“Preston? Is he a boyfriend, someone who hurt you, someone you lost? He means something to you, I just want to know in what way.” I try to ease my tone, as I don’t know if this person is a good something or bad something. Either way, I feel like I need to know this if I’m ever going to really know her.

“He’s someone I wish I could forget, someone I wish I had never met,” she says through gritted teeth.

“So he’s a past tense?” I ask, searching for a little clarification.

“I haven’t seen him in years, but what he did fucked up so much of my life, every day I battle to forget.” Her lips begin to tremble, but instead of the sadness one would expect, hers is a tremble of anger.

“What happened, Jen?” I say smoothly, moving closer to her and grabbing her hand like she had previously done for me.

“He stole everything from me.” Her anger flares once again. “I lost my family, my friends, and for a long time, my sanity. He’s not someone I care to remember. His name is a reminder of the innocence I lost.”

“Please let me in,” I plead. This is her story and I won’t force her to share it, but I want to be the one who gets past this barrier, this gate which has locked the real Jen away.

She takes a deep breath, and looks away from me as she begins her story. I understand the feeling; this memory is as harmful to her soul as my memories are to mine.

“It was the summer before my senior year of high school. I was so excited to be finishing up and heading off to college. I was a good kid. I never stayed out past curfew, never would have been caught in the back of some guy’s car, I didn’t drink. My father demanded perfection, and I made sure to live up to those expectations. When the most popular guy in school asked me to go to a party, it was a given that I would accept his invitation. I was so excited, my best friend Amber, or at least I thought she was my best friend, was excited for me even though I knew she really liked him. All the girls did.”

I feel my body overheat as I recognize the direction of this story, but I try to hide my anger and disdain for this asshole who broke her.

“What did he do?” I ask as controlled as possible.

“I have no real memory of it. The doctor my aunt took me to said more than likely I’d been drugged. The only people who filled my cup that night was Preston and Amber, so you do the math. I woke up the next morning in my car with torn clothing and a horrible headache. It wasn’t until a few weeks later when I truly understood what happened to me.”

I squeeze her hand, willing her to continue. “What really happened?”

“My father was sent photographs. Horrible pictures,” she mumbles, looking away and brushing a tear from her cheek. It takes her several moments to collect herself enough to continue on. I don’t push, I don’t encourage. I just wait. She needs to tell her story in her own time, without me forcing any more of it out of her.

“I was a good kid, Casen,” she finally says. The sadness dripping from her words weaves into my soul. I can’t help but want to rip out my own heart to give it to her, just to erase this pain of hers. “Those pictures changed everything. The guys’ faces weren’t in the shots, it was only me who could be seen. They had me laid out naked on a kitchen table, doing unimaginable things.”

“Did your parents call the police and press charges?” It seems like a no-brainer type of question, but judging from her reaction to the attack at the concert, there is no simple answer with her.

“It was an election year, and the pictures were meant to scare my father away from campaigning. Instead, my father called in some favors and swept it under the rug. That also meant I needed to disappear.”

All emotion has drained from her as she recounts the rest of the story as if she’s detached herself from it. I can relate. Retell without reliving, it’s how I survived for a long time, but it doesn’t heal anything. She’s avoided dealing with her parents. Just like the other night, she ran.

“Disappear?” I ask.

“I went to live with my aunt to be homeschooled my senior year and then went to college at CSU. My parents pretended like it didn’t happen. Even when I tried to explain, they didn’t believe anything illegal had happened to me. The only one who believed me was my Aunt Maggie. She’s the only one who really cared about me. But you know what? I learned a lot about who I can depend on, and what loyalty means. Now you know why I’m such a bitch. I’d rather be safe than sorry.” She shrugs like the story she just shared is not some big deal. She’s distancing herself again, and it blows my freakin’ mind.

“Hold on here. First of all, you’re not a bitch. Difficult yes, but not a bitch. Second, Preston was one of the guys, but nothing ever happened to him? How is that okay by any stretch of the imagination? Just like the fucker from Friday night, he should be in jail.” I stand from the log and pace in front of her. Henry takes notice and follows me in my continued stride. My pissed level is skyrocketing. I hate that she was hurt, but her acceptance of the lack of consequences takes my anger to a new level of rage. The system doesn’t always work, but I think you have to give it a chance.

“It’s not fucking okay, Casen!” she shouts, jumping up from the log, stopping me mid-pace. “I was a teenager, what was I supposed to do? I don’t have any memory of what happened. I’ve always blamed Preston because he brought me drinks and I was in his care, so I figured he and Amber were the ones who arranged it. This is something I’ve tried to forget about, to move past, and you’re asking me to jump right back into the pile of shit which was my adolescence. No thanks.”

The heat of her anger radiates off her. More than ever, I want to tuck her into my arms and never let her go. I want to make her feel safe, make her feel loved; I want to fill the void, which I now know is there.

“I just want you to feel safe,” I shout back, moving within inches of her. “I want you to know you aren’t alone.”

Silence hangs in the air, the sound of our breathing is all that is noticeable. Before she can reject me, I twist my fingers into her sweatshirt and pull her even closer. “I want you to know you’re wanted. You’re worth it.”

I’m hesitant for a moment, but when I see her eyes bounce to my lips and then to my eyes again, I take it as an invitation to proceed. With as much conviction as I can, I smash my mouth onto her lips. They are as soft as I remember, but now there are remnants of salt from her tears. She opens her mouth, allowing me to explore her more fully. I grasp onto her tightly and let myself get lost in the damaged beauty of this woman.

I lift her tiny body off the ground and her hands immediately wrap around my neck as her fingers crawl into my hair. The sensation of her hands on my body electrifies me, but my mind soon takes over and I know I can’t let it go any farther. This is the most inappropriate thing in the world to be doing after everything she told me. Letting it go past this kiss will make me no better than those other guys.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” I say, dropping her back down to the ground and stepping away. Tears begin to build in her eyes. She looks confused and rejected, and I want nothing more than to get away from that look.

I step closer once more, placing my hands on either side of her face and letting my forehead rest upon hers. “I want you, Jen. More than anything, I want you to be mine. But not like this.” I kiss her forehead and walk away toward the trail, which surrounds the campsite.

Walking away takes every bit of willpower I have, but I refuse to be some guy she would add to the list of douchebags who took advantage of her. I don’t want to be a guy she was with one random weekend. I want to be the guy she’s with forever.