-HINDLEY-
When I returned to the living room, Paul was pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked downtown Austin. One hand gripped the back of his neck, the other was clenched by his side.
My mother sat on the large sofa, her head in her hands as her shoulders shook.
Shit. This was really bad.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Their heads turned and they stared at me, eyes wide, and worried.
My mother stood and raced toward me, yanking me into a tight embrace. “Oh, God, Hindley,” she moaned.
Before I could ask anymore questions, Paul was on top of us, his arms wrapped around both me and my mother.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my breathing labored from the pressure of their embrace. “Did someone die?”
They both backed away, shaking their heads, neither one returning my gaze.
“Just tell me already,” I said. “I’m sick with worry.”
“Sit.” Paul extended his hand toward the sofa.
“I think I’d rather stand.”
Paul returned to the window, staring out aimlessly as Dana came to stand beside me. She wrapped a supportive arm around my waist and tugged tight. I knew in that moment that what they had to tell me could very well destroy me.
“Paul,” I whispered.
He turned to face me, his expression weary and forlorn. “You may have heard that the authorities believe Rory was drugged the night he berated you.”
I nodded. “Yes. And?”
“The police suspected someone within the hotel, an employee.”
“Yes, I know already. Dana told me.”
“It was Rohypnol,” he said.
“I know that too.”
My mother’s head jerked up and she stared at me. “You do?”
I nodded.
“Rohypnol has different effects on different people,” Paul said. “It’s also intensified when ingested with other drugs.”
My chest seized with pain. “Is Rory using drugs again?” If he was, then all hope for us being together again truly was lost.
“No, he’s not using drugs,” Paul said. “Not to my knowledge, anyway.”
Oh, thank God.
“But he did take the herbal supplements from Luis,” Paul continued, “and medical experts think those heightened the effect of the Rohypnol.”
“So you’re saying his actions really weren’t his own?” After watching Paloma’s show late last night, this was no surprise, but still I was thankful Paul and my mother were trying to clear Rory’s name.
“That’s right.” Paul nodded. “He was literally out of his mind that night, Hindley.”
“Why do you care? I thought you didn’t like him, that he was beneath you.”
“Why would you ever say that, Hindley?” my mother asked.
I stared down at her, surprised to see her brows furrowed in confusion.
“That night at dinner,” I said, “you went on and on about how important college was, and—”
“That’s really what you thought?” Paul interrupted, his eyes wide, mouth turned down in a grimace.
My mother stood and placed her hands on my shoulders, her green eyes searching mine. “Oh, Hindley,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut and pulling me in tight.
The hairs on my neck stood up. This was bad. Really bad.
“What is going on?” I said with more agitation than I’d meant. I pushed her away, needing to know the truth. “What are you guys saying?”
My mother’s eyes fluttered open, her expression softening. “What we’re saying is,” she paused and I wanted to slap the answer out of her.
“Just say it, please.”
“Rory has no recollection of the night,” she said. “He truly doesn’t remember because that’s the effect the drug has on people.”
I remembered my own experience with a similar drug Donald Lee Westbank had given me. The drug had rendered me helpless to his attacks, and wiped away any memories I might have had of the awful assaults.
“So why are you telling me all of this?” I asked. “You want me to forgive Rory, excuse his behavior?” My breathing grew shallow as I searched around the room.
My mother stepped forward. “That’s not—”
“He fucked Geneva, for God’s sake.”
My mother winced.
“Please don’t tell me you’re taking his side too.” I stormed around the sofa to the window on the opposite side of the condo.
Downtown Austin was quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The weekday buzz of the worker bees had been replaced with a handful of young, rich hipsters seeking an afternoon of music and mayhem. I envied them.
“Geneva came to us last night,” my mother said.
I turned, garnering all my inner strength. “And I care because?” I asked.
“Stan brought her to our house last night and forced her to talk to us,” Paul said, tears welling in his eyes.
“You haven’t talked to her since Miami?”
“No,” Paul said in a clipped tone.
“She tried to call, but Paul and I refused. Until yesterday.” My mother had drawn a line and for once, she appeared to be on my side.
“So what did she say?”
My mother drew in a deep breath.
“No, please. Forget it.” I waved my hand in the air. “I don’t want to hear anymore.” It was one thing to know Geneva and Rory had had sex, I didn’t need to hear the sordid details from my mother.
“It’s not like that, Hindley,” she said, walking toward me and cupping my face. “Not at all.”
I stared into her beautiful green eyes that were now filled with fear and remorse. For the first time in my life, my mother looked less than perfect. She looked…broken and destroyed. Like me.
“I love you, Hindley,” she whispered. “I’ll always love you. It’s not about taking sides, it’s about being there for one another.”
“So, let me guess.” I jerked my head from her grasp. “Geneva came over to cry on your shoulder about how she fucked my boyfriend, and you and Paul gave her the benefit of the doubt and welcomed her back with open arms.”
She shook her head, her expression blank. “No, Hindley. That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“Please, come sit down.” She motioned toward the couch.
Feeling light-headed and nauseous, I decided sitting sounded like a good idea. I fell into one of the oversized chairs, needing distance.
My mother sat down on the sofa, reaching out to take hold of my hand.
Realizing I may need her support, I didn’t fight her. Instead I clutched at her hand like a small child.
“Geneva has always been jealous of you, Hindley,” my mother said. “I thought it would fade and you two would become sisters, but as the years progressed, her loathing of you grew stronger.”
That was an understatement, I wanted to say.
She scooted closer. “I was naive, never wanting to believe Geneva could be so nasty and vindictive toward you. For that, I’m truly sorry. I thought if I just showed her enough motherly affection and love, one day she’d come around and we could all get along and be one happy family like we’d always dreamed of.”
“But?”
“But this time, she’s gone too far.”
I cocked a brow. “You think? Sleeping with my boyfriend definitely upped her game?”
“It’s worse than that, Hindley,” she said.
“How could it be worse?” I snorted. “Is she pregnant?”
“That would be impossible. Well, at least not with Rory’s baby,” she added.
“Yes, I know. Rory’s quite the little Boy Scout when it comes to contraception. Always prepared.” I laughed sarcastically.
“They never had sex, Hindley,” she said quietly.
My head lurched back and I stared at her like she had two heads. “Of course they had sex. I saw them.”
“You didn’t actually see them,” she said.
“I didn’t have to. Their clothes were scattered everywhere and they were nearly naked when I walked in.”
“That’s why Geneva came over last night,” she said, ignoring my statement.
“Why?”
“To tell us.”
I jerked my hand from hers. “And let me guess, you believed her over me? Even though you know she’s a lying, manipulative little bitch, you’re still taking her side.”
My mother folded her hands in her lap, watching me with eyes filled with sorrow.
I sat back into the chair, deciding to play along. I’d never seen that look on my mother’s face before. “So, what happened?”
My mother stared down at her lap, toying with the hem of her shirt. “Geneva was the one who provided the drugs to the hotel employee with instructions to give it to Rory.”
What the—
I blew out a heavy breath, unable to process what my mother had just said. I knew she was evil but this went beyond anything I ever thought she was capable of.
“She knew Rory didn’t drink and she wanted to seduce him,” my mother said. “Apparently, he’d brushed off her advances several times that day and it pissed her off. She’s used to getting any man she wants, especially if that man wants you.” She lifted her head and stared at me. “When Rory denied her, her hatred for you escalated, and she put her plan into motion.”
This could not be happening. This couldn’t be true. Not even Geneva could be this malicious, could she?
“She thought if she gave him the drug, he’d have no choice but to sleep with her,” my mother continued. “She bribed the boy from the hotel with money to have him put the drug in Rory’s pudding. Then she said she gave the boy more money to let her into Rory’s room. She was waiting for Rory when he got back from his tirade with you.” My mother’s chin quivered.
I glanced over at Paul. He was gripping the glass wall with both hands, his head hung low, shoulders slumped. I’d never seen him look so devastated.
My mother swallowed hard, steeling herself. “She said Rory didn’t even know she was in the room when he came in and stripped down in the entryway. She tried to get his attention but he brushed by her, making a beeline to the bedroom. She tried to stop him, putting herself between him and the bedroom door. Apparently, she was totally nude.”
A hiccup of a sob echoed in the room. I stared over at Paul again. One hand covered his mouth as his shoulders shook.
“When Rory finally realized who she was and that she was in his room, he became belligerent, like a crazy person. She said she feared for her own safety.” My mother sat ramrod straight, all emotion from her usually animated face wiped away. There was no way she would condone Geneva’s behavior, ever again. The thought pleased me more than I realized it would.
“Shit,” I said on a heavy exhale, my head falling back onto the chair. Of all the things I thought Geneva was capable of, I’d never seen this one coming. I was too shocked to even be pissed.
Since I’d caught the two of them together in Rory’s hotel room, it had never once occurred to me that he hadn’t slept with her. He was a known player of the worst kind. Of course I’d believed he’d screwed her. But now? For the first time in over two weeks, there was hope.
I raised my head and stared at my mother. “What happened next?”
“She said Rory cried and moaned about hurting you, about losing you, about pushing you away. It only pissed her off more to see how much he loved you. She said it was obvious he would never sleep with her. But, she still tried.”
Damn, the girl was brazen. Way more manipulative than I’d ever given her credit for.
“Instead, he pushed her off and told her to get out of his room before he called security. She said he went into his bedroom and locked the door, and that was the last time she saw him until he came out the next morning when you showed up.”
“So he never slept with her?” The desperation in my voice was embarrassing.
My mother shook her head.
“And he never wanted to?” I searched her face.
“He never wanted to, sweetheart. Never would.”
Could all this be true? Had Geneva told my mother and Paul the truth? Suddenly I was filled with hope.
“How could he be with anyone else, Hindley?” she asked. “He’s so in love with you.”
My mother loved Paul with everything inside her. They were soul mates. If anyone would recognize true love, it would be Caroline Hagen-Barton.
“Do you really think so, Mom? I mean, that he would never want to be with anyone else?” The idea astounded me.
“Hindley, I know so. Paul and I adore Rory. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. You’ve come alive since you’ve met him. He’s given you courage to be the real you. You have purpose again when you’re with him.”
My emotions were all over the map. I’d gone from depressed and desperate an hour ago to elated and euphoric.
Rory hadn’t slept with Geneva. He had been drugged and was out of his mind and really didn’t remember anything.
I had to call him. I had to see him. Now.
I jumped up from the chair, bolting for the phone.
“Wait!” Paul called out.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“There’s more,” he said.
Oh, God. My body trembled at his words. He’d delivered the same sentence years ago just before telling me about the videos of me and Donald Lee Westbank. It seemed that my life would never end with a happily ever after.
“Sit back down,” he said.
I stared at him in disbelief, wrapping my arms around me for support.
“Please, Hindley,” he whispered.
I surveyed the three pairs of eyes locked on me. They were wide and filled with fear. For me. I sat back in the chair and tried, as best I could, to prepare myself for the worst.
“What is it, Paul?” I asked quietly, not really sure if I wanted to know.
He glanced at my mother and she nodded.
Shit.
“It’s about your tapes,” Paul said flatly.
I swallowed hard. “What tapes?” I asked, praying he wasn’t talking about the tapes no one except me and the Dallas police detectives had seen.
Paul stared at my mother as if she held the answer.
“Paul,” I repeated. “What tapes?”
He cleared his throat. “The tapes from your apartment.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest, a sharp buzzing noise ringing in my ears. I steadied my breath, willing my heartbeat to slow. “The tapes of me showering and dressing and sleeping?” I asked. I prayed he didn’t know about the other videos, but something inside me warned me.
He stared at me for a long moment before his head fell.
How had they found them? Had Rory told them? Why would he do that? Questions flew through my head. Any hope I’d had of Rory and me reconciling suddenly evaporated into thin air.
Dana came and knelt at my feet, placing a reassuring hand on my knee.
I stared straight at Paul whose head was still bent. “What videos, Paul?” I asked again.
He lifted his head and stared straight at me, his eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed. “No, sweetheart. Not those.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist and fought for breath. All my worst fears had come true. The three people I loved most in the world knew that Donald Lee Westbank had raped me. I just prayed none of them had seen the tapes.
My mother choked out a sob, bending over and burying her face in her hands.
Paul’s eyes brimmed with tears and his chin quivered. He stared at me with such fatherly love and concern that it nearly broke my heart.
“Why didn’t you tell us, Hindley?” Dana asked.
I stared down at her, still not comprehending what they were telling me.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her face flushed red. “Why didn’t you tell us what that bastard had done to you?”
“I couldn’t,” I whispered. Tears warmed my cheeks. “I just…couldn’t.”
My mother surged toward me and took me in her arms.
Suddenly, I realized how much I needed her.
“Oh, darling,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, so very, very sorry,” she stuttered, her hands roaming up and down my back. “You’ve dealt with this all these years, all alone and we…”
“There’s more, Hindley.” Paul’s voice broke through the room.
My blood ran ice cold, chilling me to the bone.
My mother scooted me over and sat beside me, her arm still clutched around my waist.
I stared at Paul, bracing myself for what was about to come next. As if knowing I’d need more strength, Dana clutched my leg, resting her cheek on my leg.
I squeezed my mother’s hand. “What is it?” I asked quietly.
He walked to the coffee table directly across from me and sat down. He rested his elbows on his legs, his head falling into his hands.
Bile rose in my throat, choking me. I couldn’t take much more.
“Tell me, Paul!”
He lifted his head, his eyes hollowed and dark as he held my gaze. “The tapes got out.” His words were like knives to my soul.
My body felt like I’d been electrocuted, hit with a thousand volts of electricity. I shook uncontrollably, unable to breathe. This must be exactly what a fish out of water felt like when faced with its own impending death.
“What do you mean, got out?” I asked, pain coursing through my body.
“Someone found the tapes and they’ve published them,” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
“Published them where?” I shook my head, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“They’re on the Internet, Hindley,” he said.
The Internet?
I gasped, slapping my hand over my mouth. “No,” I choked out, shaking my head.
My mind raced through all kinds of scenarios. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as they suspected. Maybe it was only on a few sites. Maybe we could have the websites taken down.
Paul remained stoic but I saw the anguish in his face. There was more.
“What else, Paul?”
My mother clutched me, squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe as she worked to silence her own sobs.
“Someone’s taken the videos and spliced them together,” he said.
I glanced around at everyone. “I don’t understand.”
Tears streamed down Paul’s face and he reached for me.
Dana’s muffled sobs echoed beside me.
I was going to be sick.
Paul wiped at his face with his palms. “They’ve taken the videos and reworked them, dubbing in music and sounds.”
“And?” I still wasn’t comprehending what he was saying. My mind was racing, trying to piece together what was going on.
Paul clenched and unclenched his jaw several times. “They’ve made it look like a porno movie, Hindley.”
The room began to spin and my stomach lurched in protest. I slammed my eyes shut, trying to stave off vomiting. “I have to get up.” I tugged myself free of my mother and Dana’s death grip.
Reluctantly they released me.
I bolted down the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind me, locking it for some unconscious reason. I sunk down to my knees in front of the toilet, expelling everything inside me. After several minutes of dry heaving, I sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth, trying to catch my breath.
I wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to run, but I was paralyzed, glued to the floor. What was I going to do? The videos were on public display, available twenty-four seven to the entire world via the Internet. Not only that, but now someone had made me look like I was a willing participant.
Images of the disgusting videos ran through my mind.
Me, lying on the bed without pants on, my shirt pushed up to expose my naked breasts as he pumped into me over and over.
Me, face down on the sofa, completely naked as he covered my body with his own, grinding into my backside.
Me, on the floor of my living room, semi-conscious as his penis rubbed over my face, my neck, my breasts.
Oh, God.
I crawled back to the toilet and heaved more, nothing coming.
Everyone in the world was going to see the sordid images of me and Donald Lee Westbank. My heart beat so hard I feared I may actually have a heart attack right here on the bathroom floor.
I slumped back against the wall, trying to collect my thoughts. I needed a game plan, an attack, a way out of this hell I was in.
“Hindley,” my mom called through the door.
I stood, grabbing the edge of the sink for stability, and stared at the image in the mirror.
Well, well, well, who do we have here?
I recognized the voice in my head. Rory wasn’t the only one with a dark side.
If it isn’t little miss perfect. Long time no see, Hinny Bin.
My image morphed into a person I rarely saw anymore. Her skin was paler, her eyes darker. To most we were one in the same. But I knew the difference.
This was the persona I’d created to protect myself during the darkest times of my life.
This was dark Hindley.
The girl who would take care of me when I was too weak.
I knew better than to let her take control anymore but today I couldn’t fight her. I needed her. My world was spinning out of control and she was the only person who could save me now.
I told you you couldn’t keep ignoring me forever without something bad happening. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.
“No,” I whispered, trying to fight her off.
“Hindley, open the door,” my mother begged.
You don’t really think they give a shit about you, do you? All they care about is their own image. Caroline Hagen-Barton, mother of a porn star? Please. No one cares about you. Only I do. I’m the only one who can protect you. Don’t you trust me anymore?
I stared at dark Hindley, trying to break the spell she’d cast over me. I was weak though. My need to escape everything was stronger than ever.
I gazed down at a large candle encased in a glass container sitting on the vanity.
Pick it up. Go ahead.
I lifted the candle and stared at it for several seconds. “Go away,” I shouted before squeezing my eyes shut and hurling the candle at my reflection.
“Hindley,” my mother screamed.
My arm burned with pain. I opened my eyes and followed the warm trail of blood. A large piece of mirror was lodged in my forearm.
The throbbing ache in my arm reminded me that emotional pain could always be masked with physical pain. Like it always had been in the past.
Doesn’t it feel good, Hindley? Doesn’t the pain feel so intense and intoxicating? Don’t you miss it?
I nodded.
Forget everything except the pain.
“Okay,” I whispered.
I won’t ever leave you. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll always be here. And you know it’s only a matter of time before I take complete control.
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered, pulling the piece of glass free. The blood trickled down to my fingertips. “You’ll never take over again.”
“Hindley!” Paul banged on the door.
I held the shiny piece of mirror in my hand, stained crimson with my blood, observing it as if it were a foreign object. But it was familiar, so familiar, and so welcomed. I pressed the sharp edge against the skin of my arm, pushing it in just enough to leave an indentation, but not enough to break the skin.
Push harder. It will feel so good. I promise you’ll forget all your troubles, all your worries, all your fears, just like before. Maybe forever this time.
Suddenly the image of millions of people sitting in front of their computer screens watching that video of me and Donald Lee Westbank rolled through my mind. People thinking I was a willing participant as he raped me repeatedly.
Rory’s face appeared. Him, sitting in front of his laptop, watching me, loathing me, hating me. He’d never want to be with a girl like me once he saw those tapes.
I drew in a deep breath and pushed the shard through the protective barrier of my skin. The emotional agony fled as the familiar pain enveloped me.
Warm, soothing blood trickled down my arm and dripped off my fingertips into a pool of crimson, staining the snowy white countertop.
Doesn’t it feel good?
It did, better than it ever had before, better than I’d remembered.
I told you, Hindley. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me.
I pushed harder, dragging the shard of glass down my arm when images of Donald raping me filled my mind.
“No,” I said. Only this time I wasn’t talking to dark Hindley. “No more.”
That a girl, Hindley. Deeper. Harder.
I pressed harder, the pain intensifying as I ran more trails down my arm.
Forever.
Finally the pain subsided, my vision growing darker.
No more Donald Lee Westbank, no more videos, no more Geneva, no more Rory, no more anything.
I slashed my arm over and over. The blood wrapped around me like a protective blanket, keeping me safe. The physical pain quickly eclipsed the emotional as my body floated higher.
You’re almost there, Hindley, just a little closer. Forever. All your worries and your fears will be gone. Forever.
The door crashed open. Screaming echoed through the room but I barely heard it as the lights faded and darkness closed in.
I smiled. Heaven had finally reached me. The pain of cutting was the only thing that had ever brought me real peace in my life, even if for a little while.
All thoughts and reason faded away into nothingness as the darkness consumed me.
Forever.
“Forever,” I repeated.