playing with my thumbs and avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Maddie, do you feel responsible for your own attack?”

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. “I had too much to drink and my attempts to fight back were pathetic.”

“Maddie. ‘No’ is ‘no’ no matter how quietly you said it. If you even said ‘no’ once, you fought back more than enough.”

“It’s not just that. I was so far gone that even though I said ‘no’, I… I mean, my body…”

“You had an orgasm.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

I nodded, the shame made my face feel hot. Bridget tugged on my hand and I looked at her.

“Maddie, my husband repulses me during sex, and I still have an orgasm most of the time. Even when I try hard not to, I do. It can’t be helped.”

“Bridget’s right, Maddie,” Sarah said, nodding in agreement. “Our bodies respond to sex because biologically we are programmed for it. But that doesn’t mean anything, and it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of. It happens more often than you would think.”

Sarah smiled at me. “Thank you for sharing, Maddie.”

She moved on to the lady next to me, who had been raped almost ten years ago and had a 9-year-old child from the rape. It was obvious that she loved her child dearly, but she still struggled with the constant reminder. I leaned back in my chair as I listened to the rest of the ladies speak, grateful that my turn was over.

An hour later the group was dismissed and everyone began to clear out. I stood to leave and I heard Sarah say my name from the front.

“Yeah?”

She walked up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “Do you have a good support system?”

“I do. I really do.” I thought of how great everyone had been so far.

“Good. That’s the most important thing. I hope you come back again, but if you ever decide you want to try something a little less overwhelming you can call me.” She handed me her card and I let out a chuckle when I saw it. Sarah just looked at me, a curious expression on her face.

“Detective Bradley gave me this same card in the hospital.”

She beamed. “David is my little brother. We grew up in a bad situation ourselves, so we both decided to do something about it for other people. His way is fighting it at the source, mine is damage control.”

I looked at her and realized I did see quite the resemblance there. “You’re like a brother/sister superhero team.”

She laughed and gave me a wink. “I hope to see you again, Maddie. You can call anytime if you need to.”

When I got to my car I put the key in but didn’t start it. The group had helped- my chest felt lighter and it was morbidly nice to know I wasn’t alone. I pulled my phone out of my purse and text the girls to let them know I was on my way home.

I made heat of the moment decision and pulled up Josh’s name, hitting the button to call him.

He answered on the second ring, and sounded surprised.

“Madelyn?”

“Hey Josh. I’m sorry to bug you; I know it’s getting late.”

He let out a low chuckle. “8:30 is hardly late when we were texting at the crack of dawn this morning. “

I didn’t respond for a second as I let his deep voice wash over me. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t sleep well lately.”

He paused for a few beats. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be, that’s not why I said that.” I took a deep breath. “I went to that group tonight.”

“How was it?”

“Actually, it was surprisingly… good. Helpful, even. I just wanted to thank you for giving me the information.”

“Good. I’m really glad, Maddie.”

We were quiet for a moment, and I didn’t know what to say. Gone were the days of easy, flowing conversation and instead it had been replaced with awkward silences.

“I’ve missed you,” he said suddenly and softly.

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel. “I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Can I take you to dinner sometime, maybe explain some of it?”

“What about Elizabeth?”

He let out a frustrated noise. “Don’t worry about her, okay?”

I chewed on my lip for a few moments. The thought of spending time with Josh gave me excited butterflies, and I wanted so badly to agree. I didn’t think I could be just friends with him, not yet. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Josh.”

He exhaled audibly over the phone, and when he spoke again his voice sounded sad.

“I understand.”

“It’s just hard, seeing you with her. I’m sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. I really do understand.”

“Goodnight Josh.”

“Sleep well, Madelyn.”

I put my phone on the seat next to me, and it felt like a rock had taken place in the pit of my stomach. As much as I wantd to spend time with him, I had to do what I needed to protect my heart from breaking a second time.

BOOK: Scars of the Past
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