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“I finally managed to shove him off me and called for Heather. He wasn’t very happy about that. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up. And then he grabbed my boob, and he squeezed it as hard as he could.”
My eyes move down to her chest. Her tank top isn’t super low cut, but I can see the hint of finger shaped bruises starting to form.
“I knew if I didn’t get out of there, he was going to do it. He was going to rape me and there wasn’t a damn person around that would stop him. He started telling me that he knows I’ve always secretly wanted him, and that trying to tell him I don’t makes me a tease. He didn’t care that I was crying at this point, or that I was constantly trying to fight him off. There was no talking sense into him. So, I did the only thing I could.
“I reached back and grabbed the lamp behind me, and I slammed it as hard as I could into his head. I don’t know if it cut him. There was no sticking around to find out. I could just hear him shouting and calling me a bitch as I ran as fast as I could out of the house.”
It’s definitely a relief that he didn’t manage to get any further, but that doesn’t mean she’s not broken. Sexual assault doesn’t have to be rape for it to cause trauma.
“The second I got outside, I threw up. But I had no way to leave. I’d been drinking, and I was way too emotional to drive, so I called Cam. He was right down the street and said he would be there in a second. I was so fucking relieved when he pulled up, but when he saw me, his eyes went dark. That’s when I realized how disheveled I looked. My tank top was pulled down on one side, and I was crying.
“He asked me what happened, and I wasn’t going to tell him. I said that I just wanted to go home. But then Isaac stumbled out of the house and took one look at both of us and laughed. He mumbled something about us being a match made in hell and that Cam should be careful because I’m scrappy. And that’s when Cam followed him back into the house.”
From what I’ve heard so far, there’s not a single part of me that is mad at my brother. He did what any half-decent guy would. And even if there are consequences from it, I wouldn’t expect even a hint of an apology out of him.
“Mali,” I say as she cries. “I need a yes or no answer here, okay? Is Isaac still alive?”
She stares back at me, absolutely terrified. “I don’t know.”
And that’s when the flood gates open.
Every part of her that was trying to stay strong, shatters in that moment. She falls forward, hitting the ground and crumbling into my lap as she cries. I have no choice but to watch helplessly as she scratches at her skin in an attempt to scrub herself of his touch.
I don’t even notice Cam has moved until he’s by my side and on his knees—the air pods long forgotten on the bed. He looks just as powerless as I feel as his hands hover over her. He doesn’t want to touch her, in case she doesn’t want that, but he needs to do something.
“Cam.” Hayes gets his attention. “Did you kill him?”
My brother looks over at me and then back to his best friend. “No.”
Hayes and I exhale in unison. So, we’re not looking at murder charges here. If Isaac presses charges, Cam is looking at jail time—for both the original assaultandthis one. But at least he’s not potentially facing spending the rest of his life behind bars.
His gaze lands on Mali, and I swear I see a part of him break. “But I should have.”
MALI FINALLY MANAGES TOfall asleep in my bed. I helped her take a shower and gave her pajamas to wear, ones that are light enough not to hurt after she scrubbed her skin raw. She’s definitely not okay, but how could she be?
I drape a blanket over her and turn around to see Hayes leaning in my doorway. He was responsible for keeping an eye on Cam while I took care of Mali. I needed him to find out exactly what happened when Cam went in that house.
“She okay?” he asks.
Glancing back at my best friend, I can feel her sadness like it’s my own. “No, but I’m hoping she will be. In time.” I force my eyes away from her and run my fingers through my hair. “How’s Cam?”
“Homicidal,” he answers, and I know it’s not even an exaggeration. “He said that he was unconscious when he left and beaten pretty badly, but they got out of there before the cops came. Apparently, no one at the party even tried to keep Cam from killing him. He probably would have if Mali hadn’t come in and begged him to stop.”
The weight of everything rests on my chest as I exhale. “Does it make me fucked up that I wish she hadn’t?”
“No. I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Hayes must be able to see when I need him because not even a single tear falls before he’s pulling me into his arms. Mali is the greatest person I know. My absolute best friend. And as I watched her break down, she took a part of me with her.
My head rests against Hayes’s chest as I cry, and he just lets me—pressing light kisses into my hair and rubbing his hand up and down my back. He knows I just need to get it out. That there’s nothing we can do to help the closest people to us, and that sucks.
I force myself to calm down and pull away from him to dry my face. “Thanks.”
He smiles sadly, leaning forward and kissing my forehead. “You staying in here?”
I nod. “Yeah. She needs me, and I think right now, I need her, too.”
“Hey, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I get it,” he tells me. “I’ll be in Cam’s room. Wake me up if you need me.”
