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She nods, her throat bobbing as a single tear rolls down her face. “I was in high school, so young and stupid,” she begins, pulling out of my hold and casting her eyes down. Sighing, she reaches out to trace the rim of the glass with her finger. “He was a thirty-something-year-old man. It never dawned on me he could be thinking of me in a sexual manner. He seemed kind and was well revered by everyone who knew him. So, when he took an interest in me under the pretense that he wanted to help me with my writing, I didn’t think anything of it. I was so thrilled by his attention and never saw what was coming until it was too late.” She releases a long breath, as if relieved to say the words out loud, while my lungs have stopped working altogether. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”
My mind reels from her confession. Though I may finally have an explanation as to why Lori has such an aversion to dating—why she has such a hard time trusting men—there was still so much left unanswered. I want to know who this man is and how to find him. But more importantly, I want to ask her why she had chosen to tell me. Why now? Instead, I sit silent and frozen, thankful she’s not looking at me.
“He got away with what he did to me because I felt ashamed. The same way Jim got away with what he did to Julianna. Now, this poor woman is being crucified while Jim’s being portrayed in the media as some sort of victim. It’s total bullshit. I can’t sit back and do nothing knowing the truth.”
When her eyes finally meet mine again, they’re wet with tears, and I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms, but I stay rooted, trying to figure out the right things to say.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, and I can certainly understand why you’ve been drawn to Ashland’s story, but it’s not your responsibility to make things right. You know people won’t only attack your sister. They’ll attack you for telling her story. It won’t be hard to figure out she’s your sister and—”
“Stop trying to protect me. I’m already well acquainted with the ugliness of the world. Try to understand I need to do this. I need to help make sure that bastard is accountable for his sins. Not only for Julianna’s sake, but for myself and any other woman out there who feels like they don’t have a voice.”
Her tears begin to fall freely, and I come to my feet. Giving into my desire to hold her, I wrap my arms around her, my chest swelling with warmth when she returns my embrace. I allow us both a moment to enjoy each other’s comforts before kissing the top of her head and leaning back to meet her gaze.
“I’ll stop trying to safeguard you all the time, and support you any way I can,” I vow.
17
Lori
The large, dreary room feels cold, figuratively and literally. The first day of summer is approaching, though Mother Nature doesn’t seem to know it. Normally by this time of year, we would be seeing temperatures in the nineties, but it’s a cool seventy-six degrees right now. In here, it feels more like forty-six. With this being a government building, I’m guessing it’s run on an automatic heating and cooling system, which doesn’t account for the chilly nights we’ve been having.
It’s a very depressing space. No plants, no sunlight. Only old, dirty government issued furniture, gray walls with those hideous rubber bases, and hospital tile floors. This is a mental health facility. They should want their patients to feel comfortable—peaceful.
My head shoots up when I hear the heavy metal doors open, and two women step through. One is Ashland Martin—the reason I’m here today. Her head is down, her greasy auburn hair hanging forward as she shuffles her feet toward me. The other woman is an employee, and I’m happy to see they were at least smart enough not to put a man in charge of Ashland. From the things I’ve already heard about her story, that would be cruel.
Ashland meets my gaze as she takes the seat across from me, her mahogany eyes sunken in and shoulders slumped.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today, Ashland.”
She shrugs as her eyes roam around the room, as if to say she had nothing better to do. When she agreed to do an interview with me, I wasn’t sure what to expect. If you believe the media, I’m sitting in front of a stone-cold killer. But that isn’t the vibe I’m getting from her at all. She has black circles under her eyes, her body much thinner than it had been in all the photos from the news coverage. If she truly were a psychopath, killing Jim wouldn’t keep her from eating or sleeping.
Then again, it could be because she’s locked up in this god-awful place. The prosecution didn’t want to go to trial. I’m betting they were worried they didn’t have enough to convict Ashland for Jim’s murder. So, her lawyers were able to work out a plea bargain that landed her in the looney bin instead of prison in exchange for her confession. I’m not so certain she’s better off here, though.
“Can I ask why you chose to let me interview you? I’m sure you must have gotten hundreds of requests.”
“Your sister,” Ashland answers.
My forehead creases. “My sister?”
When I told Julianna I was interested in writing Ashland’s story, I was worried she wouldn’t support it—that she’d feel like I was trying to cash in on something tragic that happened to her. But she’s been so supportive and helpful.
“She wrote me a letter telling me what Jim did to her, apologizing for not saying something. She told me you wanted to write my story to get the truth out there. Everyone else is looking for the gory details.”
I nod my head. “That’s all I want, to reveal the truth about Jim. I think we can change the narrative of the story.”
She sucks in a long breath before blowing it back out. “You might want to hear my story before you get too excited. Even when people know the full story, it’ll be subject to interpretation. They’ve never seen a story like mine on Law and Order, and likely never will. I don’t fit into any of their preconceived notions of what classifies someone as a victim of sexual assault.”
“That’s even more of a reason why this story is so important. Just because it hasn’t been told before doesn’t mean there aren’t women out there like you.”
“All right. Where should we begin?”
“The beginning is usually the best place to start.”
I pull out my pad of paper, pens, and tape recorder. By the time I’m all set up, Ashland is visibly tense, her body stiff, her lip tucked between her teeth.
“Okay…” She lets out a heavy breath, her eyes glossing over as they bounce around the room. When they land on me again, a heaviness settles on my chest, and I find myself wishing I’d brought some Kleenex. “I met Jim right after he started dating my sister…”
* * *
