BEFORE

The Women Scorned

“Jade?” Kim sat in the chair beside Jade, her hand resting comfortingly on the young woman’s back. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready.”

Jade pressed her face into her hands and took deep breaths to control the roiling emotions. She wanted to cry and scream and hit something. Not something… someone. And not just hit.

She raised her head as tears ran freely. This was a safe space; she didn’t need to hide her pain. Letting it out was a sign of strength. Here. But out there in the world, a crying woman equaled vulnerability and weakness. And men took advantage of that. The women in the group were all too aware of that.

Jade sniffed and wiped her eyes. Though younger than some of the women, the group often looked to Jade as their leader. They were quick to hold her up in her distress as she held them up.

“I, um…” Jade cleared her throat and straightened in the chair. “I have to talk about it. Because if we don’t talk about it… they win. And they don’t get to win, not this time.”

Lisa tentatively spoke up. “All… all we’ve heard are rumors of what happened. What…” She swallowed, her eyes misting. “What really happened to Amy?”

Pain squeezed Jade’s heart as she gazed at the twenty-year-old. Lisa was gang-raped on prom night by her date and three of his friends. Two years later, nightmares continued to plague her sleep. The young men forged a story that implied Lisa willingly had sex with them, and that it was all consensual. Because the men came from upstanding families and Lisa did not—there were no consequences.

Most of the women in the group could tell similar stories. Some of them had never stepped forward to expose their abusers, fearing they would be shamed—rather than the men who hurt them. Their fears were valid. Society didn’t want to believe their handsome, upstanding men were monsters. It was easier to brand the women as “sluts” just asking for it, offering it, and then crying rape. Jade understood that some women did that. Some women. But most victims that came forward were truly victims.

Jade stood and absently rubbed her palms on her jeans. “Amy…” her voice rasped. “Amy and her friend, Jasmine, were… attacked and raped by three men.” She swallowed past a hard lump in her throat and her vision swam. “They were… brutally beaten. Amy… she…” Jade’s chin trembled. “She died from internal injuries. Jasmine is still… in a coma. They…” Jade took a slow, deep breath. “They… hung her. And wrote… MY Body, Slave… across her chest in black marker.” Jade hung her head, her chest heaving from surging breath. Her throat worked and jaw tightened.

Barb, an older woman in her early thirties, asked with a brittle tone, “Do you know who did it?” Barb came from an abusive marriage and bore the evidence in the form of scars. The most prominent—a gash on her cheekbone where her husband busted a beer bottle across her face. Married to a cop, Barb feared turning him in, certain the other cops would side with him. Barb had run from him, terrified he would kill her if she stayed. She fled to the opposite side of the country, changed her name, and started over. But her experiences left her jaded and distrustful of men.

“I do,” Jade replied thickly. “I know exactly who they are.” She told them about the videos on Amy’s phone, the protestors outside the college… and the three men who followed Amy and Jasmine into the park.

“I heard about the protestors,” Lisa whispered and hugged herself. “It scared me. Why are they allowed to do that… right out in public? Why didn’t someone stop them?”

“Because they’ve been given permission ,” Barb snapped. “That fucker at the top is a rapist. So now, these men feel validated to treat women as they please. No one is going to stop them when their high commander approves of their behavior.”

Lisa trembled and hugged herself. “What’re we going to do? What if they come after one of us next?”

“Show us the videos.” Mandy rarely spoke in the group. A victim of incest, her trauma went back to her childhood when not only one but multiple male members of her family had begun molesting her at age seven. The abuse had gone on throughout her teen years. She didn’t escape until she graduated high school and left home. Now, years later, the men in her family's hold on her remained to some degree. With the help of the group, she’d managed to cut all ties with her family for fear of being drawn back into the abuse.

“I-I don’t want to see the videos,” Lisa whispered.

“We need to see them,” Mandy insisted, her voice shaking. “We… we sit in this group every day where… where it’s safe. But we’re not safe. Not out there. We need to remember what’s out there so we can… so we can be prepared.”

“What?” Lisa choked. “Prepared for what? We can’t do anything about it. They can do whatever they want to us.” Tears welled. “We don’t have rights anymore—and they know it.”

Jade glanced at Nina. Twenty-nine. African American, Native American heritage. She sat quietly, staring at the floor. She had spent her teenage years in a group home for troubled girls. The racist men who ran the place had taken liberties with Nina which left her damaged on many levels.

“Nina?” Jade murmured. “The videos?”

Nina raised her head. The vacant look that often dominated her dark eyes now simmered with heat. “I agree with Mandy,” she whispered. “We need to know.”

“Why?” Lisa asked with a note of desperation. “It doesn’t matter what we know— they’ll always win. They always do.” She made a sweeping gesture around the small group. “We, of all people, should know that.” Tears clogged her voice. “We’re all victims. We all lost. They beat us— literally— and we couldn’t do a damned thing about it because we don’t matter.” Lisa buried her face in her hands, crying softly. “We’ll never matter. We’ll always be victims.”

Jade felt her pain. Hopelessness— helplessness— was a horrible, crippling feeling. “Anyone who wants to see the videos can do so.” She looked at Lisa. “But you don’t have to watch.”

Lisa remained seated as the other women gathered around Jade. Watching— listening— to the videos again wasn’t something Jade looked forward to. But maybe she needed it as much as the others because it kept the horror fresh. And to do what had to be done… the horror needed to stay fresh.

As the unthinkable poured out of the phone, Lisa left her chair and joined the group. Jade wrapped her arm around the young woman and pressed her lips to her hair as tears fell… and fury mounted.

Lisa returned to her chair, practically curling into a ball. Kim sat with her and held her. If Jade wasn’t there, Kim was the “leader”. Three years older than Jade, Kim possessed a strong personality and presence, much like Jade. Kim was sexually assaulted at a frat party during her freshman year in college—by a couple of rich boys with rich daddies with the best attorneys. Kim had joined a women’s activist group focused on bringing awareness to the high number of sexual assaults that happen on campuses. But it did little to prevent the entitled boys from taking what they wanted. It was the golden rule all over again; Those with the gold made the rules.

“What did the sheriff say when you showed her the videos?” Barb asked, visibly agitated.

“Nothing,” Jade said. “I didn’t tell her about the videos.” The mention of Sheriff Hunt sent a funny tickle through Jade’s belly button. She shook it off, not fully understanding the cause.

“Why not?” Mandy asked.

Jade looked at the women who had become more than just group supporters. They were her friends. As they’d shared their pain, trauma, and fears, their bond had grown, drawing them into a tight-knit family. She trusted these women with her life.

“For the same reason we’re all here,” Jade said. “For the same reason we have a monster at the head of our country.” She swallowed as her pulse quickened. “Because entitled men aren’t held accountable. Not by society. Not by the law. Not by the justice system. We watched a convicted felon, a rapist, a liar, a traitor—take control of this nation. Placed in control by the people of this nation. Because of him… my sister is dead. So, no. I won’t put my trust in a twisted legal system that caters to wealthy white men. Our country doesn’t punish these types of men—they put them in power.”

Nina gazed uncertainly at Jade. “What’re you going to do?”

Until that moment, Jade’s plan had subsided only in the abstract. But that one question spoken aloud brought it into focus.

“I’m going to find them,” Jade murmured with a dull edge. “And hold them accountable.”

The women exchanged cautious looks. Barb stepped forward. “You’ll need help.”

“I will.”

“I’ll help,” Barb said. “I’m done running.”

One by one, the other women joined Barb.

Lisa, alone, remained detached. Jade approached her and sat down, hugging the young woman. “It’s okay,” Jade whispered. “You don’t have to do this.” She kissed Lisa’s head. “Know that what we’re doing isn’t only for Amy and Jasmine… it’s for all of us. For all the women out there, whose abusers got away with hurting them.” Jade hugged her closer, tears and rage constricting her throat. “No more. They want to hurt us—we’ll hurt them right back.” She swallowed hard. “It goes both ways.”