Promiscuous (Tease 2)

Serving up the lasagna, I carried both dishes over to the table. Beth joined me with our drinks. She sat down and began eating. My appetite had disappeared the moment I saw that pamphlet.

"Not hungry?" Beth asked, covering her mouth.

"Not really," I muttered. I couldn't do this. I needed to know. She was going to be pissed eventually when she realized I knew. "Beth, I saw the brochure on sexual assault in your bag." Good one, Roman. Just blurt it out.

She froze, her expression one I could only describe as terror. Immediately, I regretted bringing it up. I should have waited until she told me. It was her choice whether or not she wanted me to know, and I'd just taken that from her.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," she cut in. "Don't do that. Don't feel sorry for me. I can't handle your pity." She dropped her fork and stood up, the legs of the chair dragging over the tiled floor. "I have to go."

"Beth, wait!" I took off after her, cutting her off at the front door. Pulling her into my arms, I held her as she fought me. "Let me help you. Please just don't push me away." Slowly, her movements became less and less, until she leaned against me, defeated.

She was crying. I walked her over to the sofa and sat her down next to me, cradling her in my arms. I didn’t press her to talk to me; I’d already pushed her too hard, too soon.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but don’t shut me out,” I murmured.

She didn’t say anything as she sat slumped over, staring off into nothing. Stroking her hair, I kissed her forehead. As strong as my desire was to help her, so help me God, if I found out who hurt her, his life would not be worth living. I’d make sure he paid for this.

“I was raped.”

My heart skipped. Turning to her, I waited for her to continue. It had taken her over an hour to utter those three little words.

She reached for my hand and held it tightly. “It happened a while ago. About a year. I didn’t know him, and I didn’t see his face. I thought I was over it…or at least dealing with it. But apparently I’m not.”

“Did you report it?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

She shook her head. “No. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Beth…” I stopped, unsure of what to say. I’m sorry you were raped? Nothing sounded like enough. There weren’t words to describe how I was feeling. I didn’t want to pity her, but I did. And the idea that some gutless asshole had gotten away with this made my blood boil.

I wanted to hunt him down and skin him alive.

“I’m sorry, Roman. There’s not much else to say. I don’t remember much of it. It happened, and I can’t change that.” She shrugged. This girl amazed me. What strength she had, dealing with an assault on her own, with little to no support. She hesitated, then turned to me. “Roman, I’m going to go. I think I just want to go home and sleep.”

I shook my head.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight. Sleep here. I’ll stay on the sofa. You can have my bed.”

“No—”

“This isn’t negotiable, Beth. Come with me.”

She took my hand.

I led her down the hall to my room. “If you want anything, please let me know.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around me. Her head rested on my chest as my hands stroked her head.

I kissed her softly. “Sleep well.”

Chapter Seventeen

Beth

My eyes fluttered open, the bright sunlight streaming through the partially closed curtains nearly blinding me. I sat up, realizing this wasn’t my room. I glanced down, relieved to find that I was dressed in my tank and panties.

Roman. Lying back down, everything from the previous night came back to me, from me freaking out, to explaining to him that I’d been raped. I cursed myself. Why had I told him? Now he had even more reason to treat me like a victim. At least he didn’t know how recent it had been. He had assumed it had happened a year ago, and I let him believe that.