Secret Whispers (Heavenstone 2)

He drove to our room. When I started to get out, I felt her holding my arm, holding me back.

“Daddy would be very upset,” she whispered. “Very, very disappointed.”

I pulled my arm away and got out, slamming the door behind me. I saw her face pressed against the rear window. Ethan opened the motel-room door and stood back. I was still looking at the car.

“Is something wrong, Semantha? You can tell me.”

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“If you would rather we didn’t . . .”

“No, I’m fine, Ethan.”

I entered quickly, and he closed the door.

“I wish we had a more romantic setting,” he said as he put on the light and then closed the curtains, “but as long as I’m with you, any place is romantic.”

I can’t say I didn’t want to change my mind. That thought zigzagged in my brain, but I held it back. I had never been more attracted to any other man, but I was also curious about myself. Would I shut myself off completely? Would I welcome his caresses and kisses and return them as passionately? Was I capable of loving anyone anymore? Had Cassie destroyed all that in me forever and ever? Was that what Dr. Ryan had really meant when we’d concluded our last session and he had said “somewhat normal”?

Ethan stepped forward and kissed me. Then he brushed his hand through my hair and went to the bed to pull back the spread. I watched him do everything as if I had stepped out of my body and was observing. He undid his shirt, and then he unbuttoned mine, pausing to kiss me again. I stepped back and slipped out of my skirt. He smiled and undid his belt. We were both quickly naked. He kissed me again and lifted me into his arms to bring me to the bed.

“Semantha,” he said, “I don’t know if it’s really possible to fall in love with someone as quickly as I’ve fallen in love with you, but I’d argue forever that it is.”

“Yes,” I said. “It is. I know, because the same has happened to me.”

He kissed me and very gently began to caress me. Suddenly, a shocking train of images began to travel on the rails of my memory. Once again, I saw Porter Andrew Hall, the young man Cassie had brought to our house, hovering over me naked. I could hear him talking to someone, but his voice was distorted like a recording being played way too slowly. I turned to look to my right and saw Cassie standing there, smiling and nodding. “Yes,” I again heard her tell him. “Yes, do it now.”

For a long time afterward, I had wondered if it had all been a dream, a dream Cassie had said was more of a fantasy. When it had turned out not to be, she had claimed, as she was doing in my mind even today, that it had been something I had wanted very much. Yes, he had been very handsome and charming, but I hadn’t wanted that; I hadn’t fantasized about him the way she’d claimed I had. Later, of course, I found out I had been given what is called a date-rape drug.

“Stop him!” I was suddenly screaming. “Stop him, Cassie.”

“What?”

I opened my eyes to see Ethan holding himself above me. He looked down at me with confusion.

“What did you scream? Cassie? Wasn’t that your sister’s name?”

I shook my head and turned away.

“What’s wrong, Semantha?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “A memory . . .”

He sat back and gazed at me. “What memory?”

Cassie had once told me that no matter what the facts were, people would always blame me. If they didn’t believe it was something I really wanted deep inside me, they would accuse me of being too careless or too stupid. Somehow, it would end up being my fault, no matter what. I had used to think she was saying all of this so I would not reveal what she had done, but I had seen accusation on the faces of those who saw me pregnant afterward. Even if I were a victim, I was stained forever in their eyes.

I had successfully kept anyone at Collier from knowing what had happened to me, but it was foolish of me to believe I could hide it from someone who fell in love with me. Eventually, he would know, and my worst fear was that he would think he had been somehow deceived, tricked, and betrayed. What had become loving and wonderful would turn into something distasteful, and it would end badly.

I turned back to Ethan, took a deep breath, and said, “I was date-raped.”

“What?” He grimaced as if it had happened to him and not me. “When?”

“A little more than four years ago.”

I waited to see what he would say, but he just stared, waiting for more information.

“It happened in my house. My sister, Cassie, made it happen,” I quickly added. “She arranged for it all, planned it all, had me drugged.”