I would still die for you.
I would still believe in you
I would still try to save you
I would still love you.
If you'd let me.

November 6, 2014

Josh is solidity and strength in the midst of chaos and fear. We cling to each other, he swallowing his rage and I abolishing my fear.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Rach."

I can't gather the words to answer him, to reassure him it's not his fault. Josh puts an arm around me and ushers me to a chair in the corner of the room. My skin is still covered in goosebumps from the paths of the man's hands across my body. I am shaking, trembling, trying to gather control. Desperation clings to me; I still feel trapped beneath the man's weight, stranded in his grasp, silenced by his hands.

He assaulted me. The truth slaps me across the face. I always imagined this happening to other girls, in other bars. Not to me. Rape has always been a distant evil, but now it is startlingly real. My skin burns cold everywhere he touched me, and I wonder if it will ever regain feeling. All I can feel is the imprint of hands on my body, groping, grasping, his hand squeezing my forearm, slapping me across the face, holding my mouth closed, traveling up my leg. I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes, trying to ward off the feel of the man's touch.

"Excuse me, were you involved in the fistfight in the back of the bar?" a domineering voice interrupts us, and Josh stands up in front of me in defense.

I look up to see four policemen; in the chaos, someone must have called the cops.

"Yes, uh, yeah, that was us," Josh says.

"Tell us what happened."

Josh sidesteps and gestures to me. "I'm Josh Hunter, and this is Rachel Evans. She was taking a phone call in the back hallway, and she'd been gone for awhile, so I went to check on her. I found that man," he gestures to my assailant, nursing his wounds across the bar from us, "assaulting her. He wouldn't let her go, so I punched him."

The lead cop raises an eyebrow. "Based on what I can see, you did a lot more than punch him. He has a few fractured ribs and a broken nose."

I can see Josh tense, but he says nothing. The lead cop steps past Josh to me and looks down at me, a pen poised over a notebook.

"Alright, Miss Evans, we need to get your statement." His voice is nonchalant as if this is no big deal, as if I'm not still in shock. "Tell us what happened."

"I..." I struggle to regain my voice, so I sit up straighter and let go of Jordan's hand. "I was on the phone, like Josh said, in that back hallway because it was too loud in here for me to hear anything. When my phone call ended, that man came out of nowhere and..." my voice breaks and I try to continue through returning tears, "and he pinned me to the wall and covered my mouth, and he...he touched me...and Josh found me. He wouldn't let go of me, so Josh punched him." My words are muffled by tears, and I fight to control my panic.

When I look back at the cop, he still appears skeptical, hand resting on his hip and eyebrow cocked. 

He turns to his partners, saying, "She's clearly hysterical and probably has no idea what really happened. It sounds like two drunks fighting over the same girl, classic case of disorderly conduct."

Jordan jumps in, her protective mother-bear instinct taking over. "What are you talking about? That pervert would have raped her if Josh hadn't rescued her, and you're writing that off as disorderly conduct? What kind of justice is that?"

"Now, now, miss, don't get emotional," the cop says again, raising his hands defensively. "First off, you should have known better than to go into the back hallway of a bar. What did you think would happen? You'd make a new friend?"

His jeering tone returns my ration to me, and I glare up at him. He's blaming me. He's blaming me for being assaulted.

He continues before we can say anything, "Speaking of which, were any of you kids drinking? How old are you, anyways?"

"None of us were drinking!" Jordan answers angrily.

His tone is laced with irascibility. "If you don't calm down, we'll take you all in for underage drinking and disorderly conduct, so I suggest you settle down."

My helplessness and desperation return. I may be free of the man's grasp, but I can't even stand up for myself. The man won't even be punished.

"Sir, I don't think that's--" one of the other cops, a smaller woman, interrupts.

"Santiago, I'm in charge here. We're talking in this Hunter kid for disorderly conduct. Let the other guy go, he's at least over 21. I don't want to hear another word about it," he barks gruffly.

"No!" I cry, jumping up as they slam Josh roughly against the table, locking his hands in manacles.

Josh looks at me pleadingly and implores, "Rach, it's fine. I'll call my dad and it'll be okay. You guys go home."

"No," I cry, "we're not going home. I swear."

A cop is taking him away before I can say anything else, and I watch helplessly as they drag him from the bar and into the back of a waiting police car. Jordan is chasing after the female cop, Santiago, asking if there's anything we do, and I fall back into my chair, resting my head in my hands.

This can't be happening. Josh is going to jail for defending me. My assailant is getting off Scot free. No.

Chloe sits next to me and gently touches my face, turning me to look at her. "Rachel, listen to me." Her voice is soft and assured, and I twist towards her, seeking any sort of comfort she can give. "We know you told the truth. We're going to get Josh out of jail, and we're going to go home, and everything is going to be okay. You're not going to let what that man did ruin you. You're going to be strong, stronger than you've ever been before. You're going to be strong for Josh, and you're going to be strong for yourself."

Her words fill me with renewed vigor. I wanted to remake myself, and this is a chance to not let my experiences define me. I'll choose to be the victor, not the victim. 

Eventually, we drive to the police station and await Josh's release. I'm sure Josh used his one call for his father, and I think of how deeply that will cost him. His father, demanding and cruel, will only use this as an opportunity to remind him of his failures. He won't understand that Josh is only in jail because of me. I can only pray he'll have pity.

Some time in the wee hours of the morning, the doors to the holding area open, and Josh exits. His face is pale and his bruised lip and black eye make him look as if he's been through a war. I run to him, grabbing his hand. They've removed the manacles, but his expression is less than relieved.

"Josh, what's going on?" I ask as we gather around him.

"Dad called." His voice is weary. "I'm out on bail."

Jordan lets out a small victory cheer, but I recognize the look of defeat on his face. "What's wrong?"

Josh hesitates, then meets my gaze. "He's coming."

My eyebrows shoot up. "Your dad? He's coming here?"

Josh's family is from northwestern Pennsylvania, a far cry from here. I can only imagine how enraged Mr. Hunter must be to journey all the way here.

Josh nods, his shoulders sunk in defeat. "You guys should go on. I'll drive my truck home once we've finished here. It's gonna be a long night."

"I'm staying," I say determinedly.

Jordan touches my shoulder. "Let's go home, Rach. It's been a long night, c'mon."

"No!" I growl fiercely, "I'm staying. You guys go; we'll be fine."

After more protestations, I eventually convince Jordan that I'm okay, or at least okay enough to stay with Josh. Once they depart, Josh and I are left alone facing one another. His face is bruised, eye blackened, and lip swollen. I ache with empathy for his somatic and emotional anguish.

"I'm so sorry, Josh," I whisper, reaching out to touch his face, fingers tracing the bruise around his eye and his bloodied lip.

He catches my hand and pulls it away from his face. His eyes hold me captive for a moment, pleading, apologetic, pained. I can read the request in his eyes.

I squeeze his hand and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

~~~~~

Just when you thought the action was over, surprise! Mr. Hunter puts in an appearance in the next chapter.

I love how fiercely loyal they are to each other. It's adorable.

Thanks for reading and for the 3k views! It means the world to me :)