I nodded.
Cal, Tim, and Parker pled guilty to a slew of rapes. They took a plea deal for every one to avoid a trial by jury and risk the possibility of receiving the maximum sentences for each. I never had to testify in court. I didn’t even attend the preliminary hearing. I was not subpoenaed, the judge requesting I submit a written statement of my attack. At first I thought I wanted to face my attackers at the hearing—that I was supposed to want to go to relish in their misery and fear—but I learned that wasn’t strength. Strength for me was giving them no more of my time. I didn’t need to see them cry. I didn’t even need to hear about it from my attorney, though she told me anyway, thinking the news would give me some satisfaction.
The boys accepted the terms of the plea deal my attorneys and the defense counsel drew up. Their sentence for my attack was the stiffest since they were charged as adults, but it could have been much worse had they opted for a trial by jury. They knew the evidence was stacked against them, so they took the deal: guilty of kidnapping and rape in the first degree, each would serve out a sentence of fifteen years without the possibility of parole. That sentence didn’t include the years they racked up for their other offenses. They would be in prison for decades.
“Ryan told me what happened,” Lucy began. She watched me carefully. “He was there that night. Fourteen years old, and he was on the swim team with the others.”
I immediately feared the worst, and Lucy seemed to know what I was thinking.
“He wasn’t part of that league, Brooke. He didn’t even know about it until the news story broke.”
“How could he not know about it?” I asked.
“Brooke, did anyone at school know about the league? The other swim team members didn’t even know.”
I was so confused. “Why wasn’t his picture in the yearbook? I never saw him in the ninth grade swim team photo.”
“I don’t know,” Lucy replied. “Maybe he was absent that day or they took the picture after he quit. Who cares?”
“Why was he at the motel room that night if he didn’t know about the league?” I asked.
“Well, he thinks now that the boys were going to ask him to join, and that’s why they brought him to the motel room. He thought he was going to some stupid underage drinking party.”
I scowled.
“Anyway, no one got the chance to tell him their intentions because he freaked out as soon as he saw me lying there on the bed.”
“He should have fought for you,” I said bitterly.
“He did,” Lucy replied. “He argued with them: Cal, Parker, and Tim. He tried to stop what they were doing to me, and Parker and Tim beat the shit out of him. They threatened him if he talked. He wouldn’t tell his parents what happened when he got home. They took him to urgent care, but he wouldn’t give up the names of his attackers. It drove a wedge between him and his parents for a long time. He just . . . withdrew.”
I was furious, unable to contain myself any longer.
“Oh, poor Ryan! He got beat up! So what? Where were his balls, Lucy?! He should have gone to the police! He should have told someone what happened to you!”
“Did you tell anyone about Tim almost drowning you in the school pool?!” Lucy shouted.
I stared at her, stunned.
“No, Brooke. You didn’t. Because you were scared. And what about after your rape? Were you ready to testify against those boys? I remember you telling me you wanted to run away and forget it all happened. Why? Because you were scared.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Lucy cut me off.
“I’m not saying it’s right that Ryan never talked, but they threatened his life, Brooke. Maybe they would have followed through with that threat; maybe not. But when you’re fourteen and you’re scared shitless, you believe it.”
I turned my face away, ashamed and disgusted with myself, with Ryan, with the victims. Everyone.
“He came to my house one afternoon and confessed everything. I’ve never seen a guy cry, and it really freaked me out.”
“Too little too late,” I mumbled.
Lucy ignored my statement. “He went to the police. He told them everything. I came forward afterwards. If not for Ryan’s testimony, those boys would have never pled guilty for what they did to me.”
“A pillar of honor,” I said sarcastically.
Lucy was patient. “I’ve forgiven him, Brooke.”
My head shot up. “Why?”
“Because he apologized.”
My mouth hung open in disbelief. Just like that? Because he apologized?
“All those other rapes,” I said.
“Yeah,” Lucy replied. “All those other rapes that he didn’t know about.”
“But he knew Cal was a bad guy. He warned me about him.”
“He warned you about the Cal he knew in ninth grade, Brooke. He warned you because of what happened to me. Stop trying to hold him responsible for every subsequent rape!”