I’m left on the ground, stunned. I’ve never been struck before and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want to exacerbate the situation by verbally attacking him further, but I don’t want to run away and let this go as if I accept what he’s done as acceptable. I’m only on the ground for a few seconds, with no chance to make up my mind on my course of action, before he’s picking me up and pulling me by my hair toward a shadowed part of the gate.
I let out as much of a scream as I can muster, recognizing this might be my only chance to call for help. “Shut the fuck up,” he huffs, as he throws me against the fence, pinning me between it and his chest. His fingers are twisted into my hair, holding me in place, my battered face being scraped further by the metal of the fence.
“Please,” I plead. “Please stop.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp but he’s too strong. His acidic, beer breath is hot on my neck and it turns my stomach. I continue to struggle until I feel his free hand moving under my skirt ripping at my panties. My body tenses and panic overwhelms me.
“Women like you need to be taken down a few notches,” I hear him whisper “I plan on teaching you a fucking lesson.”
My brain begins to shut off to the present, making way for the images of the night that changed everything. It was an event I could never truly remember, but the scenes in the photographs are something I could never forget. They flood my head, taking over.
Before his hands can violate my body further, the weight forcing me against the fence is gone and I slide down until I’m sitting on the ground, huddled against the jagged metal, gripping onto it for safety.
My eyes are pinched shut, but somehow tears have managed to escape and are sliding down my face. I feel completely out of control as my body shakes with adrenaline, but still I refuse to release the safety of the chain-link. When I feel hands on my face and then smoothing through my hair, the sensation causes me to yell out and move closer to the fence, even though there is no possible way to get any closer without climbing it.
“Shhh, sweetheart. You’re safe now,” a smooth, baritone voice that has become so familiar to me whispers…Casen. I know it’s him, but I can’t seem to let myself peel away from the fence.
“I’m here, Jen. Let go, baby, I’m here,” Casen continues as he tries to pull me away from the gate.
The blood rushes back to my fingers when I release my grip on the slick metal. My thumbs run along the indentations to soothe the throbbing sensation. Casen immediately slides me onto his lap and I burrow myself into his chest.
“What the fuck happened here, man?” I hear Royce shout.
“What the fuck do you think happened, Royce?” he replies as he begins to stand with me in his arms. “Call the police to get this piece of shit out of here. I’m taking her with me.” It’s only then I finally open my eyes and the sight before me causes a sob to break loose. My attacker is on the ground, unconscious and bleeding. I can’t see them, but I’m sure I would find large gashes on Casen’s knuckles, judging from the damage his hands caused.
“No, no police,” I tell him. His strong stride instantly stops.
“We have to call the police, he needs to go to jail for this,” he says soothingly, holding me close.
I respond by shaking my head adamantly. I may not give a shit about my horrible parents, but I’m smart enough to know not to venture under their radar. “If there are police reports, there will be media attention. Please, I just want to leave.”
Casen dips his head and sighs after an excruciatingly long pause. I know he’s going against his better judgment by respecting my wishes, and if he were calling the shots here there would be about a million police cars circling this back lot.
“Okay,” he finally says before turning back around to face Royce. “Don’t call the police, Royce, just get this shit bag off the lot and see to it that he won’t be working any more venues. Whatever Deputy Dewey badge he has, I want it revoked.”
“No fucking way, we need to call the authorities, and what in the hell am I supposed to do with this guy? What about the show, man?” Royce asks.
Casen tightens his grip on me and takes a deep breath before letting out a bellow, which makes me startle in his arms. “Dammit, Royce, just fucking handle this!” he shouts, taking a step closer to him. “Tell Campbell I had some kind of emergency and she’ll find a stand-in for the night. Either way, I’m leaving and taking Jen with me.”
Without giving Royce the opportunity to argue, he storms off in the direction of his truck. I don’t protest, I don’t request he take me to my car. I go willingly with him, handing over every bit of control I usually demand from a situation. Casen makes me feel safe and taken care of, a feeling I rarely have felt in my life. My parents couldn’t protect me, my friends have never known I needed protection, yet Casen has somehow stepped in and given me what I needed in the exact moment I needed it.
Once in the passenger seat and on the road, the lights of the city begin to fade. As the dark landscape of the mountains envelops us, I allow my mind to finally process the events of the evening. Thankfully, Casen doesn’t bombard me with questions or pepper me with insistent probing into my well-being. He stays quiet, merely holding my hand to show his support; it’s like he knows that is all I need or even want right now.
The darkness and lack of conversation forces my mind to be overtaken by the resurfaced memories of my tainted past and the terrifying events which occurred this evening. I’m conflicted by feelings of appreciation as well as embarrassment that Casen was there to see and save me in such a vulnerable moment. As much as I don’t want Casen to see me struggle, I can’t keep my tears at bay. They slowly run down my cheeks and when Casen hears my sniffles, he squeezes my hand, but continues to remain silent. I’m so emotionally exhausted it soon becomes a challenge to keep my eyes open. It isn’t long before I feel the calmness of sleep pull me under.
Casen
As soon as we get to the camper I keep parked at Mueller State Park, I carry a sleeping Jen to the back bedroom and make a bed for myself on the foldout couch. As much as I want to sleep, I’m unsuccessful, tossing and turning until I force myself out of bed to get things ready for Jen in the morning.
I don’t know how I contained myself from killing that guy. Lord knows I fucking wanted to. Since that was off the table, I at least wanted him arrested. I was more than shocked when Jen wouldn’t let me call the authorities. I really don’t know what to do for her; I don’t know how to fix any of this, fix her—but I want to. It’s apparent she’s been through some kind of shit in her life…haven’t we all? This is different though, she’s hiding something. I’ve always been able to tell when someone was running, when they’ve buried secrets, and Jen MacLauchlan has buried something vicious.
All night I’ve wandered into the bedroom to watch her sleep, to smooth her hair when her sleep talking and rambles turn into frightened night terrors. My Great Dane, Hendrix, hasn’t left her side, alerting me of her terrors with whimpering. I think they upset him as much as they upset me to witness.
When I can’t handle the restlessness and useless feelings I have any longer, I lay out a pair of sweats and a T-shirt on the bed for when she wakes up. I write her a note and leave her in the care of Hendrix. I hop into Nelly and head toward Woodland Park. It’s the nearest town to the campsite with a Walmart where I can at least pick her up a few toiletry items, some clothes, and medical supplies to clean up my knuckles and her scraped-up knees. Also, I have some food in the camper, but definitely not enough to serve her a proper breakfast and sustain us both for the entire weekend. She may not intend to stay with me longer than the hour to travel back to Colorado Springs where her car is parked, but if I have my way, she will stay the weekend.