AN: For those who would like me to make my chapters longer, I'm sorry. Short chapters keep my muse going.
Thank you to everyone saying nice things. I didn't call out those leaving less than pleasant reviews because I wanted my ego fluffed. I just wanted those people to think about what they were actually saying and implying. I'll keep writing for now.
I'm not sure if I'll be able to update like I have been tomorrow and the next couple of days. I'll be heading home (safely) for Christmas tomorrow night and I have no idea what my family has in store. I will be writing though.
Thank you.
She was doing the one thing she'd promised herself she wouldn't do when learning that Fitzgerald Grant was her new associate; she allowed him to run her out of her job. After her run in with him that morning, staying in her office was impossible. He'd invaded her space, confronted her, and for the second time in the two weeks since he'd started, thrown her for a loop. He'd driven her from work that morning, unable to even be in the same building with him. How dare he suggest she'd used him to get to Ballard, of all people; not only that, but Fitz was using that as justification for handing her over? For offering her up on a plush pillow top platter?
God she was going to be sick.
How dare he insinuate she had a thing for Jake? Even before he'd forced himself on her, she couldn't stand him. He was pompous, presumptive, and arrogant in an unforgiving way. She refused to ever give him the time of day for anything other than a sardonic response. He was the epitome of a trust fund kid with a silver spoon stuck to his tongue. He'd made more than enough overtures in her direction, each falling by the wayside. Jake, simply put, wasn't her type. The one time she'd shown him any affection had been a high-five post a mock court win.
Olivia slammed down her knuckles on the hardwood door in front of her, knocking as if her life depended upon it. Her brain hadn't known where to go, but apparently her feet had. She wasn't sure what she was doing here, at Curtis's apartment, but was hopeful that Curtis would be home. They'd never fully moved in together; just shared space in each other's place. Right now, though, she needed him. She needed to see his face and to feel like she was in control. Soon her knocking turned into desperate banging. Hand flat against the door, she couldn't stop the tears as they dripped down her cheeks. Finally the door swung open. Her hand accidentally connected with Curtis's face.
"Fuck, Olivia," he gasped.
She looked at him through bleary eyes. "I didn't — I'm sorry. I'm…"
"What happened?" Curtis asked, ushering her in. "Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?"
Olivia ignored his question. She grabbed his shirt and tugged him close, pressing her lips to his, hard. Her kiss was aggressive, pointed. Her hands reached for the band of his pants and she realized he was wearing gym shorts. Even better. She tugged on the tie holding his shorts up, her body on autopilot. All she needed was to get that night out of her head. To stop reliving it each time she closed her eyes. It'd taken two and a half years for her to stop thinking about it, to replace Jake's touch and the feel of his skin on hers with someone who she wanted. Now she felt like she was back at square one. She didn't want Curtis, she wanted to feel in control, and this was how.
"No," Curtis muttered in between Olivia nipping at his mouth. "Liv, please. I need you to talk. I need you to talk to me." He managed to get a hold of her wrists and pushed away, holding her at arms' length.
She shook her head, trying to take a step forward. "I don't want to talk. I just want to forget. I want to stop feeling him on my skin. Please," she cried. "I trust you - you won't hurt me. Please just touch me so he isn't the last thing I feel," Olivia demanded through clenched teeth.
"He?" Curtis asked. "What happened?"
"Jake."
"Who's Jake?"
"He's the one who raped me. He's on my skin again. I can't get him out. I can't get him off of me. Please, just help me. I know you don't want me, but I it's the only way I can wipe him away. It's the only—"
"Did you see him again? Is he around? I'll rip his goddamn throat out. Right now. Just tell me where he is."
"I don't know." The fight in Olivia deflated. She fell against Curtis's chest and cried into shirt, the tepid smell of sweat tickling her nose.
You cheered your buddy on as he raped me.
Your buddy…
He raped me.
Fitz rubbed his temples. It was still impossible to fill his lungs with enough air to rival what had been knocked out of him by Olivia's revelation. He turned it over in his head. She'd been raped. What he'd walked in on was rape? Fuck. Why couldn't he remember Halloween as a 1L? He was trying so fucking hard to sort it through in his head and the last thing he remember for certain was Mellie handing him a beer, stumbling up the stairs with her on his arm, and accidentally running into . . .
Jake wouldn't have done that, would he? They'd been friends their entire lives. Hell, he was Karen's godfather. He could never hurt someone like that, could he? It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense any more. He dug his elbows into his desk. Eyes closed, he forced himself to retrace his steps. Pushing through more than two-thousand days worth of memories was proving futile. He remembered being with Olivia. They'd been inseparable. They'd fallen together with ease after being introduced at orientation. She was tiny yet fierce. She didn't take anyone's shit, let alone his. Sure Fitz hadn't walked in like he owned the building, but carrying the Grant name had given him an air of arrogance. The chip on his shoulder showed up in everything he'd done. It was all in spite of his father, in spite of his name, and Olivia had him pegged from the start. She saw through him when all anyone else saw was his name. And it drove Mellie crazy. He and Mellie had been on and off since grade school, nearly promised to one another by their parents. Much like Fitz, she was good political stock. A good name to bill on a White House ticket. He'd cut things off with Mellie several times and when he'd finally told her that he was falling in love with Olivia, he thought she'd taken it well. When he'd tucked his tail back between his legs after finding out Olivia had slept with Jake, Mellie had greeted him with open arms.
"Where's Olivia?" his office door banged open. The redhead — Abigail— who always seemed to tail behind Olivia now stood in front of him.
"I don't know."
"What did you say to her? Mariana said she didn't even bother to clear her calendar or tell anyone she was taking off. She bolted like a bat out of hell. What did you say to her?" Abby's hands slammed down on his desk. She stood, green eyes boring into his.
"What do you know about Halloween?" he asked. Any fight or defense in his voice was gone. He was genuinely asking for an olive branch. "What has she said to you?"
"It isn't my place to tell her story," Abby answered.
"I don't remember what happened that night. I have the story I was told. I have fragments in my head. I don't know what to do with them." His voice grew thick, heavy with the promise of tears. "All I know is that she was hurt and I didn't do anything to stop it. She thinks I encouraged it and if she's telling the truth —"
Abby scoffed. "If?"
"I've known the person she says hurt her my entire life. I don't want to think he did this."
"So you think she left the school she had to claw and fight her way into, where she was probably one of ten Black women? Because of what?"
"Jake said he rejected her and —"
"Oh shut the full fuck up and think. I know you've known him longer, but you're insane if you think Olivia would ever lie about something like this. I have never met anyone like Olivia in my life. She keeps her word always. I would go over a cliff for her, if she asked me to." Abby's chest heaved and Fitz studied her face, looking for any sign that she doubted Olivia.
"I need to talk to her. I need to understand what's going on in her head, but she won't even let me even get five feet close to her."
"You're telling the truth," Abby said. He watched as her eyes moved around his office and then over him. "I can feel it in my gut. You really don't know why she wants to stick you in a wood chipper."
Fitz shuddered at the image Abby painted for him. He sighed and leaned his elbows on his desk, shaking his head. "Please, help me."
"She thinks —" Abby started, pausing to sit in the chair across from his desk. Her voice dropped. "That you set Jake up to rape her."
"What?" he shouted. "I have a daughter. I would never! I want to talk to her now!" Fitz jumped to his feet.
Abby leaned back in his chair, looking up at him. Fitz swore she almost flinched. "And you think that's how you're going to get to talk to her? Throwing a fit and demanding it?"
Fitz's fists balled against the desk and he eyed her with contempt, but that soon faded away. The anger at Abigail's accusations soon began to fade away. What was left behind was feelings of empty and shame. He didn't do that. He didn't hurt her like that. He didn't — and so help God, he didn't want to believe Jake had either.
"Will you please find Olivia so that I can talk to her," he asked, finally, His head bowed and he sat slowly. "Please. I just need to know what happened. From her."
"You'll have to do it with me there. I'm not leaving her alone with you."
Her hair hung in wet curls, framing her bare face like a halo. She sat in Curtis's sweats, legs curled underneath her on her couch. Somehow, he'd been able to calm her down. Between hysterical pleas for him to sleep to her to just outright sobbing, he'd calmed her down. She loved that about Curtis. He was safe. Sound. Simple. Even if he was right; she didn't love him. Not the way he needed and deserved to be loved, but she did love his safety.
"Hot chamomile, one ice cube to make it cool enough to drink but still keep it hot enough to hold and a honey stick," Curtis said as he handed her a Georgetown mug. "I'll be here tonight. I'll sleep on the couch."
"Will you sleep in bed with me, please?" She hated how desperate her voice sounded. She hated how weak she was being.
"Liv, we're not...I care about you. I love you, but this isn't us getting back together. This is me taking care of the one who one day I'll get to knock back a drink over and say that 'she got away.'" Curtis smiled.
Olivia stared at his dark eyes. They were large and round, sparkling in the warm light of her apartment. He really was beautiful. Tall. Athletic. Sun-kissed skin and a soothing voice. She wished she loved him the way she wanted to.
"Lo entiendes, nena?" he asked.
"Por supuesto. Thank you for not freaking out earlier. I don't know what happened. I don't even know how I got to your apartment. I was just. I was on autopilot."
"You know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he whispered. "Do you want to tell me what made you think about this Jake? What brought on that breakdown today? Did someone do something to you?"
Olivia held the mug close. She watched as the ice cube dissipated and the honey stick melted. She didn't want to talk about it again. She didn't want to go back to work, she didn't want to exist right now. All she wanted was to go back to pretending it never happened. "The guy who —"
Her words were cut off by a swift knock. "Olivia. If you're in there, Liv, please say something!" Abby's voice cut through the aluminum of her apartment door. "Come on, Liv. You aren't answering your phone and you're scaring the shit out of me."
Shit, she hadn't thought about Abby once today. She'd seen Abby's calls come in and hadn't even thought to answer them. Her mind was preoccupied with keeping it all together.
"I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you about Grant."
The hair on the back of Olivia's neck rose at the mention of Fitz. Her eyes slipped closed and she shook her head. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to hear anything else he had to say. He was a fucking liar and she was ready to start looking for a new job. Maybe even a new city at this point. "I don't want to talk about him!" Olivia shouted back.
"OLIVIA! You're okay!" Came Abby's muffled response. "I'm just glad to hear your voice. Please let me in. Please."
"Want me to let in, Liv?" Curtis asked.
Olivia nodded and watched as Curtis walked to the door. He opened to an anxious Abby.
"I've never been so happy to see you in my life. Mariana said you ran out this morning. You should've come to me. I would've let — Curtis." Abby stopped mid sentence, purse swinging idly from her arm. "Should I leave?" she asked.
"No. It's fine. I just didn't know where else to go earlier and Curtis helped me get home."
Curtis offered up a tight smile and then shut Olivia's door. He sat down on the chair across from the couch. "Who's Grant?" he asked.
"Uhm...he's this jerk we work with. It's nothing, really."
Olivia eyed her friend with a raised eyebrow. Abby was an awful liar. "What's going on?" she leveled her red-headed friend with a pointed stare. "What about it? Did he fall down some steps? Hopefully got hit by a bus?"
"He wants to talk about what happened and I think you should listen to him."
Olivia's jaw hardened. Her eyes narrowed. "I don't want to hear a thing he has to say and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't talk about me with him. Now. Get. Out."
"No, Liv. I know you're mad, but I think you might want to hear what he has to say."