Violated (23 page)

“I understand.”

Derek sighed. “I hate this. I hate feeling so goddamned
breakable
.”

“It’s okay,” Russ said. Then he realized that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t really “okay” for Derek to feel like that. “I mean, I understand why you’d need time, after what happened to you.”

Derek lifted his bare feet up onto the couch and draped his forearms over his knees. He was in sweats again, and the view this presented to Russ of the bulge between his legs was tantalizing. “No offense, but you’re awfully accommodating for a cop.”

Russ wasn’t quite sure what to make of that comment. “What am I supposed to be? An asshole?”

“Not an asshole,” Derek said, smirking at him. “Just… I don’t know. Bossier.”

“Fuck you. I’m bossy as hell when I need to be.”

Derek laughed and kicked him lightly in the thigh.

Russ swatted his foot away, then said, “I don’t want to boss you around. I want to help you.”

“Why?”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Is that all you want this to be? Friends?”

There was something in his tone that put Russ on alert. It wasn’t exactly anxiety, but Derek was watching him closely, weighing the honesty in his answer. Because of that, Russ didn’t lie to him. “I’d like to be more than that someday.”

“Someday?”

“I know you just broke up with Tim, like, five minutes ago. And I swear I haven’t been waiting for a chance to swoop down on you the second you were single. I mean, I didn’t expect that to
ever
happen. I thought you’d marry him, be my next-door neighbor for a few years, probably sell the cabin eventually, and then I’d never see you again.”

“You weren’t attracted to me, then?”

Russ snorted. “I was
way
fucking attracted to you. But I don’t chase after married men.”

Derek still had one knee up, and the hand resting on it was fidgeting, the forefinger rubbing against the thumb. He was growing nervous again. “And now I’m single.”

“Derek… if you want to close the door on us ever being more than friends, you can do that right now. Or any time in the future. I know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I don’t want to do that,” Derek said carefully. “But you shouldn’t waste your time waiting around for me to get my act together. I don’t… I’m not sure if that’ll ever happen.”

“Derek, I really like you. And this?” He waved his hand between the two of them. “Sitting here talking, eating greasy Chinese food, drinking a beer or two…. This is so much better than anything I did with Ian or Brian, in bed or out of it. I love the fact that I don’t have to perform for you. I don’t have to entertain you—”

“You just have to treat me with kid gloves so I don’t flip out on you,” Derek interrupted, his expression dark.

“Dude. We’re having an open, honest discussion about what your boundaries are, what I want, and what you want. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Derek sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You’ve never been anything but nice to me. But because of something somebody else did, I can’t bring myself to trust you. That hardly seems fair.”

“What he did to you wasn’t fair,” Russ replied, struggling to keep his voice even. How could Derek think Russ’s need to make out or get laid was even remotely on the same scale as his need to feel safe again? “I don’t want you to worry about what’s fair to me, okay?”

“I like you, Russ. A lot. You’re a great guy, and you deserve to be with somebody who can hold you and make love to you—”

Russ held up a hand to quiet him. “Sorry. I think I got some dog hair clogging up my ear or something. That whole last sentence was just ‘blah, blah, blah.’ I didn’t hear anything after ‘I like you, Russ. A lot.’”

Derek stared at him for a long moment. Then a shy smile slowly crept across his face. “That’s okay. I didn’t really say anything after that.”

R
USS
STAYED
until a little past two. Derek was sorry to hear him say good night. Part of him desperately wanted Russ to stay. He imagined waking up at 4:00 a.m., as always, terrified, and what it would be like to have Russ there to comfort him. But would it really be comforting? He always felt disoriented and vulnerable at that time of the night. Tim’s presence had been such a familiar part of his life, even when they were fighting, that it hadn’t added to his fear. But having Russ beside him might be like waking to a stranger.

So he walked Russ to the door, said good night, and watched him walk away, hating himself for not being able to reach out and take what Russ was practically handing him on a platter. He’d been “way attracted” to Russ ever since they met. And now that he was being honest with himself, losing Tim was… sad, but not devastating. It had been a long time coming. If everything hadn’t gotten so fucked up, he’d be jumping at the chance to date Russ.

But everything
was
fucked up.

Closing the door, Derek thought to himself,
I used to be strong
. If somebody in high school started a fight with him, he’d always fought back. He didn’t understand why this was so different, but somehow it was. Somehow Victor had not only taken his
body
, but his strength. Curled up in a ball in the wee hours of the morning, he felt as if the entire world was lurking just outside the room, waiting to rip his body to pieces if he dared to move and reveal his hiding place.

But he had to do something. He had to rebuild himself somehow. Maybe he’d never be as self-confident as he’d been before, but anything would be better than this constant cowering. He could start by taking a single step to fight back against Victor, even if it was probably useless.

He’d file a police report.

“I
NEED
to file a report.”

The officer at the front desk had a blank expression on his face. He appeared to be neither excited about Derek filing a report, nor annoyed by it. He was just doing his job. Yet Derek couldn’t escape the feeling the man was viewing him with contempt, as if he knew exactly what Derek was there for, and it disgusted him.

You’re being ridiculous. You’re just reading into it. Calm down
.

Despite his determination on Tuesday night, it had taken him another week to work up the courage. Part of him desperately wished Russ were there, but he knew Russ had been right. Clinging to Russ or anyone else during this would just make him feel even more pathetic. Somehow, he had to get through this on his own. If he chickened out, he’d never be able to look at his face in the mirror again.

But he wasn’t sure how he’d avoid throwing up during the interview.

The officer took down some basic information, which wasn’t much, apart from Derek’s name and the nature of the report, which Derek simply described as a sexual assault. Then he asked Derek to have a seat while he located an officer who was available to take the report.

It was only a couple of minutes before a female officer came out into the waiting room. “Derek Sawyer? I’m Officer Chavez.” She extended her hand. “If you’d care to follow me, I’ll take you take you to a room where we can talk privately.”

The officer at the desk buzzed them inside, and then Officer Chavez led Derek through a door and down a long hallway. They passed other police officers along the way—mostly men—and even though they weren’t paying much attention to Derek and his escort, he still felt as if he were on display, as if at any moment they’d turn and look directly at him. And they’d
know
. They’d scent it on him like wild dogs—the fear, the blood and cum he could still feel leaking out of him—and they’d despise him for his weakness.

Officer Chavez admitted him into a small, carpeted room that contained a couch and a couple of stuffed armchairs grouped around a coffee table. There was a large mirror on one wall that Derek knew had to be one-way. At least, that’s the way it always was on TV cop shows.

The officer closed the door behind her and said, “Please take a seat.” Then she added, “You should know that Officer Thomas is my partner.”

“Who?” Derek asked, feeling stupid.

“Russ Thomas?”

“Oh! Russ!” Had he ever mentioned his last name?

“That’s him. He normally sits in on these interviews. But when the officer at the desk called down to us, Russ recognized your name. He said you were friends.”

“Yes.”

“In that case, you might be more comfortable if he sits this one out. Nothing you tell me will be passed along to him.”

“No,” Derek said hurriedly. “He can come in. That’s fine. I’ve already told him everything.”

Officer Chavez smiled at him. “If you’re sure.”

“Yes. I’d like him here.” It would be easier to tell this again if Russ were there.

“All right. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

When she returned with Russ in tow, Russ said, “Hey, Derek,” and shook his hand. It felt weird.
Dude, I was practically nuzzling your armpit three nights ago and now we’re shaking hands?
But of course Russ wouldn’t have told Officer Chavez
that
. It was the first time Derek had seen him in uniform, and that was weird too, but in a good way. Officer Russ Thomas was pretty damned hot.

Probably shouldn’t mention it to him—not after what he told me about Ian
.

They sat down with Derek on the couch and Officer Chavez in one of the armchairs. He was surprised when Russ went to sit in the other armchair, but changed his mind and sat on the other end of the couch. There was a fair amount of space between him and Derek, but he still felt close. Chavez glanced at him, perhaps not entirely approving, but Derek was glad to have him there.

Chavez smiled at Derek as she placed a small recorder on the coffee table. “Do you mind if I record this?”

“No.”

She switched it on. “This is Officer Chavez of the Manchester Police Department, taking the statement of Derek Sawyer on Tuesday, September 24th, 2013. Officer Russell Thomas is observing.” She leaned forward and addressed Derek directly. “I want you to be comfortable, Derek. If at any time you feel uncomfortable and would like to take a break or stop, please feel free to do so.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like a cup of coffee or a glass of water before we start?”

Russ had mentioned at one point yesterday that the coffee at the station was about the consistency of squid ink. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Then begin whenever you’re ready with your full name and date of birth.”

Derek took a deep breath and launched into his account, starting from the point where Victor came to the cabin to tell him about the trip, then skipping ahead to the night of the assault. Telling it to a stranger in this sterile, unfamiliar environment somehow made it all seem less real, as if he were recounting the plot of a movie he’d seen. He could see it all vividly in his mind; he remembered how it felt to have Victor lying on top of him, the smell of his breath, the feel of his bladder letting go…. But other feelings, things he’d thought he’d never forget, seemed strangely distant. He could no longer remember exactly how Victor’s cock had felt inside him. Not that he really wanted to, but it just seemed strange that that would be fuzzy now, when it seemed like the one thing he’d remember most clearly.

He wasn’t sure how long he talked. It seemed to go on forever. Unlike the way everything had spilled out, almost beyond his control, when he told Russ about it, now it just felt tedious and unpleasant. Part of it had to do with Officer Chavez’s gentle prodding for details. Russ hadn’t said a word—he’d simply listened. Chavez was being respectful, but after Derek had run through the whole nightmare once, she asked if they could go over it again. This time she wanted to know specifics—if Derek had noted the time at any point, exactly what position his body was in, where his arms and legs were, exactly how Victor had positioned himself, on and on. She asked him several times during the interview if he needed to stop or take a break. Eventually he found he did need a drink of water, so they took a short break while Russ fetched a cup for him.

Then Officer Chavez gently prodded him to keep going. He found himself describing the next morning, the flight back, the way he and Victor had interacted in the weeks following, and the argument in the parking lot that prompted Victor to file a complaint with HR.

By the time he’d finished, Derek was exhausted. He sat there, staring dully at the little bit of water left in his cup, too tired to raise it to his lips and drink the last of it. He felt as if Officer Chavez had wrung every minute detail out of his brain, leaving it twisted up like a wet towel with just an occasional, single drop of water oozing out to drip down into the puddle at his feet. He barely noticed when she clicked off the recorder.

“How are you feeling, Derek?” she asked.

He was slow to answer. “Okay.”

“Do you feel you need to talk to someone? Not a police officer, but someone who might be able to help you deal with some of what you’re feeling?”

A counselor? Derek wasn’t sure about that. It seemed so…
needy
. He just wanted to forget about what Victor had done to him, not tell everyone in the universe about it. Yes, he understood why reporting it to the police had some practical value, but that was done now, wasn’t it?

“No,” he said. He lifted his eyes to hers and asked, “What happens now?”

“Since this occurred in Florida, it’s technically out of our jurisdiction. We have to contact the police department in Tampa. We’ll give them your report, they’ll commence a sister investigation, and they’ll probably want to talk to you.”

Fuck
. “Will I have to go down there?”

“I don’t know. They might be able to talk to you over the phone, but it’s possible they might ask you to come into the Tampa station.”

“Great.”

“There’s one other thing I have to ask you. Do you feel safe in your current environment?”

Derek glanced at Russ, puzzled, then back at Chavez. “At the cabin? Why wouldn’t I?”