parents involved, hoping they’d help to encourage her to report it,” he says with a disdainful laugh.
And I know what he’s going to say, so I say it instead with all the disgust I can muster. “Let me guess . . . they did the opposite. Told her not to report it because it would bring shame on the family. They made her feel fucking shame, didn’t they?”
“Yup,” Beck says as he points a finger at me and nods. “But it only goes to show you they didn’t know their daughter. Caroline took that as a challenge, and it actually strengthened her spirit. She and I always banded together against our parents, so the minute they staked their position in opposition to me, she was spitting nails and eager to report it.”
“What happened?”
“They picked up Michael Schaefer and interviewed him. He denied it, stating he dropped her off at her apartment. Didn’t walk her to her door . . . just pulled up in front and then took off.”
“A real gentleman,” I grumble.
“It’s why she chose him to go to my parents’ party. He was a lowlife. But he wasn’t a rapist.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I wasn’t expecting that. “He wasn’t?”
“He volunteered DNA and it excluded him.”
“So someone got her at her apartment?”
Beck nods, his lips flat and eyes glinting with menace. “We assume she was ambushed.”
“That’s horrific. I’m just . . . I don’t even know what to say.”
He doesn’t respond, but picks off a piece of croissant and nibbles on it.
“So that’s why Caroline has nothing to do with your parents,” I continue. “They didn’t believe her; made her feel shameful, and she cut them out.”
“It’s part of it,” Beck says, pulling off another piece of croissant. He waves it at me as he says, “But it more has to do with the fact that once Caroline found out she was pregnant, they wanted her to get an abortion.”
At this, my jaw drops open in astonishment. “Ally . . . was conceived by the rape?”
“She was,” he says, and his eyes grow soft at just the mention of her. “Caroline refused a morning-after pill at the hospital. She wasn’t going to take the chance of killing a life if she was pregnant. My parents went berserk when they found out. Really tried to strong arm-her into aborting her own daughter, but Caroline would never, ever do that. They were wasting their energy and ensuring that Caroline would forever be gone from their life.”
“Your parents are absolute shits, Beck. I’m sorry to say that, but they really are.”
“Agreed,” he says with a wry smile. “And I hope you understand a little why that makes me the way I am. Why I flipped out when I thought you were lying to me. When I found you in my office. I just fucking hate deception and smoke and mirrors. If it’s not my father hiding his paternity of JT, it’s both my parents shaming Caroline for getting raped and wanting to keep it a secret. It’s just . . . I can’t fucking stand it.”
My eyes slide back out to the street briefly back to him. “I get it. I understand why you did what you did.”
“I’m still really sorry for it,” he offers.
“Water under the bridge,” I smile at him. “So I assume Caroline’s rapist was never caught?”
Shaking his head, Beck leans back in his chair. “No. The police checked out surveillance videos in the area, but there wasn’t anything that gave a direct line of sight to her apartment. You could see Michael Schaefer dropping her off in the parking lot and then driving off, but no angle provided a clear shot of her apartment door. No witnesses either. DNA didn’t match up to any known criminals.”
My fingers play with my croissant, but I don’t take any more of it. Instead, I put my hands in my lap and lean a little further over the table. “Beck . . . will you tell Caroline what happened to me? I want her to know she’s not alone in what it feels like not to know, and that maybe it’s even worse knowing. I want her to be able to talk to me if she wants.”
Beck’s smile lights his face and he leans forward as well, even further than I do, raises from his seat, and places his lips gently against mine before saying, “Caroline adores you, and I’m sure she’d be greatly comforted to share in this with you. You