The worst part about living in Weldman, Evelyn thought as she walked back to her apartment in the dark (the subway station was several blocks away), was the utter lack of character to the city. It wasn't particularly ugly, but it had no real beauty to it either. It wasn't big enough to have its own professional sports teams, but it wasn't small enough that your average American needed its location explained to them. It was neither crime-ridden nor particularly safe, not overly polluted nor noticeably clean. It was located in a mostly forgotten region of one of the most boring states in America. Unfortunately, it also happened to be where Evelyn had moved for college the year before. She had been told that Harrington University was among the best in the country for aspiring English majors, and so she had traveled a thousand miles from her California hometown to live in what she expected to be a new and exciting city. It turned out to be dreadfully boring, but sometimes boring was nice. Boring helped her stay in a routine, and it sure as fuck helped to get her mind off of the throbbing pain in her asshole and her wrists.
Jane had returned to her bedroom a few minutes later, a half-eaten potato skin in her hand. She unlocked Evelyn's handcuffs and tossed her purse at her. "Get out," she said. When Evelyn asked her about the food she'd said she would get for her, Jane sighed and handed her a fifty-dollar bill. "Get some McDonald's." She had gotten KFC instead, but she didn't feel any less hungry, only a bit nauseated. Perhaps eating a Famous Bowl on a moving train hadn't been a great idea. The bottle of water she'd bought hadn't lasted her more than a couple of minutes, but luckily the train station had had a fountain to fill it up in.
She stopped at a CVS and bought a pair of bracelets. Perhaps she could wear those at work tomorrow to cover up the marks from the handcuffs. They sure as fuck wouldn't be disappearing anytime soon, but she
would
need to hide them. She had work tomorrow and classes on Monday. She didn't want any concerned customers ---- or worse, classmates ---- asking if she was okay. If that happened, she was worried that she would spill everything. And that was not an option, when Jane had the threat of ruining her entire life hanging over her head.
Evelyn's stomach dropped every time she remembered the prospect of this blackmail. The abuse was bad enough, but the knowledge that Jane might keep it going as long as she wanted? That was horrifying. Evelyn had a feeling her life was about to irrevocably change, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
She took the elevator up to her apartment. Kelli Mae, her roommate, was not home. This was good: she didn't want anyone asking her questions she wasn't allowed to answer. She collapsed onto her bed, taking in the familiar feel of her blankets. She had thought it might be hard to be in a bed after what had happened, but it was not. This was not Jane's bed. She lit the candle next to her bed. Vanilla and cherry blossom.
This was okay. She was okay. What happened to her may have been pretty fucking far from okay, but it was over now. She pushed away the snide voice in her head that said it would never be over as long as Jane had her blackmail material.
On that ride home, she had spent a lot of time thinking (her phone was dead). She had sat on the Commuter Rail, her legs wobbly and her hands hidden in her jacket, and thought about her options. Could Jane be bluffing? Was the threat of police involvement enough to get her to back off? She thought of going to file a report, but admitting that she had been raped by another woman was bad enough. How would the police respond to her? Would they be sympathetic, or would they laugh at her? And what if Jane really did intend to release this blackmail? Should Evelyn risk ruining her entire life just to get a bit of justice?
I'll give it some time
, she thought.
She got what she wanted. I don't think she's going to go any further.
There was a bloodstain on the sheets when she finally did get up. Apparently getting raped in the ass wasn't good for the body, especially with such a huge strap-on. Who would have guessed? Looking at this stain, small and dark red, Evelyn began to cry. How could someone she had loved so much have done something so awful? So fucking gross?
I'm sorry
, she thought.
Whatever I did to deserve this, I'm sorry. Please just let it be over. Let me move on with my life.
• • • • •
On Wednesday, after lunch, some talking head on TV was ranting about the pathetic turnout by the Eagles that previous Sunday. Evelyn had not caught the game, but from what he was saying, it sounded bad. She put her headphones in and locked her door.
Rain thrummed against her bedroom window. It was a small room, just across the hall from the living room where Kelli Mae lay on the couch, but her roommate would not hear her. Spending the previous eight years of her life in the house of a conservative Christian family had taught Evelyn to masturbate silently and shamefully. She had grown out of the latter, but not the former.
Stripping naked, she put on some white noise on YouTube and began.
