Her emotions had been all over the place as she dressed for the senior prom. She was looking forward to wearing the pretty dress that her grandfather had given her the money to buy, but she was less than thrilled with her date. She had gone out with him several times, mainly to take her mind off Mac, but she wasn’t really interested in him. He was handsy and determined, and those hands were always trying to get under her clothes. Sometimes it seemed as if he had way more than two hands. As soon as this evening was over, she planned to tell him they were through. He was simply a means to a social end tonight.
Later, she would come to know him as the animal who stripped away her innocence and left her lying in a bed of dried leaves in the woods, a mile from her house. It would take her what would seem like hours to walk, stumble, and finally crawl toward the lights of a house in the distance. Mac’s house. She had lain bruised, cut, and bleeding on his doorstep, unable to summon the strength to reach the doorbell. The beautiful iridescent gown that she had twirled in earlier on the dance floor was tattered. The delicate material had been ravaged by first her date, then by the weeds and briars as she crawled through the dark forest.
She had no idea how long she had lain there, staring into the starry night as if in a trance, when the door suddenly opened. The bright light in the room beyond made her blink in surprise. She was no longer even certain where she was.
A foot connected with her bruised leg, causing her to cry out in pain. “What the hell?” she heard as she tried to struggle into a sitting position. Suddenly, strong hands were on her shoulders. She was breathing hard, terrified that he’d come back. She twisted away frantically, terrified of what would happen next. “Ava? Honey, is that you?”
She stopped suddenly, causing the hands holding her to slide. She knew that voice. He’d never hurt her. Even as her body screamed in protest, she climbed onto the man’s lap squatting next to her and held on with everything she had. She was shaking so hard she could barely keep her arms looped around his neck. “Mac . . . please help me,” she remembered whispering frantically.
He stood in one swift movement and swung her up higher in his arms. Without saying a word, he walked back into the house with her, kicking the door shut behind them. When they reached what she thought was the living room, he sat down with her still in his lap. Soft light flooded the room as he used one arm to flip on the lamp on the table beside them. “Honey, what happened?” He tried to move her, but she continued to hold him tight, afraid of what would happen if he let go. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of reassurance against her head, until the shudders subsided. When he moved her back again, she let him put just enough distance between them to see his face. She heard his quick intake of breath, then a barrage of profanity. She started crying then, not able to handle him being angry on top of everything else that had happened.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me, Mac.”
A harsh laugh tore from his throat. “Honey, I’m not mad at you. But I need you to tell me what happened. Were you in an accident?”
She wanted to say yes and just forget the rest, but she had never lied to Mac. He was the one person in her life whom she trusted without reservation, even more so than her brothers. She didn’t know what to do or where to turn . . . and she hurt so bad . . . everywhere. “No . . . he . . . hurt me.”
His eyes never wavered from hers as he asked, “He hurt you how?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she revealed the truth to him. “He forced himself on me, Mac. He held me down, and he . . . raped me.” She saw the exact moment that her words sank in. His face blanched an alarming shade of white before turning a dark red.
That was the night that they both had shattered. Mac would spend years trying to put her back together again, and she would spend years trying to convince everyone, including herself, that she was okay. And the bastard who raped her . . . his only punishment ended up being to leave South Carolina and agree never to contact her again. That sentence would be decided by her grandfather, who had never liked having the family’s dirty laundry aired in public. Always better to handle things privately.