“After Barry paid Ricky and Ricky left, Barry sat on the bed next to me and began to touch me… and himself. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t do anything. Even when Barry talked about Uncle Micah and the sick things he did to him, I didn’t do anything because I was so fucking scared,” Christopher explained. His voice had dropped considerably, so it was hard to hear him, but his body language spoke volumes. He was hunched over like he was trying to fold his body in on itself to make himself as small a target as he could.
“He was going to fuck me up against the wall. I can still feel the coldness of it against my cheek. I can still smell him as he held me there and told me I was going to be his special boy. I didn’t move, not even when he released me so he could drop his pants. I could have pushed him and made a run for it, but I didn’t. I didn’t tell him to stop, I didn’t struggle when he began unbuttoning my jeans. I’m not sure I even cried. I just accepted it. When Uncle Micah showed up, he tore Barry away from me and told me to take Rory and run. I didn’t once think about staying behind to help him fight off Barry or Ricky. I ran. I just ran.”
“What do you think would have happened to your sister if you hadn’t run?” I asked.
Christopher merely shrugged.
“King told me what happened when he went after you and your sister that night. He said you found a spot to hide where he had no way of reaching you and that you kept your body between him and Rory the whole time.”
There was still no real response from Christopher, and I knew anything else I said would just fall on deaf ears. Christopher had developed his narrative a long time ago, and no amount of me telling him he’d done exactly the right thing was going to change that.
At least not today.
Over time? Maybe.
“Uncle Micah saved me that night, and four years ago, you did the same thing,” Christopher said. He finally looked at me. “My very own knight in shining armor,” he said, though the words were hollow. He dropped his eyes to Pip again. “I didn’t fight that night either. Not when the guys grabbed us and not when the one took me into that room. Gio, he tried to take them all on. Maybe if I’d helped… but surprise, surprise, I was too scared… again.”
“I saw the tail end of that fight, Christopher. You guys were outnumbered and outmatched. And you did fight. I saw you try to go for that fire alarm. You used your head to try and find a way out of the situation. Just like you used your head when you hid from King in a spot where you knew he wouldn’t be able to reach you.”
Christopher didn’t respond. I let out a sigh because I’d done exactly what I’d told myself I wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” I said, daring to reach across the island to briefly touch Christopher’s forearm. The fact that he didn’t pull away from me was something at least.
“I was so grateful for you that night, Rush. So grateful,” Christopher said softly. He looked at me, and I could see tears pooling in his eyes. He angrily dashed at what was clearly an unwanted show of emotion. He dropped his eyes again and added, “But I knew I wouldn’t be lucky enough to get a third time.”
I was about to ask him what he meant when he said, “I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop someone if they…” He paused briefly before continuing. “What if it happened while I was on a date? What if someone grabbed me from off the street and pulled me into an alley? Con had taught me some self-defense moves before that night in the club, but I didn’t use any of them. I knew I wouldn’t use them in those other situations either. So I made a decision that night, in that room that I should have been raped in.”
My heart hurt for Christopher. The terror in his voice was so strong that the attack at the club might as well have happened yesterday.
“What was the decision?” I asked.
“Since I couldn’t protect myself, I’d have to make sure I was never in a situation where someone could hurt me like that. So that’s what I did.”
As unreasonable as his argument sounded, I also knew how desperate and vulnerable Christopher had to have been feeling after escaping not one, but two violent sexual assaults.
“How?” I asked.
“It was easy. I finished my last year of high school online. I never went anywhere by myself, and the only events I went to were ones where I knew that only people I trusted would be there. I spent most days studying and reading.”