A/N: First I need to apologies for the long wait. I have had a lot of things on my mind, but I finally managed to finish this chapter. And I must admit it came out much better than I had expected. I really hope you enjoy this chapter – and if you do, please let me know! Happy reading.
Chapter 5
It's amazing how the world around you keeps going even when your own seems to stand completely still. The street on the other side of the window is buzzing with people who walk around completely oblivious to what is about to happen right next to them. I felt the same way when my grandmother died. In her hospital room time stood still. Nobody said anything, we were all just crying until I physically couldn't cry anymore. Then I walked out of the room and into the hallway where time hadn't even slowed down. It felt absolutely surreal, like it does now.
The diner smells like eggs and waffles. A small whiff of coffee reaches my nose every time a waitress walks past me. I have never been here before, but I like the atmosphere — and if not for the horror awaiting me any minute from now, I could appreciate it a lot more. People are sitting in pure silence eating their breakfast on a quiet Friday morning, reading the newspaper. I wish I could be like that one day. Carefree, and just happy to be alive. I can't remember the last time I felt like that. I reckon it would be good for a change.
But that day is far in the future because for the next hour awaits nothing but torture. How Patton ever agreed to meet with me I will never know. But he did. So, here we are. My legs have been shaking for at good fifteen minutes. I don't like this in the least.
He doesn't deserve a conversation with me. He deserves a slap in the face, but Barba told me I couldn't do that. Instead, I have brought with me a mindset I let go a very long time ago — about the time Kim were still in diapers. I used to call it the "'yes, sir'-attitude". That was how I was raised, what I was taught. Be respectful of the man in the house. And I was. Boy, was I respectful. Right up until I witnessed daddy beating momma to a pulp at five years old. In that moment I learned the truth about men; they are animals, and they don't deserve half of the respect I have to give. But Patton responds well to "yes, sir", and I need him to respond very well today. The cup of coffee I have already ordered for him should prove that.
I look out of the window to see if I can spot some of the officers that have been situated outside. But my eyes stop moving when they reach the door of the diner. My heart stops for a moment, and I have to remind myself to breathe. In through the mouth, out through the mouth — just like Olivia instructed me right before I walked in here.
The footsteps are getting loud. They're strong and powerful like one would imagine from a Deputy Chief. The creaking sound that can be heard just before the foot lifts sends me five years into the past. The son of a bitch still wears those fucking shoes. I want to throw up.
"Well, would you look at that." I hear from behind me, the hairs in the back on my neck lift like spikes on a porcupine. I turn around in my seat. "None other than Amanda Rollins. In the flesh," he pauses and I feel his eyes on me. "What a lovely surprise." He chuckles as he looks me up and down.
Goosebumps cover my entire body. He has no right to ever look at me like that. None at all. "Thank you for meeting me, Chief," I say in the most respectful tone I can manage.
"How do I trust that you're not wearing a wire?"
Skipping the pleasantries? Got it. He really is good. Truly nothing gets past him — except maybe consent.
"Please, do you really think I want my squad to know about this?" He gives me a look of uncertainty, so I continue with the hope that he will fall for my act as easily as he signed my transfer five years ago. "I don't need them in my business, okay. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone," I pause for a second. "Besides, if my boss knew anything about that night, she would probably trust me even less than she already does, so…" I tense my shoulders and point my eyes straight toward his, my hands are hidden under the table so he can't see my white knuckles.
You better hope that was good enough, Amanda.
Our staring competition needs to end before I shoot myself, so I gesture for him to sit down. "Please," my voice drawls more for effect. It worked — he sits down.
He lifts the coffee cup up to meet his lips, his eyes pointed at the dark liquid as he mutters, "You are never going to let that go, are you?"
I reply unfazed. "It would be a lot easier to let go, if there would be just a tiny bit of acknowledgement of involvement from your part."
"My involvement?" He looks quizzically at me.
"Yes… Your involvement." I return the look. I refuse to lose a stand-off with this man. "And don't even try to talk your way out of it, because you and I are the only ones who understand what really happened that night." My pulse is quick now.
He puts the cup down on the table and folds his hands. Then he looks at me like a disappointed father at his irresponsible teenage daughter. "Amanda…," he drawls, "it cannot be healthy for you to carry that resentment around with you forever. It happened five years ago," he smiles at me now. "You need to move on."
He doesn't get to do that. Under no circumstances will he dictate my feelings about this. I am not resentful, I am broken. He was always a genius at twisting the facts to fit his personal motives. I have to try a different approach if I ever want him to be held accountable for his actions.
"You know, I'm actually just still a little confused about everything that went down," I pause. "I feel like it all kind of took on a life of its own, and I would really appreciate it if you could tell me what really happened." Maybe he falls for that, maybe not. I can never tell with this man.
He inspects my face for the smallest twitch as though to decipher if I am telling the truth, or if I am just playing him — which of course I am but he doesn't need to know that. Good thing I mastered my poker face years ago. He seems to be contemplating what to say next, his mouth moving and then closing several times. Then he sighs, "You want me to tell you what happened?" He looks skeptical when he continues, "Because you don't remember?"
I have to be careful how I articulate my next statement. It could make or break this lovely little chat. "Well, because I can't seem to connect the memories in my mind. But mostly because I'm curious about your version of the events. I guess what I'm asking is… did I mean to you what it meant to me?" I finish with a shy smile at the corner of my lips. The way I posed the question can be interpreted in more ways than one — and knowing his ego it might have done the trick.
"Alright," he says. I have to compose myself in order to not seem surprised by the single syllable word. "Where should I start?" He asks.
I smile softly as I nod my head slowly. Our eyes lock as I say, "From the beginning. I think that would be a good place to start. Don't you?" My eyes are challenging but not hard.
He smirks when he answers, "Very well. From the beginning it is."
I release a shaky breath. Here goes nothing.
…
4 days earlier:
"I've got you. You're okay, Amanda." Olivia's hold on me is firm. Strong. I feel safe here in her arms.
"I'm not okay, Olivia!" I try to yell but the sound is muffled by my lips so it only comes out as a whisper. I don't have the energy to scream right now, my body is utterly exhausted. I am exhausted.
"I know, honey. But you will be. I promise you that." Her voice is mushy when she talks. "And we all have your back."
"Well, it sure doesn't feel like it, Olivia!" I explode, retracting from her embrace. These last few days it has felt like my whole world has come crashing down around me. For the longest time I have tried to hold on to the tiniest sliver of hope that this chapter of my life closed when I left Atlanta. "I– I'm sorry, Liv." She doesn't deserve my misplaced rage — it should be reserved for one man, and one man only. But I don't want to talk about this. I don't want Olivia to see me breaking down. Though least of all I want to have a sit down with the man who stole my feeling of safety. Why is that so hard for everyone to understand? "I can't do this." The words come out raspy from all the crying. "I know it's the right thing to do, but Liv… I– Just the thought of having him looking at me. I can't. It makes me sick." I cast my eyes down in embarrassment.
Liv seems composed. Of course, having sixteen years of experience dealing with people who are falling apart helps you stay calm when your colleague is having a literal breakdown in front of you — but it still feels impressive. "I understand."
I wait for her to finish but that is all she says. I look up to meet her soft eyes. "You are not going to tell me to pull myself together and just get it over with?"
"No."
Again, that is all she says, and I don't quite know what to do in this situation. Olivia is usually the good talker in these kinds of situations. Maybe this is actually her being a good talker, Amanda. "Then what?"
"I know how difficult it is to be face-to-face with someone who has hurt you like that– Well, not entirely like that but still…" She trails of as her face takes on a pained expression. It breaks my heart to see Olivia in pain, and the fact that I contributed to that even just a little bit hurts more than anything. I am just about to say something when she continues. "My point is… it sucks. This whole thing sucks, believe me I know that. And I wish that you had never been hurt in that way, Amanda." There are tears in her eyes now. "But you and I both know that you are not going to forgive yourself if Patton gets away with this. Again." As she stresses the last word, she looks me straight in the eyes.
Now it is my turn to get teary-eyed. Because she is right. No matter how much I want to forget what happened to me and just move on like nothing ever happened, I could never live knowing that I let him get away with rape, twice. Exactly, because this is not only about you! I nod slowly, trying to comprehend what is being said. "You're right," I say. "Okay… I'll do it." I take a deep breath. "I'll do it."
Olivia walks toward me, once again reducing the space between us. She places her hands on either side of my face. "And I will be here with you every step of the way, Amanda." Her next statement comes out as a whisper. "You are not on your own."
…
As I wait for him to start talking, I remind myself of what Olivia said that night. I am not on my own no matter how much it may feel like it right now. The peaceful moment is quickly interrupted by the voice of my former chief.
"Your sister was in a lot of trouble, and you came to me for help," he says in all seriousness. His face seems almost worried like he had been so concerned for me in that moment, and once again I'm impressed by his acting skills. Maybe he should have chosen a career in the arts instead of in law enforcement. He would still have been a pig.
"I came to you?" I ask in disbelief, careful not to let it seep through to my words. "I'm not sure– I don't remember that I was the one who approached you." I inspect his face, looking for any sign that he is about to shut the conversation down. But he remains calm.
He takes a slow sip of his coffee, then he looks up. "I believe that is a minor detail, Amanda. The important thing is that we came to an agreement together. It hurt me to see you in pain and I wanted to help in any way that I could." He puts his hand on top of mine. I almost flinch at the unwelcome touch but manage to stop myself. "Fortunately, it all worked out in the end, right?" He winks at me then.
"Right," I whisper. I am not sure if he is planning to discuss what went on in the motel room, so in a millisecond I decide to initiate that part of this conversation. At this point I will do anything to get this over and done with, quickly. "Patton, I really wanted to talk about what happened at the motel that night." I look at him cautiously.
"Hold on, sweetheart. We'll get to that," he says. "But first I need you to explain to me where this newly discovered urge to suddenly reflect on the past has come from."
Woah, where did that come from. His stare has turned ice cold within a second, and if I hadn't already expected that to happen at some point during this conversation, I probably would have crawled into a ball. Luckily, I have rehearsed the answer to this specific question in my head right before he arrived. Let's go, Mandy. "I guess everything that has happened with Reese," I pause. "It all seemed so similar to what happened between me and you." I look him in the eyes. "The motel room, the drinking, the bitemarks. I just need to hear you explain your side of it. So, that I can finally move on. Because you're right. It's time to get on with my life."
I don't know what to make of his expression. The man really should have gotten into acting. He bows his head, cradling the coffee cup. My fingers are digging into my thighs, the silence growing more than I would like it to. "Alright, I suppose that is a fair answer."
"Good," I say, relieved.
He takes a breath. "We decided to meet up at a motel down the street from the station." I decide to let the 'we' comment slide, but only because I need him to keep digging his own grave. "You were scared that the owner would talk, but I assured you that he wouldn't, because–"
"You and him were good friends," I interject. My thoughts drift to that night but I can't let myself get caught in a flashback right now, so I force myself back to the current moment.
"Exactly." He nods, confirming. "It calmed you down enough. And after work you went home to get ready while I reserved a room."
"You were drunk when I got there," I state matter-of-factly,
"Can you blame me?" I don't follow. He sees that and clarifies. "I mean, it's not every day you get to be with such a fine piece of… woman." He looks me up and down. Asshole. "But I will admit the alcohol did affect some of my memories from that night." That's convenient. He takes another sip of coffee. "Why don't you tell me what you remember? Maybe it will trigger my recollection." The smirk on his lips makes me want to punch him.
I have lost all patience by now. His beating around the bush is ending this instant. "I remember telling you to slow down, and then you didn't. That's what I remember."
"I couldn't slow down, Amanda," he scoffs. "Otherwise, how would I get my payment for helping your sister out of federal charges."
"Your payment?"
"You know what I mean." He looks guilty now, like he knows he just messed up.
"Yes, I do. I know exactly what you mean," I say. It gets harder to contain the anger I feel toward this person in front of me. He might not have realized it just yet, but he just admitted solicitation. I would have thought this small victory would make me feel good. But it doesn't. It only makes me feel cheap — because I was just payment. Nothing more. "Do you remember what you said after that?"
"I do," he grins. For a moment I think that he is actually going to confess, but the hope is short lived. "Vaguely, of course." Another wink shoots my way.
"Of course." I smile, not even attempting to downplay its fakeness. "Let me refresh your memory, then. You said, and I quote: 'Amanda… you know I don't take no for an answer'." I shiver as the mental image of him on top of me attacks my visual field.
He's scoffs again, almost in disbelief. "Yeah, and I really thought that you did. You didn't have to make it more difficult than it needed to be. We could have gotten it over with much faster if you had not resisted. It's not my fault that you had to start complaining."
He must have really believed me when I told him I wasn't wearing a wire, because there is absolutely no way he would ever have confessed to all of this. "You had sex with me even after I told you to stop."
"You didn't say 'stop', Amanda. You said, 'slow down'," he argues. But it doesn't matter, I have him right where I want him now. "And I just kept going because I knew what was in your best interest. You clearly didn't at that moment."
Gotcha.
"Do you know what I call that, Patton?" I ask quietly. I finally release my fingers from the prison my hands have created around them, and all the tension in my body disappears immediately. It feels like I am about to check mate him.
"What?" He sighs.
I place my locked hands on the table as I lean in toward him. "I call that 'rape'."
He stares at me in what I can only interpret as shock. "Oh, for goodness' sake." He laughs. The staring contest is officially back on, and this time I feel much stronger. "You're serious?" He asks, but I don't answer. He doesn't deserve another word from me. "Please, don't embarrass yourself with this nonsense, Rollins. It's not a good look on you." He pushes the coffee cup away as he rises from the chair. "Anyway, I think this is where we finish our conversation." He looks at me with more disgust than I have ever seen on a person's face. "And good luck proving to anyone that I raped you. I already told you; no one will believe you."
"Oh, that's where you are very wrong." We are interrupted by an authoritative voice. I have been so focused on Patton that I haven't even registered Olivia enter the diner. Behind her stands Chief Dodds and Barba, both with victorious grins plastered across their faces. She doesn't say anything else; she just gives him one of her famous stares — one that usually makes perps squirm. I observe a slim change in posture from my former Chief, the confidence he felt only a second ago is no longer anywhere to be seen. She truly has a gift.
Barba steps forward now. "Chief Patton," he exclaims enthusiastically. "I would like to personally thank you for providing the last piece of evidence I needed." Then his grin turns into a full-blown smile. "I look forward to seeing you in the courtroom. Greet Mr. Buchanan for me, will you?" He pats Patton on the arm, turns around, and walks out into the street, Dodds right behind him.
"Come on, Amanda. Let's get you out of here." Olivia stretches her arm out to me.
I look at Patton one last time before I walk over to her. Five years ago, I had been so sure that he had gotten away with it for good. Until he came to New York I had actually believed that no one would ever believe what he had done to me. I had adapted, because that was the only thing I could do to not be swallowed whole by the pain forced upon me — I had learned how to live with it by not acknowledging that it had even happened in the first place. But now. Right here in this moment, the suffering of all of those lost years has vanished completely. When I reach her, Olivia places her arm across my shoulders and guides me out the door.
"Are you okay?" She asks carefully when we are situated in the car.
"Yes, actually I am." I look at her, and for the first time in a long time I manage to produce a genuine smile. "It went better than I ever could have imagined. It's like I'm lighter right now than I have been for the past five years."
She nods her head. "That's how closure feels," she says softly.
"Yeah. It feels good." And it really does.
"I'm so proud of you, Amanda. What you just did in there…" She pauses. "It was amazing."
"Couldn't have done it without you, Liv," I say. We look at each other for a few seconds. Then I turn my gaze toward the people next to one of the other cars. "Barba's a badass." Olivia laughs beside me. "Who knew?"