Chapter Seven

Sitting in the waiting room of the nearest urgent care center, I repeatedly tug and fidget with the hem of my t-shirt. Randy had been back there in a room for nearly an hour. Updating me through text messages, he informs me that the doctor is strongly recommending him to file a police report and to also save and not touch anything from last night that could be collected for potential evidence. Our apartment is now a crime scene.

My urine tested positive for GHB.

Randy's recent text awakens a violence inside of me that I didn't know existed until now. She will pay dearly for this! I almost left him. Almost gave up on us, believing his drinking had finally become a problem too stressful and painful to constantly battle him on. The thought of finding him with another girl after last night because he was too drunk to comprehend what he was doing nearly drove me to toss all of his belongings out the window.

Are you OK? When do you want to contact the police to file charges against Katie?

I responded back, anxiously waiting for him to walk back out that door so we could go home to have an entirely different discussion from the one we were having earlier. On the way home, Randy can call the police to file a report against Katie. I wonder how long it will take for them to arrive at the apartment to collect evidence and statements from Randy and me.

Good as anyone can be after finding out they've been drugged and taken advantage of. Honestly, I don't know if I'm going to file charges... This is so humiliating.

A tear slid down my face wishing I was back there with him, so I could comfort him. The clinic wouldn't let me stay with him, however, due to the sensitive nature of why Randy is there. Why wouldn't he want to file charges against Katie? Especially after realizing she has likely drugged him multiple times before. I don't press the issue, however, because this is not a conversation to have via text message.

I love you, Randy Turner.

The drive here to the clinic was odd between the two of us. Coming to the very real and scary possibility that Katie had most likely drugged Randy last night to sexually take advantage of him and also in the past, caused Randy to emotionally draw inward. We barely spoke two words to each other while in the car together. When I tried bringing up what we should do if it's proven that he was drugged, Randy held his hand up to me, stopping the conversation in its tracks.

"Stop, please. I can't talk about this until we get the test results."

I didn't press him further after that. It's understandable that he wanted to know for sure before jumping to conclusions or trying to figure out what to do from that point forward. Either he drank far more than he remembers and lost control of himself, or he was drugged and, because of that, couldn't help or stop what happened and was taken advantage of.

The door to the waiting room opens by Randy who is accompanied by a nurse quietly explaining information on several sheets of documents she’s handing him. His demeanor is somber as he stands beside her, nodding his head in response to whatever she's saying. I stood immediately at the sight of sight and waited for her to leave before going to Randy, now walking towards me.

"Hey." I stated, quietly taking his hand in mine. "Are you OK?"

Squeezing my hand back, Randy tips a corner of his mouth up but behaves like he's trying to avoid eye contact with me. "Honestly, I'm not sure." He mutters. "I have to go pick up a couple of prescriptions from the pharmacy."

"For what?" I wondered aloud.

He shook his head, answering with a flat tone. "I'll tell you when we're in the Jeep."

We drove Randy's two-door older model Jeep to the clinic. It's the same vehicle he's had since high school with a four-speed manual transmission and four-wheel drive. He had a lift kit installed along with grippey, over-sized tires a few years ago. Stepping on the side rail, I lifted myself up into the truck and closed the half door. The weather has been pleasant the past few days so we opened up the vinyl top and windows.

The hum of the six-cylinder engine cranking is noisy, a sound that is unique to these older model jeeps, as we drive down the road. I can tell Randy is struggling. His grip on the steering wheel with his left hand is so hard his knuckles are white. Each time he shifts gears, it's done in a particularly aggressive manner and doesn't go unnoticed either. I know he isn't upset with me at all. Whatever happened at the clinic, however, has upset him tremendously.

Sitting with my hands folded in my lap, I'm torn between whether to start up the conversation or wait until he's ready. Thankfully, after only a couple of minutes, Randy begins speaking when we stop at a red light.

“I have to pick up a prescription for antibiotics. It's a two-week dose that may mess with my stomach at first. They prescribed it just in case.”

Just in case he contracted anything from Katie… She is absolutely vile. “An antibiotic? Did they suggest anything to help with your stomach?”

“Yeah. The nurse suggested sticking to light foods and clear liquids for a few days, like toast and oatmeal.” He swallows hard before continuing and shifts the clutch into first gear when the light turns green. “They ran every test available to test for STD's and suggested I wear a condom or avoid sex altogether until I get the results back. All the results will be ready within five to seven days.”

Good thing our actions didn't progress any further earlier while we were in the shower together. “You were wearing a condom last night though, when I…” I can't bring myself to finish saying ‘when I walked in on you and Katie…’ Thankfully he knows what I meant.

“I know, but the doctor said condoms do not offer one hundred percent protection against STD's or for preventing pregnancy. I mean, I already knew that, but since I cannot remember the entire situation between Katie and I, there's no guarantee I wore it the whole time. Besides, I have no idea what we did together…” The last few words he says are gritted out as he slams the stick shift into the next gear. The muscles in his tense jaw tick at the sides.

It's not his fault that Katie drugged him and took advantage of him. I'm still furious that he wasn't more adamant about making her leave though. The situation we are in wouldn't be happening if he had told her to get out of our fucking apartment. He was more concerned about upsetting a friend he had met recently at the bar that I hardly knew, after knowing full well how livid I would be that Katie was allowed to step a foot through our door.

Why does it seem like he always puts our relationship on the back burner? Maybe, hopefully, this will be a wake-up call for him. One bad and ill-thought-out decision has cascaded into a multitude of horrible consequences that are primarily still unknown.

We don't know what her motives were for doing this either. She could have done it for the sick, twisted reason to get back at Randy for dumping her in high school and to cause issues between the two of us. She hated the fact that Randy was dating me in high school after dumping her and would throw herself at him constantly, desperately trying to win him back.

“We could head to the police station after picking up your prescription. It's just a couple of blocks up the road.” I suggested, making sure to keep my tone calm and reassuring.

It takes him several moments to respond and when he does, I find myself biting back a torrent of insults because we've pulled into the pharmacy which is located in a strip mall that's bustling with people.

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to press charges or not. It’s just going to cause a lot of issues all around,” he answered impatiently.

“Not pressing charges could do the same if not worse. She needs to be held accountable for what she did.” I replied, clenching the sides of the seat, trying to keep my rising temper in check.

“This is already humiliating enough, Leslie. I don’t want the whole fucking state of Maine to know I was drugged and sexually taken advantage of.”

“She’s a predator who raped you Randy! Kyra and I are witnesses to it!”

“Yeah I know, and she’s also the daughter of one of the richest men in the state! Do you have any idea what will become of this? Accusing the daughter of a well-known and beloved doctor of giving a guy she’s previously been in a relationship with date rape drugs and taking advantage of him? It will rapidly become a grueling, soul-sucking scandal. I don’t stand a chance in a criminal case against the lawyers her father's money can buy.”

“You don’t know that! If enough incriminating evidence is found against her, all the money in the world for a lawyer won’t matter.” I snapped back, losing control of my volume while spinning around on him in my seat. “Can’t you at least try? What if she’s done this to other guys? Maybe they’ll come forward and speak out against her.”

The warm afternoon sun and gentle sea breeze blowing through the open Jeep does nothing to take away the chill of a growing sense of the unknown and my dwindling hope trickling down my spin.

He snorts with a humorless laugh. “The likelihood of any grown men thinking they’ll be believed by coming forward and admitting they were drugged by a rich, attractive woman who forced herself on them is slim to none. I—, I just need some time to process all of this, Leslie. Can you give me that, please?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I fell back onto the seat with an annoyed huff. “Fine. But please consider the longer you wait, it potentially lessens the chance of her being directly connected to the evidence and your accusation being taken seriously. There’s a good chance that if the police arrested her today, they could search her and her belongings where either they’ll find her in possession of the drug or traces of residue on her or in her belongings. Right now she doesn’t suspect anything and wouldn't see it coming. The element of surprise would greatly benefit everyone involved with tracking her down before she can become suspicious and destroy any incriminating evidence.”

Sighing, Randy turns off the Jeep, pocketing the keys in his cargo shorts pocket. He truly looks into my eyes for the first time since we left the clinic.

“I understand all of that. Really, I do. My hesitation isn't just because of my own anxieties. It's what will most certainly happen to you that I am most concerned about. In these types of cases, the high-profile lawyers she can afford will savagely pit us against each other and dig up the tiniest pieces of information to paint me and anyone in my defense of last night's events in a dark, unstable and untrustworthy manner. I don't want your life ruined and flipped upside down because of my stupidity.” Resting his hand on my thigh with a light squeeze, he opens his door to go inside the pharmacy. “I’ll be right back, and we can discuss this further at home, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” I sighed, quietly turning my face away from him. It's actually not OK though. None of this is OK, and I am absolutely NOT OK!

The pendulum of fate in this dire situation is swinging away from the reason that Randy wound up in bed with Katie last night wasn't because he was behaving like a drunk, irresponsible asshole. For the blade to maintain enough momentum to swing back in the opposite direction where it will slice through lies and expose the truth is only possible by making sure nothing is in the way that could damage or halt it. Randy is the driving force behind the blade, slicing through lies with every swing. A threat looms ahead that can dull or damage the blade the longer it is allowed to continue. Time is the threat, acting as a corrosive rust that will eat through and dull the truth sharpened edge of the blade.