(DISCLAIMER) As the title suggests, this chapter has a rape scene. It may be triggering to you, so read at your own risk! I will insert another disclaimer in the middle of the story where the scene begins if you want to read the dialogue before it.

(Dedication) This is dedicated to PRC, myself, and to all the other women who have had to endure this.

Heather

My dad is nowhere to be found, so I take a moment to watch TV. I've been really into mystery shows recently, so I switch on the new episode of Nancy Drew, a callback to my favorite childhood and early teen year books.

I'm engrossed in the episode, half-way through when the doorbell rings. I flip off the TV, knowing it has to be Kayne coming over to surprise me.

I throw open the door with a huge smile on my face for my sexy detective boyfriend.

Unfortunately, it's not him, but the tall figure of Ryder.

"Hey! Is your dad home?" Ryder asks, trying to look past me as if my dad was standing there, expecting him.

"He's not. He went into work to prepare for this week's caseload. He seems to like his office at home less and less these days." I say with bitterness in my tone. He's home even less than when we lived in Pasadena and mom was there.

"Do you mind if I come in?" He asks.

Approximately 95% of me wants to refuse him, but he might want to ask me about Ali. If he's going out with her, I might feel more comfortable with him. Maybe I can be friends with him like I am with Fletcher, all bad blood left in the past.

"Sure," I say finally, holding the door wider for him to enter. "Would you like something to drink? Sweet tea?"

"No, thanks, sweet-tie," Ryder says in a playful tone. "I would love a tour, though. This house is huge." I lead him through the house giving a half-hearted tour. Afterall, this place isn't really my home and doesn't have the comforts of home that the house in California did.

Finally, we end up in my bedroom. I invite him to sit on the bed, but I make sure to sit at my desk in case he got any wise ideas.

"So, how did things go with Ali?" I ask in a teasing tone.

"Well, she puts out." Ryder says bluntly. I'm taken aback by his rudeness about Ali. I haven't talked to her yet today, but I'm sure she saw it as a different experience.

"I think she really likes you," I say, hoping he catches the hint to be nice.

"Really?" He looks for sincerity in my eyes. I just smile at him and nod. "She's nice and all," he locks my gaze with his, "but she's no you."

Shit.

"Oh. I'm sorry," I say. I don't know why I've apologized, but I've been taken off guard by his comment. "I'm seeing someone, Ryder."

He just nods in response, the hopefulness draining from his eyes.

Ryder changes the subject. "That guy Faulkner was pretty cool. Thanks for introducing me to him. He's going to get me set up selling in town."

"I thought you said my dad was going to get you a job." I ask.

"He is. He's got something lined up at the courthouse, but I have to go through some background checks. I need some cash until that all goes through. Your dad really helped me out by making sure the DUI didn't stay on my record. He really had to pull some high strings to do that. Otherwise I doubt I would be able to get any kind of job in the legal field, even with your dad helping me."

"Ryder, don't you see the cycle you're in? You were caught with alcohol and drugs in your system. Now you're going to risk possession charges. My dad can only help you so much, but you keep risking jail time."

"Heather, you don't know what you're talking about."

I bite my lip, wanting to prove to him that I do know, because my boyfriend is the cop who is going to bust the drug dealers in this town.

"Faulkner is going to hook me up. It's like they have their own lowkey Idaho gang up here. He said if I can sell weed and pills for a while, he'll let me in on the higher product."

"What is that?"

"Heroin. They've been getting it from Mexico and using this town as a checkpoint before smuggling it into Canada," he says. Alarms are going off in my brain as I'm soaking in essential information that I need to tell Kayne. "I could get to travel to Canada and help them sell it there."

"Ryder, these aren't the gangbangers you used to run with in L.A. This is a small town and they certainly don't need heroin here."

"Heather, you don't know what this town needs. You've been here for four months. Faulkner's lived here all this life so he knows the struggles that people face living in middle-of-fuck-knows-where Idaho."

He continues with a sickening tone. "Living in a town like this my whole life, I would put a bullet through my brain. It makes sense that a little bit of heroin could help this town. It's a business, plain and simple."

"But what about the job my dad is going to set you up with?"

"I'll work there until Faulkner trusts me enough to handle the smuggling. I don't want to work in legal forever. It doesn't pay enough." Ironic, I think. Working for the law doesn't pay enough as working against it.

I don't reply to Ryder, so we sit there for a few moments in silence. I can tell that he wants to say something. I'm just not sure I'm ready for whatever it is.

"Faulkner told me you've bought from him before."

I'm stunned. I guess there's no dealer-client privilege in the world of drugs. "W-what?"

"Don't act like you're so innocent, Heather. Using weed and X is dipping your toes in the drug world. You're not selling the stuff, but you're encouraging it. You're no better than Faulkner."

I've had enough by the Faulkner comment. I know he's not comparing me to Faulkner's douchecanoe activities, but I can't help the anger shooting through my veins.

I sit up from my desk chair and open the door wide, gesturing for him to go through it. "Ryder, it's been a pleasure, but I think you need to leave now. You're in my father's house and you're openly talking about throwing away the opportunities he's giving you for a real life."

"Your family isn't so innocent," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I saw your mom recently?"

This strikes a nerve. "What? Where?"

"She was in the same rehab facility with me. I ran into her one time and tried to say hello but she just looked at me with glossy eyes. Didn't say anything at all, she was so out of it. You could take a page out of her book and not run your mouth all the time."

"I've had enough of this, Ryder. I'm asking you nicely to please leave."

"Heather," Ryder's tone is threatening, a growl emerging from his throat. "Sit down and let's talk."

"No! Get out," I reply in the firmest tone I can muster.

"Heather," Ryder starts with the same warning. He looks like he's trying to stay calm, but then he strides towards the door. I think that I've won and he's going to leave me alone.

(DISCLAIMER) Stop reading now!!! if you might be triggered by the sensitive content below.

Instead, he flips the look on the door then stalks towards me, lifting me off the ground and carrying me towards the center of the room.

"Ryder, put me down!" I yell. Ryder puts my feet back on the floor.

His gaze is intense and keeps me from looking away. "You've been avoiding me and I've only wanted to talk," he spits. I see the blood rising in his face.

Against my better judgment, I reply in a snarky voice. "Ok, let's talk then."

"Oh, it's too late for that now," he replies, his voice sending a terrifying feeling through me. I turn away from him to run to the window, but the next thing I know, I'm lying face-first on the bed with the skin over my right shoulder burning in pain. He's hit me, I tell myself.

"No, we can talk. Please, Ryder."

"That's right, baby, beg for it."

"Stop, Ryder!" I kick my legs, but he just grabs both ankles in his hand and pushes them towards my back. "Ow, please stop!" I shout at him, wriggling under his grasp.

He grabs my hands and restrains them with some type of cloth bandana. He then flips me over and settles himself in between my legs, forcing them open. His mouth closes over mine and I do my best to keep it shut. He forces his tongue into my mouth and I bite down, causing him to retract and scream out in pain, recoiling from me.

I try to push myself up, but my arms tied behind my back don't help me. Now, you've pissed him off, Heather. And you can't even make a break for it.

I felt as if I bit down hard enough to cut his tongue clear off, but there was just a little bit of blood coming from it.

"You fucking bitch." Ryder exclaims and resumes his hold over me. He places his left hand over my throat and squeezes. I panic and my eyes plead with him. He sees my vulnerability and releases some of the pressure off my throat, but leaves his hand there, stroking the area he just choked with two fingers.

"Let's make love like we used to. If you cooperate, then I won't have to hold you down like that again." I hesitate answering him, so he squeezes again to make me respond. "Yes, Heather?"

I feel my soul breaking as I squeak out, "No."

"Excuse me?" Ryder asks and squeezes my throat again.

"I said no!" I yell, trying to wriggle from his grasp. It's futile and his body only presses more into me. His hands squeeze tight, keeping their grip as he travels his free hand down from my breasts to the sacred place between my legs. A place he's been to before and worshipped at, but I know it's not going to be like that today.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to convince you," he jeers.

He kisses my mouth, finding no response from me. In response, he drags his lips down my face and begins to bite my neck. I wince in pain but make no sound.

He removes his hand from my neck to tear the tank top from my body. He yanks down my jeans and I wrack my brain, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. As he removes his clothes, he keeps one hand pressed down on my chest to keep me from trying to get up like before.

He continues biting down my chest and after he swirls his tongue around my nipple, he proceeds to bite the skin on my breast hard. I scream and writhe under him again, but he seems only to find pleasure in my response, which I can tell from how he presses against the opening between my legs.

"Just a few love bites, baby." My skin crawls at the pet name. I can't give up though.

"Stop!" I yell. I move around underneath him, trying to kick my legs up to back him away from me. His hand comes down across my face, slapping me with such force, it pricks tears at my eyes. The heat emanates from where his hand struck my cheek.

"Shut up and lie still," he spits.

I don't listen to him, sure that I have to keep fighting or else giving in will be misconstrued as consensual.

Ryder seems to be far from the "asking for consent" stage.

I try to writhe away from him again, kicking my legs up, but they are restrained by my jeans at my ankles and Ryder's hands on my knees. He delivers another slap, just as hard, to the same cheek. I scream out in pain. The second slap stings worse since the skin was already sensitive.

"I said lie still!" He shouts. He resumes his head's movement down until he's at the waistband of my underwear. He traces his finger atop the waistband, which makes my body respond by bucking against him.

"You like that?" I have no control over my body anymore as it betrays me with the familiar motions of sex. My brain is full of fear, but my body responds to his touch as it always used to.

In one movement, he rips my panties off of me and I'm completely exposed to him. He puts his head in between my legs and begins to kiss the skin between my folds. I try to get away, hating the way my body is reacting to his mouth.

"Please, stop." I say again, my eyes overfilled with tears.

"Why would I if you clearly like it so much?" He asks, sticking a finger in me. For the rest of the time, I close my eyes and try to imagine it's over with, as I cry silently. He flips me over so he can do doggie style. His fists drive into my shoulder muscles, which just makes me cry harder.

After roughly having his way with me from behind, he lays down and straddles me on top of him, entering me and thrusting into me. A tear falls from my face and hits his chest, causing him to get angry.

"Stop fucking crying," Ryder says. I can't help more tears from rolling down my face. He replaces his hand on my throat and continues to thrust into me hard, his grip on my throat making it difficult for me to breathe.

Finally, I notice the familiar breathing pattern that means he's about to come. While I'm on top of him, he notices me trying to get off and away from him, but instead holds my hips down and releases his load inside of me. After his breathing returns to normal and he's done enjoying his last few thrusts, he tosses me off of him and onto my stomach beside him. I've gone numb, so I don't move at all.

"Well, that was nice. Just like old times." He positions himself over me and a rush of fear comes over me as if this nightmare isn't going to end and he's going to continue his assault. But, he loosens the restraints on my hands and the pressure of his body leaves mine.

"Sorry that you didn't cum." He says and I lay there, new sobs shaking my body. He leans over and tries to kiss me on the cheek, but I turn away. "We just made love and you're going to act like that? Suit yourself, bitch." He says and I hear him buckle his pants and leave the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

I cry and cry from the physical and emotional pain that I'm feeling. I don't move for what feels like hours. While I lay in the bed, I contemplate whether or not to tell Kayne. He'll probably think it's my fault for letting Ryder in the house and showing him my room.

When I finally get up, I go to the bathroom to shower. Before I get in, I text Kayne to come over, knowing he's the only person who can help me right now. I tell him it's an emergency and get a text back immediately.

Kayne

otw

I let the hot water scald my body, hoping the pain from my skin burning will distract me from the shock of what just happened to me. As each minute goes by, it seems less and less real, as if it was a terrible dream that I woke up from and am beginning to slowly forget.

When my muscles have relaxed enough and I've scrubbed myself raw with my loofa, I turn the water off and wrap up in a towel. I glance in the mirror as I walk out of the bathroom and do a double take.

Holy shit.