The Broken Sister Part 2

He straightened his back as he sat across from Tommy. "What's the deal?"

JR cleared his throat. It irritated Tristan how much his father cowered and fumbled in Ellis's presence. He couldn't live up to him or stand up to him. Tristan felt disdain towards the man who should have raised him, but really, it was all Ellis who did the raising. JR was too busy s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g women and partying it up with too much alcohol. He really didn't know much more about his dad than that. JR and he spent little time together and never had.

"Well, there is this girl who is making noise that she was date raped... by Tommy."

"What exactly did she say?"

"That she went to the fraternity, was drinking, and then doesn't remember what happened but woke up in Tommy's room with no clothes on. She was sore and covered in s.e.m.e.n. She ran home and showered it all away. Waits two months and then finally comes forward with an exam at the student health clinic."

"What does she want?"

"I'm not hearing of any actual accusations. She's talking to people. Maybe she's just, you know..."

"What, Tristan? What is she doing? She's not working through anything. She's setting up to come after me. You don't think I did this, do you? My G.o.d. You don't believe me capable, do you?"

Tristan flushed and heat burned through his body. No. Of course he didn't think Tommy raped anyone. But maybe he got a little rough or misunderstood something. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding, or the girl was hurt by Tommy not wanting to see her again. Maybe they could just talk to her...

"No. Of course I know this is a shakedown. So you're saying there is nothing official yet?"

"Unfortunately no. There is a website, and she's posted Tommy's name."

Tristan's stomach tightened. "What website?"

JR cleared his throat and pushed his b.u.t.t back and forth in his chair. His fidgeting made Tristan nervous. Tristan nailed him with his glare. "Dad?"

"Well, this website that some girl put up that freely and without any kind of investigation or proof lets other girls post about s.e.xual a.s.saults. It's a joke. Its unleashed propaganda that's only function is male bashing and ruining good kids', like your brother's, entire futures."

"How long has this been around?"

"It showed up last year. Some group spouting all these facts about s.e.xual a.s.sault on college campuses. You know the usual. Put hormonal young people in close contact and things will happen. As such is nature. Anyway, they are trying to shame colleges into action. I just never dreamed my son's name would be tagged on it."

"There is no legal basis to this?" Tristan tapped his fingers on the table.

"No. Of course not."

"And she hasn't approached anyone about money? Or suing or accusations?" He directed his questions to Tommy.

"No. Just that posting on the website." Tommy shrugged. Tristan noticed him hunch forward. It felt like there was something Tommy wasn't disclosing to them.

"So you're saying this girl hasn't actually approached us? No accusations? No lawyers? Just some chatter on a website with no legal basis." Tristan summarized.

"Innuendo is enough to lead to trouble. It doesn't take much for accusations to lead to people looking for evidence. We will not sit on this, like anyone can say things like this about one of us," Ellis added from his end of the table with sharp sarcasm. Ellis smacked his hand on the table. "It is incomprehensible that this can just be done. That our name can be ruined like this." He whipped his glare to Tristan. "Find her and neutralize her, now." The pulse at Ellis's temple throbbed.

"Yes, sir." Somehow this had become Tristan's problem and sin, when Tommy was the one who started the mess. It had always been that way. As his older brother, Tristan cleaned up the mess that Tommy inevitably made of his life. He got up and Tommy followed him.

"I can't believe this s.h.i.t, man. Try to have a good time. These b.i.t.c.hes want it, and then get it, and when I don't fall over them in marriage they claim I raped them. Can't handle a rejection shouldn't mean my life gets raped. Right?"

Tristan shoved the door shut. "Maybe don't go around sounding like that where anyone can hear you? Doesn't help our cause much. You come off as an egotistical p.r.i.c.k. We might need you sympathetic, the victim of a system that doesn't require proof of wrongdoing. Just cool it, okay, Tommy? Give me a chance to make this go away."

"Do you think you can? It needs to go away now, bro. I got enough to deal with this year without some ho trying to ruin me."

Tristan shook his head. How the h.e.l.l was this all his problem? He resented being pulled away from legit work that required his brain and education and a.n.a.lytical skills to go take care of some gossip propaganda that in all honesty made him feel sketchy. Even if Tommy didn't deserve it, Tommy was abrasive in his crude opinions about women he dated or slept with. He had gotten even more ent.i.tled the last two years at Peterson. Between being the golden boy, a football star, and fraternity president, he was puffed up on adulation and being the big man on campus and enjoying every moment and perk of it. There was no humility in him. Lots of ent.i.tlement however. He was a blowhard, but harmless. Still, talk like that could be taken wrong.

"I'm going to try, just stay out of trouble for a few days, okay? I can't do anything if you keep adding fuel to the fire that is threatening to start. Do you get me?"

Tommy scoffed. "Fine. But that's really f.u.c.king lame, I have to adjust my life."

Tristan sent his brother out and finished up the reports for his grandfather. It was close to eight o'clock before he got out of the office and left. He grabbed some takeout on the way home and settled in with his laptop to explore the website and start figuring out how to neutralize some college girl posting gossip about his brother.

Chapter Four.

"DID YOU HEAR?" MEREDITH said before Kylie could even say h.e.l.lo into her cell phone.

"Hear what?"

"There's been an accusation made at Tommy Tamasy on the Rape Matters website! The entire campus is a buzz with it. Apparently, it was posted last Thursday but didn't go viral until today."

Kylie's stomach soured immediately. She fell onto her bed and curled into a ball. She was in her bedroom, safe and alone at her mom's house. No one knew about her. No one knew about Tommy. He could not hurt her... yet it all congealed in her stomach like rancid meat. He was a known and popular student. She was nothing. This was half of why she could never report anything. Who would believe her over him? He was Tommy Tamasy. Even two years ago he was the "it" person. Now? He was second to no one at school. Everyone knew who he was. Girls ogled him. Guys emulated him. If he blessed you with his attention you were touching the d.a.m.n sun of Peterson College.

But someone else had been hurt by him! Kylie suddenly jumped to her feet as the realization stabbed her right in the head. She wasn't alone. She wasn't the only one. There was someone else who might understand. She frantically grabbed her computer and started loading the website. She'd heard of it, but had never been on it. What right did she have? Hers wasn't exactly rape, like the traditional sense of the injustice. There was no memory of a guy attacking her from behind while she screamed "no!" and he didn't listen.

She started scrolling through the web site until she found it. She didn't hear what Meredith was saying. Meredith busily squealed and dissected the implications and whether it was true. Kylie finally just hung up with a "call ya later." She stared then at the screen.

The girl's name was Cadence Sommelier. She was a freshman. Her story read so similar to Kylie's own. She was at a party... drinking... Tommy and her... and waking up naked in his room and no recollection of how she got there. But there was evidence of s.e.x on her. s.e.x she didn't consent to.

Kylie's pulse started to skitter around weirdly. Someone else knew! Someone else might know what it was like to wake up in Tommy's room and be so confused how she got there... so sure her body had s.e.x, but her mind was blank. A piece of white paper. A wiped clean blackboard. There was nothing there.

Consent. She had not given coherent consent to anyone that night. Of that she was sure. The only thing Kylie knew about that night was that she had not agreed to have s.e.x with anyone. So someone had it with her without her consent. Technically rape.

But deep in Kylie's heart she knew, just knew, it wasn't the same kind of rape as that of violent attacks. Or where the woman screamed "No!" Or where she struggled. Kylie knew her actions allowed her rapist the opportunity to get to her. By being a s.l.u.t and drinking and being "easy," she had made herself an accomplice to what Tommy did to her. She was part to blame. And thus, why she had kept it inside her, and all to herself for two years.

She grew warm and had to throw off her flannel shirt. She felt nervous, just reading this. Reliving this. Something percolated in her. Revenge. Hope. Justice. Understanding. All of it swirled in her. All the things she wanted. And had never contemplated having.

Until she clicked through the comments.

The words all popped out at her. c.o.c.k tease. s.l.u.t. b.i.t.c.h. Liar. Wh.o.r.e. Your fault. So many listed why this episode was Cadence's fault. Kylie hung her head as the words slammed into her brain and heart... and she knew she was all these things too. She was all of the above. c.o.c.k-tease. s.l.u.t. b.i.t.c.h. Liar. Wh.o.r.e.

If she hadn't been at that party to have s.e.x with the very person who drugged and raped her, then maybe she wouldn't be part of it. Maybe then she could with a clear conscious scream "rape!" at the top of her lungs. But she had gone there with the intent to have s.e.x. Either with Tommy if he'd asked, or any number of his friends, which would have been a fine subst.i.tute for her.

There was already over a hundred comments. Some, the minority, were in solidarity with Cadence. The rest? Ripping her to virtual shreds. Claiming Cadence was making it up. A liar looking for a payday. She wanted it. It was consensual. She put herself there. Many people who claim they were there that night and saw her drinking. Saw her flirting and kissing Tommy. Many who saw her go upstairs with him... willingly.

Willingly. Yes, Kylie knew about willingly putting herself at parties where she was so drunk from alcohol she'd put into her own body that she could barely stand. She remembered numerous times, maybe a couple of dozen, of doing such things. Even after whatever happened at Tommy's. But the thing that separated all those instances from the night at Tommy's was that no matter how drunk she got, she never woke up thinking something had happened but with no idea what or how or who. She would sometimes wake up with broken, stilted memories, but some memory of who and what had gone on.

But not that night. That night, something had been given to her.

But she'd made it all too easy for someone eventually do that to her.

Just as Cadence had. And look at what was said to her. Kylie sighed. The small burst of hope, of thinking maybe there would be some kind of justice, ended.

No one cared if a s.l.u.t got raped.

She thought for a second and then under her anonymous email and tag she wrote in the comments, He did it to me too, Cadence. I just never told anyone. Stay strong. Consent is supposed to be contingent on you being conscious. People will call you names, but you know what happened to you was real. You're braver than me. I could never come forward. Good luck.

She stared at the blinking cursor for a good five minutes. Did she dare post this? Her breathing was increased and her eyes felt like they were swimming as dizziness overwhelmed her. Dare she? But then, why not? What could it hurt? It was anonymous and she would never be found. Besides, even if she was found out, this site didn't have any real legal reach or meaning. It was just girls like her crying about what they couldn't seem to find the guts to tell any authority figure. Then again... She sighed as her eyes scanned the comments. Wasn't this a good ill.u.s.tration on why most girls didn't report it? Who was there to listen?

She closed down her computer and pushed it away. Disgust ripped through her heart. She was such a pathetic coward who had never done a brave thing in her life. She couldn't even get a date without being half drunk. How dare she look in the mirror ever again, she wondered. How could she possibly look in the mirror? She left an anonymous comment on someone else's story and accusation and then she shut her electronics off, as if someone was going to jump through her computer and find her. Sweat rolled down her back and between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Add coward to her list of faults.

Kylie held her knees up to her chest and stared out of the window of her bedroom. Still home, she expected her mother to be home from work soon. After breaking down on Donny's shoulder he had patted her head and cooed over her with concern for five minutes until she convinced him she'd just had a bad date and was just so glad to see him. That answer pleased Donny.

Staring out at the bl.u.s.tery, dry day she wondered then, with all this love around her, why did she feel so hollow inside? What was wrong with her she couldn't appreciate it? What was wrong with her that she didn't know she shouldn't sleep around like she did? What made her so d.a.m.n broken inside?

It wasn't just the date-rape. It wasn't just that she had someone violate her and yet had no firsthand knowledge of it. No, these feelings of aching numbness and hollowness had plagued her as long as she could remember. There had always been something so sad feeling about life. The guilt of that rippled through her though. What did she have to feel sad about? She was loved desperately by her mom and Donny and older sister Ally and younger sister Julia. She had a large and fulfilling network of relatives, and her best friend in the world was also her cousin, Olivia. There was so much in her life that was good. She didn't doubt that love. They were good people, decent people, who raised her with tenderness, concern, care and wanting for nothing. She'd always had her physical needs met and tended to. But for so long, before coming to college even, things had not felt right inside her.

Perhaps so much of her dissatisfaction with high school stemmed from how she'd often been ridiculed. She was skinny to the point of it being displeasing to many. Disgusting to others. She'd suffered through the high school gym locker room with the rude names slung her way. Calling her anorexic as if it was some kind of disgusting thing she chose to be. The mean slurs used to puzzle her because, if she was anorexic, wouldn't that just make her disease worse? If she had it? For many girls and even guys there was no choice in it. Still she had been looked at with disgust and exasperation. Her hip bones stuck out. Her stomach concaved inward. Her limbs all looked proportionately too long for her torso due to how skinny they were. Bones really.

She wasn't anorexic. Or at least she didn't think she was. She had trouble eating sometimes, but it wasn't with any regularity. She flirted with it on and off, starting about when her father left them, taking off before he could be arrested for the money he embezzled from his work. Money that was supposed to cover the losses he'd sustained for himself and a handful of clients he was trying to illegally earn more money for. Years had gone by before he came back. By then the damage to her had been done.

Her mother had loved her. Held her. Cuddled with her and talked to her. In all due credit her mother had tried so hard to make up for what happened. For her father leaving. But her mom hadn't been able to fill up the break that started inside Kylie.

It was just so... so disconcerting. She'd left for school one day a relatively happy, normal, well-adjusted elementary schooler... and then she came home one afternoon and things had been really odd in the house. Uncle Donny had met her bus and fed her dinner. Uncle Donny had never, ever done such a thing for them. He had never been their caretakers in the house. Not like that day. He claimed that Mom was sick. Their dad was away on business. He'd stayed the night... and had still been there the next morning. She remembered the sick tightening in her gut; she'd been sure her mom or dad was dying.

Then Mom had appeared. Mom didn't look right. To this day Kylie could picture her mom that morning. Her hair had been matted and grossly ratted around her face. Her face had been ashen, almost sickly, and her eyes bloodshot red in grief. There had been no doubt then, that something big was happening. It wasn't until that moment that Kylie even understood big things like that could happen. But it was happening.

Mom sat them down and calmly told them all about their father committing crimes and that he'd ran off. He'd avoided arrest and instead chose to abandon them.

It hadn't really sunk in. Mom had said he left. He was gone. There was no more Dad in her life. But that wasn't right. Her father... he wasn't some deadbeat loser who didn't love them. He'd been an integral part of her life her entire life until then. She didn't even know at that age that daddies could do bad things like that. That they could abandon their families. There was a note. In his handwriting. Mom let them read it. She was pretty open and bold with them. Transparent with what was happening and what had gone on. Looking back, Kylie believed her mom had handled it better than most any other mother could have. Of that Kylie was confident.

But it still couldn't erase the reality of what had happened to them... to Kylie.

Her dad was gone.

She had not seen him again. She had seen him every day of her life until September twenty-first ten years ago. Then he had disappeared for three years. Neither she nor her sister or mother ever got the full story from Micah, simply because they never spoke to him again. He only came back because he was caught and forced to face his arrest and conviction and prison time. After all that... it was almost more painful when he came back. He'd abandoned them and all for naught. He'd still ended up in prison, but added to that, Kylie had to live with the fact that her father could throw her out as easily as he'd throw out the trash. A father she cherished, respected, worshiped, and relied on. Ten years old, and she hadn't known to ever doubt him.

She struggled the most often with the fact that she could not pinpoint the exact last moment she had seen him. It was at dinner the two nights before she found out he was gone. So September nineteenth was the last time she was with her dad. She remembered a family dinner. It was pizza, she thought. The kitchen was a mess. Mom knew at that point, but they hadn't told her or Ally, and Kylie had sensed something was up. Mom claimed to be sick and that had been a sound enough explanation for her then. Did her dad kiss her goodnight? Or did she tell him it before she went upstairs? Did she go to her room and not see him before bed?

As hard as she tried to recreate the scene, the memory, she could not find the last time she saw her dad. She could not remember what the last words they spoke to each other were.

It had driven her nuts for ten years. She just wanted that last memory. That last word. That last hug. Had Micah gravelly said goodbye or goodnight to her? Had he held her extra-long? She didn't know. She couldn't remember.

It was a few years after Micah left that her mom married Donny. She hadn't cared. He made her mom happy, and Mom had been so unhappy after Micah disappeared. It had been an awful time. The house had been this silent, mean pit of despair for her, Ally, and her mom. Ally was angry and resentful and took it out on Mom. She yelled and screamed and argued all the time. No matter what Mom said or did, or what Donny said or did, Ally wreaked havoc over the household. Kylie hated noise, anger, screaming, and conflict. It scared her. She often hid under the bed, or in her closet. It was dark and safe there. She needed the comfort. The quiet. She often had to hide from the anger or the oppressive silence of her once happy household.

She should have dealt with it better. Been stronger and healthier like Ally. Ally had worked out her anger and resentment. She'd gotten into some trouble, she and Mom had had it out and voil, Ally was better. Ally started to thrive again as a straight-A student and avid fast pitch player. She'd even managed to get a scholarship to Peterson off of her grades. Pretty impressive. Ally McKinley was one of the most impressive, pretty, respected students at Peterson. Everybody loved her sister. Including Kylie. She just could not remotely reach the level of functioning perfection her sister could.

She'd been called many things in her life. Fragile. Delicate. Weak. Confused. Sad. Broken. Somehow it was usually "broken" that stuck.

She'd dabbled in alcohol since she was fifteen. Drugs were more sporadic, but she did periodically do them. She went to parties and met boys and discovered that with enough alcohol, she didn't feel near so fragile or broken or disgustingly skinny. And the boys didn't seem to notice that about her either.

And she really did like to have s.e.x. That wasn't something she faked. It made her feel good and she didn't see the harm in that. But there was. She learned that. So she kept it as quiet as she could. She tried to make sure her mom didn't find out.

Hence, much of the reason why she never reported what Tommy did. She couldn't prove it and it might bring all this out to her mom. Her mom had suffered so much after what their dad did. Her heartbreak, her humiliation, her concern for Ally and Kylie, getting a full-time job and then falling in love with her sister's husband. It hadn't been an easy journey for her mom. Kylie didn't want to add to all that that her daughter had become a s.l.u.t.

Kylie sighed, stretching her legs out. Why did it make her a s.l.u.t? Once in a while, in moments where she was feeling a little bit of confidence, she wondered why she wasn't allowed to enjoy and like s.e.x. Why weren't boys s.l.u.ts? For so many boys slept around, but when she did it-and G.o.d forbid, liked to have o.r.g.a.s.ms-it implied there was something wrong with her morals. It never seemed fair to Kylie. But she usually figured things wrong anyway. So she probably was wrong about this too.

Still, someone else had experienced it.

She obsessively thought about Cadence. Should she contact her? Speak to her for real? Maybe... Lord, maybe it would feel good to have someone know. To understand. To not blame her for being and acting like most of the boys at that party. Yet she was the s.l.u.t, b.i.t.c.h, ho, wh.o.r.e, etc. Always with the names.

The thing was, she really didn't think she was any of those things.

But they did. And majority opinions ruled what was right and wrong in society.

A knock on her bedroom door disturbed her morbid musings. She knew by the swift double knock it was her mom.

Tracy walked in. She could have changed her name to Lindstrom, as Donny's but she'd kept Micah's name. Her children's name, she told Ally, anytime Ally questioned it. Ally questioned everything. Kylie just accepted it all. She accepted her discontent, her weaknesses, her drinking, and the names she was called. She accepted that Micah had left and she lived with the fear that anyone could leave at any moment. She often stressed over who was next going to leave her.

It was totally irrational. She knew that. Reality had her clearly stating that to a half dozen different counselors, but deep down, in her gut, or heart or soul, she just didn't believe it. She was always fearing who would leave her.

Somehow without her mom ever telling her, Kylie knew Tracy had kept the McKinley last name for Kylie. She had never begrudged her mom Donny, but she had a hard time understanding how her parents could no longer love each other. She had been so sure and confident when she was young of her parents' love for each other and her. It was all a lie. Mom claimed now it wasn't. That their father loved them. He made some mistakes, yadda, yadda, yadda. That's all Kylie's brain could do when faced with thinking about her father in her life or how he felt about them to do this to them.

"Hey, hon. What's up?" Tracy walked forward and sat on Kylie's bed. It wasn't her childhood bedroom. Of course that home had been sold, along with almost everything about their life until Donny. They had lived in Donny's house for a few years before they had built this house. It was a comfortable house, about twenty-two hundred square feet with enough bedrooms for all of them. Her bedroom had been kept while she was at college and she still came to hide sometimes.

Her mom's tone was casual, but her gaze traveling up and down Kylie was anything but. Looking, judging, wondering, worrying, her mom was always having to check on her. Kylie's heart dropped. She was the bane of her mom's existence. She was always the one to be worried and puttered over because there had always been things wrong. She was incapable of dealing with real life. Proven by every single thing that had ever happened to her, and how often she made the wrong decision or couldn't handle it.

Kylie shrugged. "I just felt a little overwhelmed with cla.s.ses. I know Donny probably told you I lost it all over him. I was just..."

What? Too chicken to face the boy I never told on? What to say? How to hide?

But Mom's gaze was narrowed on her. She dropped her face to glare at the comforter. Tracy ran her hand along Kylie's slicked back hair and tugged on the knot of hair. "I like your natural color. Any reason you've let it grow out? It's been a few years since I've seen it."

Kylie knew her mom often backed off and gave her s.p.a.ce. Kept things easy so Kylie was comfortable with talking. Mom had the patience of fifty saints. She didn't push or demand. She sometimes just let Kylie be quiet and morose and might never even know quite why.

"I was sick of trying so hard to keep it black." She'd kept her long, thick hair dyed a midnight black for over a year. It was almost back to its dark auburn color. To Mom's credit, she'd never said a word about not liking it. She was infallibly supportive of Kylie, even when Kylie really didn't deserve it.

"Kylie? What really made you come home?"

She licked her lips. "There was this nasty rumor going on about me. I dated this guy, and he had a girlfriend, but I swear to you I didn't know. She's spreading lies about me. It's so middle school, really. I can't believe I let it get to me."

There was no way she was going to insert "drunken s.e.x at a party" for "dated."

"It always hurts to have hurtful things said. Otherwise people wanting to hurt you wouldn't say them, right?"