But I didn’t need a dead body on my consciousness either. I turned to Justin. “He needs a doctor; he might have some major damage. Look at him; he's barely breathing."
"Good," Justin said, his hands pulling at his hair. His eyes were still crazed. “It’ll be a great lesson on how not to try something with a woman when she doesn’t want it.”
“What?” I asked. I’d known Mark since we were in diapers. I knew he was doing some weed here and there, and by ‘doing,' I mean 'selling,' but he'd never force himself on a woman. I'd seen this guy during the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. He's a protector to his core. I couldn’t imaginethatguy trying to force somebody.
“This piece of shit tried to rape Ashley.” He spat out.
“What?” I cried out. I didn’t want to come off like an asshole who blames the victim, butc’mon. We all knew Ashley was sleeping around while dating Justin, which only got worse when he was shipped overseas. She’d been known for telling lies of epic proportions, using her status to make other women of Little Hope look bad. And when I say epic, I meanepic: blaming people for stealing her stuff at the parties and getting them fired from their jobs, and spreading rumors that me and my fellow trailer people were selling heavy drugs (so heavy, in fact, that we didn't even know such drugs existed), and that's just the tip of the iceberg when it came to Ashley. Everyone knew to stay away from her unless you wanted to be bullied for months. “Where’s she?”
“Crying in the car.” He spits out as he gestured toward his truck. I look, and finally notice a person in the front seat. Sure thing, Ashley was there, smeared mascara all over her face. She was smiling, a bloodthirsty look on her face, enjoying the show. I knew for sure she made the shit up. I narrowed my eyes at her as we made eye contact, and she licked her lips and winked at me. Freakin’winked!
“The way she’s smiling doesn’t make her look like a victim to me.” I returned my attention back to Justin.
Justin’s face changed instantly. His nostrils flared. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from trailer trash. Accusing a victim instead of an actual assaulter.”
“What?” A wave of nausea rose up my throat.
He turned to Mark once more. “Don’t ever come near her again.” He snarled before he strode out.
After five minutes of grunting and panting, I managed to drag Mark up and help him to his feet. How we were going to make a three-mile walk to the trailer park with just me basically carrying him—I had no idea. I looked over at his Challenger: he had had that car forever, so I knew it was a stick, and I couldn’t drive stick. Not unless he wanted it in a ditch. So, walk it was.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved.” Mark croaked while I struggled to get him standing. We kept having to stop as he was doubling over and spitting blood on the asphalt. How much did he weigh? Two hundred pounds or so versus my one thirty soaking wet? Yeah, it was a fun time for me.
"Of course, you're welcome for saving your ass, asshole!" I gripped him tighter, even though all I wanted to do was throw him to the ground and land a few punches of my own. Why was nobody just grateful nowadays? Though, to be honest, I was the one who owed Mark for all those times he protected me when I was a kid.
“Thank you, Kayla. I mean it,” he said, groaning in pain. “But he’s a mean son of a bitch, and it might come back to bite you.”
“I didn’t do anything, Mark. What would he come back at me for?” He didn’t respond, and we walked slash-wobbled in silence for a few minutes. It was then I decided to ask the question that had been eating at me. Mark is a huge guy who grew up in an undeniably rough area, he could have thrown a mighty punch or two before getting smashed into the asphalt, but Justin’s face was squeaky clean. “Why didn’t you fight back?”
He was quiet for so long that I lost hope he’d respond, but then he said, “I deserved it.”
I jumped from him, and he went down like a sack of potatoes. “What the fuck, Mark? Did you seriously rape her?”
“What? No!” He reared back, trying to pull himself back together. He looked like he was on the verge of death.
“Then what do you mean then?”
“I slept with his girlfriend while the dude was in the military, for fuck’s sake. He deserved to throw a punch or two.” Mark managed to pull himself up enough to sit on his butt, his hands rested on his bent knees. Did Justin seriously think he could do something that bad to a woman?
I shook my head and muttered a quiet“idiot”before I helped him up once again.
Thankfully, luck was on our side. After thirty minutes of plodding along, struggling to keep his enormous form propped up, one of Mark’s friends drove by and stopped to give us a lift. He asked what happened, but I kept my mouth shut, and Mark did too. Whatever beef they had with Justin—it was between them. From what I’d heard of Mark, he wouldn’t get anyone involved. He always wanted to resolve things himself. People on the poor side of town have honor, too, you know.
As we got closer to the trailer park, Mark's friend asked if I needed a ride to my place. I declined his offer, but I could see the hesitation on his face, clearly not wanting to leave me in the middle of the road at night. Mark tried to convince me not to walk alone, telling me I should at least stay with him until the morning, but I let him know that I had my fair share of adventure for one night. After a long argument, they let me go. I appreciated how worried they were for me, I did. But I valued my seclusion, and I didn't want anyone to know where I lived. It would ruin my peace.
By the time I got to the diner the next day, everybody knew that Justin had gotten arrested that night for assault. Someone had called the police on him, and that someone wasn’t me. I’ve been known to be on the other side of the phone call, though, as people see an out-of-place girl and think they're up to no good.
Mark didn’t press charges (no surprise here), so Justin was let go. But that’s when things went from bad to worse for him. Apparently, Justin got in a fight with the cop who arrested him. Considering what I know now, I feel like Justin thought all parties involved that night were to blame for his sister's assault. In his mind, Mark, me, and the cop who arrested him were the roadblocks preventing him from getting to Alicia on time and, therefore, the reason it happened.
That fight with the cop got him thrown into prison for three years. When he got out, I became enemy number one, even though I didn’t have a clue why. I should have suspected something was extremely wrong when Jake started harassing me every chance he got following that night, long before he had begun working for the police. He was attending a law school in Massachusetts, and every time he was home for break, he found a way to get to me. He was so much younger, and I thought he was just fooling around. It would pass eventually, I kept telling myself. But then he became the local cop. Over time, locals started treating me like even stinker shit than before. Jake liked to run his big mouth, which, paired with his good looks and natural charm, allowed him to easily convince everyone that I was an evil being set on destroying the good people of Little Hope. The rumors continued over time, and I still deal with them to this day. One of thenewrumors about me being a whore started with him, I’m sure.
Only regulars at Marina’s diner still saw me as a human being. They talked to me like I was a normal person with normal problems and a normal family waiting at home. I had none of that. Still don’t. Even my problems suck.
ChapterFifteen
KAYLA
Marina’s already in full cooking mode by the time I arrive the next morning. After my evening of revelations with Justin and exactly zero sleep, I feel like the walking dead. I know better than to interrupt her during her witching hour, so I go to start coffee instead. I half expect Justin to show up, but he doesn’t. There’s no sight of him throughout the whole day. And the day after. At the end of day two, I successfully avoid Freya’s phone calls. When she texted me to ask what was wrong, I just let her know we've been swamped at the diner. In reality, it wasn't a lie. It seemed to work, and she let the subject drop. I knew she was just being nice, though. She knew something was wrong.
