After one feverish night with Tyler Evans, Rory is never supposed to see the man draped in enigmas and devilish charms again.
Six months later, she's deep into a summer fling with Chace. As their fling becomes a committed relationship, she's adamant...
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I pull Rory into the women's restroom and sit her on the ottoman near the entrance. She's trembling, eyes wide and a million miles away, mumbling something about David. 'David was there.' He was trying to take her. Except, the bastard who grabbed her wasn't a guy named David. So, who the hell is he?
I grab a handful of paper towels from the nearest dispenser, fold them, and run them under cool water. While her head remains bowed, I kneel in front of her and take one of her bruised hands in mine. She flinches and yanks it away like I'm going to hurt her. Gentler, I grab her hand and reassure her, "I'm just going to clean them."
She hesitates for a moment but lets me, and says, "I'm sorry," in a raspy voice.
"Sorry?" I frown while cleaning off the blood on her knuckles. Her lack of broken skin tells me that none of it is hers, and it's all from that bastard's face. "For what?"
"Causing a scene like that. I didn't mean to- I didn't-"
"Stop." I give her a hard stare. "Seriously. Just don't even go there. That fucker was sexually harassing you. You had every right to defend yourself." I force out a soft chuckle and run my thumb over her red knuckles. "Chace wasn't kidding. You can hold your own."
She doesn't smile or even look at me. Terror still defines her posture. The Rory before me is broken down into bits of a girl I've never seen. What can I do to help her?
"I'm sorry," I say when our silence swells. "For leaving you."
"It's not your fault."
"Yeah, well, I should have known someone would give you shit about your clothes. I just wasn't thinking about it."
"It's okay. You just wanted us to have fun."
I laugh without humor. "So far, I've only given you bad experiences. Coming here was a terrible idea."
"It's not your fault I'm screwed up."
This makes me frown. The lack of emotion in her tone is disturbing, and her words make no sense. "What are you talking about? You're not screwed up. The way you reacted was normal." I go back to cleaning her knuckles, careful not to agitate her soft skin or cause her any more pain. "I should call Chace. We need to get you home."
"Wh-what?" Life returns to her voice, and she looks at me with genuine shock. "We-we can't leave. We just got here. I-"
"And since we've been here, you've been triggered and harassed. This obviously wasn't a good idea."
"No." Strength conquers her once trembling voice. She sits up straighter, but there's no hiding the slight shake in her hands. "I-I don't want to go home yet. I'm fine. It was an overreaction. I just need a moment to calm down."
The truth is clear in her eyes. She doesn't want Chace to see her like this. "Rory, you're literally shaking."
"Yeah, I'm high on cocaine, so everything is a little intense. Don't you have some event you're supposed to be competing in? We can't go home yet."
