Six

River

When I leave work the next night, I find Judson waiting by my car in the parking lot. He's leaning against a light post, backlit by the setting sun.

"Hey," he says as soon as I'm close enough. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah, but at my apartment." I don't bother telling him I don't like to be out after dark. I'm sure he'll probably be able to tell as the sun descends quicker behind the clouds on our way to my apartment.

Judson gets in the passenger side of my Kia, and when I get in beside him, I have such a strong sense of déjà vu that I fumble as I start up the engine.

How many times did we drive in the same car in high school? Judson inherited his dad's old Camaro when he turned sixteen, and we drove in it together all the time. It was in the shop the day Ian took us. As far as I know, it's parked in McKenzie's garage, where it's been since the day Judson left town.

I back out of the parking lot and drive just a hair over the speed limit in the hopes of reaching my apartment before darkness falls.

"How was work?" Judson asks, breaking the silence.

"It was fine." My voice is more clipped than I mean for it to be. I keep glancing at the sky, watching as twilight sets in.

Without a word, Judson reaches over and puts a hand on my thigh.

My muscles relax a little, and I loosen my tight grip on the steering wheel. Judson doesn't have to say anything to let me know he's telling me that he's here. I'm not alone.

He keeps his hand on my leg until we reach my apartment building, and when we get out of the car, he takes my hand in his as we head inside the complex.

He doesn't let go of me until we're safely in my apartment.

I turn off my alarm and lock the door before dropping my keys on the entryway table.

Judson glances in the kitchen, then onto the living room, which consists mainly of just the couch and sofa.

"I work a lot," I say, as if he's judging me for the place. "I'm not really here much other than to sleep."

"It's nice," Judson says. "Good area. I like how safe it feels."

His last comment surprises me even though it probably shouldn't. Judson was always a bit wilder than I was. Willing to do things I had to be talked into. Safety was never a huge priority for him. How much of that change was caused by what Ian did to us?

I move into the kitchen and pull two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, offering Judson one.

He takes it but doesn't open it. Instead, he leans back against the counter and just plays with the lid, fidgeting nervously. It's strange to see. Judson's never been a nervous person.

I take a sip of the juice and watch him stare down at my kitchen tile as if it's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask as I toe my sneakers off.

"I need to tell you something about…about why Ian took us in the first place." He's mumbling, as if he's hoping I don't actually hear what he's saying.

My muscles freeze as I look up at him. "What are you talking about? We both know why Ian took us. He made it pretty obvious."

"No, I mean…" He takes a breath and swallows so hard that I hear it in the silence of the kitchen. "I met him the day before he took us. At that party you didn't want to go to at Portland State."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean? What the hell happened?"

"He hit on me about thirty minutes after I got there. I wasn't interested; turned him down. He was so much older than me, and I was about to graduate high school, you know?"

His voice sounds like it's coming from far away as I try to understand what he's saying. All this time, I'd thought it was random, that Ian saw us as a crime of opportunity. But it went deeper than that.

Judson shifts his weight from one foot to the other and goes back to staring at the tile under his boots. "He kept pushing, asking me, and I finally told him I was hoping to hook up with my best friend." He pauses before adding, "It was the truth. Just…so you know."

I don't try to respond. I'm not sure my mouth will work right now.

"Um, so I thought that was the end of it," Judson continues when I stay silent. "But then a bunch of us were in the pool, and he grabbed my ass. He played it off like it was an accident, but one of the other guys made him get out and leave."

The confusion in my head starts to clear as he keeps talking. "Why didn't you tell me about this before? When we were stuck in Ian's basement?"

"What was I supposed to say? That the reason we were abducted was because I turned some random guy down at a party? Everything he did to you was my fault."

The guilt in his words is enough to pull me from my shock. "Judson—"

"That day he took us, he told me he was going to ruin you to the point where I wouldn't want you anymore," Judson says, his voice hoarse. "I wish I could tell you how sorry I am, but I don't have the words. And I would go back in time and change it if I could, let him fuck me at that party, and maybe things would've been different. Maybe… Maybe he wouldn't have hurt you if I hadn't turned him down.

"Judson." I don't even remember moving toward him but suddenly I'm in front of him, my hands wrapped around his upper arms. "Look at me."

He drags his gaze up to meet mine, and I can see the guilt buried so deep inside him, it's like a living part of him. He truly thinks he did something wrong that night at the party.

"It's not your fault," I say.

"If I'd just—"

"It's not your fault," I interrupt firmly. "What happened to me, to us, that's on Ian. That's not on you. None of it is."

"But he hurt you," he whispers. "He hurt you just because I told him that I liked you."

"It's still on him," I insist. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "I need you to know that I would've lived with him forever, done anything he asked, if he would've spared you. I told him that, but…it didn't matter. He'd already decided to hurt you. I couldn't take him out of it."

"Judson…I can't believe you offered that to him."

"I would've given him anything if he'd just left you alone."

The raw honesty in his voice nearly guts me. He's been holding onto this guilt for so long. This is the real reason why he ran away. Judson could've faced Ian and everything that happened to him, but he couldn't face what he thought he caused Ian to do to me.

"It's okay," I say, squeezing his arms. "Judson, it's okay. I don't blame you."

"You should," he mumbles, and the two words nearly kill me. He sounds so unsure of himself. He sounds defeated. As if he's waiting for me to change course and tell him that he's right, that I hate him for all that happened.

"Well, I don't," I say firmly. "When you told him no at the party, that should've been the end of it. He had no right to do what he did to you."

"I know, I know. I just… I feel like I should've been able to stop him. And I know that's ridiculous to think, but I can't help it. A part of me feels as guilty as if I'd hurt you myself."

"Oh, Judson." It's all I can say. There aren't any words to encompass what I'm feeling. It's hard to wrap my head around everything Judson just told me. The only thing I can focus on right now is the man standing in front of me, who's believed for six years that he could have prevented what happened to us somehow.

I pull him close, and he hesitates a long moment before relaxing his body. He lays his head on my shoulder, and I hug him as tight as I can. Try to tell him without words how much I still care about him. How I could never blame him for something that was so far out of his control.

I know he's not going to let go of the guilt overnight, but I'm determined to help him as much as he'll let me.