Damaged: A Violated Trust (Secrets) (18 page)

“One more thing.”

I look up. “What?”

“Let’s run by your house and pick up that evidence. Okay?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

Then I’m dismissed to wait with the other detective while the two women go over a few more things.

“Are you okay?” Detective Harbick asks in a gentle tone.

“I guess.” I look at the clock to see that it’s almost time for lunch. “Uh, Detective Dorman said you guys are going to take me home to get some, uh, evidence.”

“Okay.”

I point to the clock. “Is there any chance we could get out of here before the other kids are on their way to lunch? I really don’t want to be seen going out with … well, you know.”

“Sure.” He ducks his head into the office and explains that he and I will wait in the car. Then we quickly hurry out and I hope that if anyone does see me, they’ll assume he’s my dad.

Hopefully my dad will be as understanding as this cop.

...[CHAPTER 16].................

I
’m not sure if I’m relieved or not when I discover that my wad of clothes is still under the sink, but I hand it over to Detective Dorman and she slips it into a bag.

“I have a question,” I say timidly as I walk her to the door.

“Yes?”

“What if I don’t want to press charges against Harris?”

She puts a hand on my shoulder. “I know this is hard to hear, but it’s out of your hands. Because you’re a minor, it’s up to the district attorney to prosecute, not you. Even if you refused to cooperate with us, we would still pursue this. But, trust me, it will be easier if you continue to cooperate … like you did today.”

I bite my lip and wish this would all just go away.

“I know this is difficult. I do understand. But what you need to understand is that by doing this, you might be sparing another girl. Maybe more than one girl, because if a guy gets away with this once, he might think he can do it again … and again. Wouldn’t you feel terrible if you said nothing and years later learned that Harris Stephens was a serial rapist? Or perhaps worse?”

I consider this. “Yes. You’re right, I would.”

“So hang in there.” She makes a half smile. “And tell your dad what happened.”

“I … I’ll try.”

“Because he will find out. It’s just a matter of how and when.”

……….

I decide to tell Dad first thing when I see him, but as usual, he goes out with Estelle on Friday night and comes home late. Then when I get up on Saturday morning, it feels like he’s going to sleep in forever. Should I even bother? Really, what does he care?

When he finally gets up, it seems like he’s in a bad mood. Not grumpy bad, just very quiet. It almost feels like he’s avoiding me, or maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to anyone, or maybe he has a hangover, although I hope that’s not the reason. But what if it
is
me? What if the police called him and told him the whole thing? Suddenly I’m worried. Does Dad already know?

“Want some coffee?” I recently started both making and drinking coffee. My mother would hate this, but for some reason I find caffeine to be calming.

“Thanks,” he mutters as he shuffles into the kitchen.

I fill a mug and hand it to him. Even though I’ve already had my coffee, I pour another cup and sit at the breakfast bar, watching as he forages the fridge for food.

“Is everything okay?” I ask tentatively as he puts slices of bread in the toaster.

He shrugs.

Now I feel really nervous. He must know. Why else is he acting like this? I watch as he butters his toast, then liberally smears it with peanut butter and jelly (his version of a quick, healthy breakfast).

“I guess I should just tell you.” He sits across from me.

“Tell me?” My stomach sinks.

He nods.

I wait, holding my breath.

“Estelle and I broke up.”

“Oh?” I feel a shiver of relief.

He takes a large bite, noisily chewing.

“I … I’m sorry, Dad. Are you feeling pretty bad about it?”

“A little. But I’m the one who broke it off.”

“
You
broke it off?”

He lets out a sad sigh. “I have to admit Estelle was a nice distraction for a while, when I was lonely and needed something. And she was definitely fun. But I really wasn’t in love with her. It seemed like the relationship was going nowhere. And she always expected more than I could give.” He sighs. “It was time to call it quits.”

“How did she take it?”

“Oh, you know … she was unhappy. Maybe even mad. But it really seemed the best — for both of us. And I felt bad for neglecting you too, Haley. Oh, I know we had that
let’s be grown-ups
thing going on, but I just don’t feel good about it. I mean, you’re only sixteen. And you might not think you need any parenting, but I realized I might need to be a dad. After all, you’re going to be heading off to college in less than two years and I’ve already missed so much.” He makes a goofy grin. “You think you still have room in your life for your daddy?”

My chin is quivering and I’m about to burst into tears, but I’m trying very hard not to. However, the lump in my throat feels like the size of a grapefruit and I know I can’t hold back.

“Sorry, honey.” Dad looks alarmed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No … no,” I blurt. “It’s just … just … oh, I don’t know….” I jump from the stool and run to my room, where I burst into full-blown sobs. I’m not even sure why I’m crying exactly. On one hand I’m relieved that Dad and Estelle broke up, but on the other hand I realize that what I have to tell him will probably hurt him too. At the very least he’ll be disappointed in me for making such poor choices.

After a couple of minutes, I hear a
tap-tap
on my door. “Come in,” I say in a hoarse voice as I sit up in bed.

Dad opens the door and hesitantly enters my room. “What’s going on?” he asks with concerned eyes.

Naturally this brings on more tears. Why is it that sympathy breaks me down like this? “It’s a long story.”

He pulls a chair closer to my bed and sits down. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I put some pillows behind me and lean into the headboard of my bed, closing my eyes. “This isn’t going to be easy, Dad.”

“Take your time.”

“It’s very humiliating,” I admit with my eyes still closed. “And I know you’ll be disappointed in me.”

Now there’s a pause and I wonder if I’m scaring him, but I keep my eyes closed, hoping that maybe he’ll just leave.

“You need to remember something, Haley.”

I open my eyes and look at him. He’s leaning forward with his hands resting on his knees. “I am not your mother. She and I think completely differently about things. I’ll admit that I have my faults — plenty of them — but one thing I won’t do is judge you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nod, trying not to cry again.

“Honestly, Haley, there is nothing you can tell me that will make me love you any less. You could tell me you cheated on your math test or slept with your boyfriend or robbed a liquor store or got a tattoo or decided you prefer girls to boys or have become addicted to drugs or whatever. I’ll still be your dad and I’ll still love you. Okay?” He peers at me. “Do you get that?”

I nod.

“In fact, if we’re making confessions, I should tell you that I’m very sorry for what a lousy dad I’ve been to you since you got here. But that’s going to change now.”

Again there’s a long silence, but hearing him say all that — how I could do anything and he’d still love me — makes me feel stronger. Like I can do this. “Well, I haven’t robbed any liquor stores. But what happened does involve the police.” I wait, watching as he simply nods. Then I slowly begin and, amazingly, just tell him the whole story.

As I talk, he is kind of twisting his fingers around, as if he’s nervous or upset but trying to act cool. Finally, when I am done, he stands up and begins pacing. Pounding his fist into his palm, he looks very angry.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” I feel tears coming. “I never meant for that to happen and I know now that I never should’ve let Harris in here without you —”

“No!” Dad turns and looks at me, and I’m shocked to see tears in his eyes. I’ve only seen this man cry once before and that was when he left Mom. “That’s not why I’m mad, Haley. I am enraged at Harris. I want to kill him!” He pounds his fist again. “I really want to make that boy suffer!”

I blink in surprise.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to charge over to his house and take the law into my own hands, but I am going to back you in this legal case. That boy deserves to be prosecuted — fully.”

Then I explain how there’s not much evidence.

“Why didn’t you tell me when this happened?”

“I was so scared … and ashamed … and you weren’t home. I didn’t know what to do. I would’ve called Mom, but you know how that would’ve gone. In fact, I did call her a few days later … and she was still the same. I couldn’t tell her.”

Dad comes over and takes my hands in his hands, looking into my eyes. “I’m sorry I was so checked out, Haley. I feel like this is partially my fault.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I should’ve known better.”

“This is
not
your fault, Haley. Do you get that? It’s not your fault. That boy was way out of line. What he did was wrong. You can’t blame yourself.”

“Maybe not. But I know I’ll never do that again. I’ll never get into a situation like that again.”

“Oh, honey, I sure hope not.” He sniffs. “You’re such a beautiful girl — inside and out. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.”

Once again, his sympathy brings on my tears. I remind him about my purity pledge; I made it before the divorce so he knows about it. “But now the pledge is ruined. I feel like I’m —
I’m damaged
.”

He squeezes my hands. “You might feel damaged, Haley. But when you get past this, I know you’ll be the same sweet girl as before.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“I’ll admit I haven’t been going to church since, well, since your mom started going off the deep end and things fell apart. But I still believe in God. Do you?”

I consider this. “I guess so. But I know God must be mad at me. Not for what Harris did, but because I was so stupid to —”

“I disagree,” he says firmly. “I don’t believe God is like that. The God I believe in is loving and kind and forgiving.”

I take in a long, deep breath. “I’d like to believe that too, Dad.”

“Well, I have an idea. I’m not saying it’s going to solve all our problems. But a guy at work keeps inviting me to his church. It’s right here in Mitchell and it’s a nondenominational church where it sounds like everyone is welcome. According to Ryan, it’s very positive and the music is uplifting. Maybe you and I should give it a try tomorrow. You want to?”

I shrug. “Okay.”

Now Dad hugs me, long and hard. “Oh, Haley, I would do anything to take all that away from you. I’m really sorry I wasn’t here.”

After he lets me go, I admit how I’d wanted him to walk in and catch Harris and rescue me.

He shakes his head. “As much as I wish that had happened, I also know that if it had, I might be the one facing prosecution now.” Then he asks about what’s being done to Harris.

“I don’t really know. It’s in the hands of the police. They told me since I’m under eighteen, they have to prosecute him for me. I don’t even have a choice in the matter.”

“What would you do if you had a choice?”

“I don’t know … I suppose I might’ve just buried it.” I tell him how Ms. Flores was the one who blew the whistle. “At first I was mad at her. But then I realized she was just doing her job and I forgave her.”

“Well, I’m glad she did what she did,” Dad assures me. “Harris should not get away with that. The law is the law, no matter how old or young you are.”

“I guess so.”

We talk a while longer and I feel better than I’ve felt in days. “Thanks for listening like that,” I tell him. “You made it easier.”

“Do you need to see a counselor or anything?” he asks with a creased brow. “I mean, I’ve heard of situations like this where the victim ends up with PTSD.”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder?” This makes me think of Sean and all he’s been dealing with since he came home. It’s hard to believe Sean and I could really be suffering from the same thing.

“Do you think that’s possible?”

“I don’t really know.”

He tilts his head toward my computer. “Maybe we should check it out. Find out what you might be up against. I’ve always believed that knowledge is power.”

“Me, too.” So I turn on my computer, Google PTSD, and begin to read. “Look,” I tell Dad. “Rape is listed right beneath war.” So maybe Sean and I really do share some common ground here. Who would’ve thought?

“I’m not surprised at that.”

I begin to read the list of symptoms aloud. “Bad dreams, fearfulness, feeling numb, difficulty thinking.” I nod. “I guess I’ve had all of those.”