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Dane(40)

By:Leddy Harper


She began to cry harder, her words practically incoherent. "I didn't  know what to do. Part of me thought she only said it was rape because  she didn't want to be in trouble, or maybe she was scared of you finding  out. Her being pregnant with his baby only meant they'd had sex … it  didn't necessarily mean it was against her will. I thought … I thought I  would've known if Todd was abusing her. I would've heard her cry for  help. I mean, she never said anything else about it after the first  time."

"Why do you think that is, Marie? You didn't do anything to fucking  protect her!" I no longer cared if the neighbors heard. I almost wanted  them to hear, to know what a piece of shit they had living next to them.

"I thought if I said something to Peter, he would figure it out. But all  he did was tell me to have the pregnancy terminated. So I did. He said  he'd deal with Todd. I didn't know what he was going to do, but he  talked to him and said he took care of it. Things were fine for a few  weeks so again, I thought it was all a lie. It wasn't until … " She  trailed off and buried her face in her hands, wailing and sobbing  uncontrollably.

I had no patience by that point. My voice couldn't be calmed and my  anger couldn't have been tamed. I felt like a madman on the loose. My  hands shook by my sides as I tried to keep from throttling her. I hated  her. I hated what she did to Gabi, what she did to the innocent man who  went to jail, and ultimately, what she did to me-she'd robbed every one  of us of a normal life. She was a fucking monster, and I suddenly  realized why Gabi had stayed away for so long. I only wished Gabi had  come to me with the truth. None of what had happened over the last ten  years would have taken place had I known.

"Until what, Marie. Spit it the fuck out already!"

People began to come out of their homes, standing in their yards and staring at the two of us in her driveway.

"The night when she was taken to the hospital," she finally finished her  sentence. "He … Todd … he um, was extremely angry over the whole thing. He  was pissed that his dad found out, and even more irate that Gabriella  got pregnant. He was on something that night-not really sure what. We  were in bed when he came home and then I was awoken by the screams. I  didn't get there in time. He was already gone by the time she started  screaming.         

     



 

"I found her in the bathroom on the floor. There was a lot of  blood … everywhere." Her voice grew really quiet and I had to get closer  to hear her. I needed to make sure I didn't misunderstand anything. "He  made sure she couldn't get pregnant that time. Oh God, Dane. There was  blood everywhere. And she was just curled up on the floor with it  smeared all over the backs of her legs and … ." Her sobs filled every  painstaking word. "Peter was there. I begged him to call the paramedics  while I sat with her. But when he did, he told the cops it was the  neighbor. It wasn't me or Gabriella that did that. It was Peter. And we  had to go along with it."

"No you didn't." I wanted to yell. I wanted to scream. But I couldn't.  My chest was so tight I couldn't get a deep enough breath to even raise  my voice above a throaty growl. "You didn't have to go along with him.  You could've come forward with the truth. You could have shown Gabi how  to stand up for herself. You didn't have to ruin a young man's life. And  in the end, you've ruined your daughter's life. She's lived with this  for years. You were too damn scared to be homeless, and in the end, the  bastard gave everything to his son anyway. In the end, you ended up  alone without a roof over your head regardless of what you did or didn't  do. You sold your own flesh and blood out for nothing. Fucking.  Nothing!"

"I know. Don't you think I know what I've done? Don't you think I'm  paying for it and that I regret it every single day? My daughter has  battled depression ever since then, and even tried to take her own life.  That's probably why she's at the hospital now. Don't you think I feel  that blame? I feel it every day of my life."

Suddenly, my own guilt set in. Gabi had begged for me to give her a  chance to explain, but I didn't let her. I walked away without ever  asking her why she lied. If I had taken one second over the last eleven  years to even think about the first time we had sex, I probably would  have known. I would have been able to at least guess that she wasn't a  virgin when she said she was. There was no blood and she wasn't overly  tight. She was incredibly nervous, as was I, but I just assumed that was  because it was her virginity. But it wasn't. She hadn't been a virgin  when we first had sex. She'd been repeatedly raped for a year by that  point, and I had no clue. I didn't see it in her eyes when we were  intimate, but thinking back on those early days, it became clear. The  fear in her eyes was the same both before and after the incident. The  shakiness that I assumed was nerves were the same before and after. I  was the blind one. I'd let her down, and I continued to let her down.  All those years I thought I was the one protecting her … I wasn't. I was  never able to protect her the way she needed someone to.

But I would.

I would make sure she knew someone was looking out for her.

"Go to the hospital," I told Marie, leaving no room for questioning.  "She needs someone there. Go there and make sure she gets all the help  she needs. Now and when she's discharged. She probably doesn't want to  see you-and I don't blame her, because I never want to see your face  again, either. So sit in the waiting room, don't let her know you're  there, do whatever you have to, but make sure she gets help. You both  need it."

I turned around and walked away, leaving Marie and her fucked-up life  behind me while I went to take care of something that should have been  dealt with twelve years ago.





17





Nothing looked the same as I made my way down Gabi's old street. I'd  been to the house plenty of times when we were in high school, when I  used to pick her up for dates or to hang out. She never allowed me to  come inside, though. At the time, I had brushed it off and assumed she  was embarrassed about it since my house was so much bigger. It never  bothered me, and I never thought twice about it until now. Until I found  myself driving down the same street with the knowledge of what truly  happened under that roof. It did nothing but fill me with more rage.

Before I even made it to the driveway, I saw him outside. He was working  under the hood of a car. I came to an abrupt stop and parked on the  side of the road before finding myself running in his direction. He  never heard me coming up on him. My knuckles slammed against the back of  his skull and I could literally hear his forehead bounce off the engine  with a sickening thud.

He grabbed the front of the car and cursed before righting himself and  facing me. He took a look at me and then cocked his arm to swing.  Instead of hitting me, he stumbled, off balance from hitting his head.  Blood gushed down his face, impeding his vision, but I didn't show him  any sympathy, nor did I give him time to get his bearings straight  before my fist connected with his jaw, knocking him into the car. I  didn't stop there. When he fell to the driveway, I continued to land  punch after punch to his face.         

     



 

I felt a pop and heard cracks as my fist met his nose. Blood flowed, and  I couldn't tell if it came from his mouth or from his obviously broken  nose. "You motherfucker!" I shouted at him as I continued to assault  him. "Fucking rapist. You get off by touching little girls, you  asshole?" The only thing that saved him from being sent straight to hell  right then and there were the men that came running to his aid.

They yanked me off him, but it wasn't easy. I didn't relent without a  struggle. There were two of them, and they were rather scrawny. I  elbowed one in the face to get him off me, and he went down immediately.  The other hightailed it as I stared him down. I'm sure I looked like a  crazed lunatic.

As soon as they were gone, I went back to Todd. I stood there and  watched as he gagged and coughed on his own blood. After the slight  satisfaction, I dragged him up by the front of his shirt and slammed him  against the engine, leaning over him. He could barely open one of his  eyes, but I made sure he heard every word I spat at him.

"You're a fucking piece of shit. You don't deserve to live after what you did to her."

"You can't prove anything," he muttered between his gasps for air.

I grabbed his face, digging my fingers and thumb into his cheeks, and  got close to his ear so he would hear everything I had to say. "When I'm  finished with you, you'll be begging the law to take you away. You'll  be praying they lock you up." I searched the ground and noticed the  metal pipe for his hydraulic carjack laying on the cement. I let him go  long enough to pick it up.