Ray Ch. 03: Charade

He nodded in understanding. "So you teach them how to maintain?"

"The program is basically an early probation. Any sex offender who's coming up for parole in twelve months or less is eligible for evaluation." She paused while the waitress set down their food. The scent of the pizza reminded her she hadn't eaten anything besides cookie dough in the past twenty-four hours. "I usually only look at the ones who will most likely get out based on good behavior. If I feel they're a good fit, I offer them the opportunity to be put on probation earlier if they agree to court ordered treatment, agree to live in the treatment facility and agree to abide by the rules."

"Sounds like a good deal," he said, tearing off a slice.

"It is." Her eyes broke away from his. She bit into her lip, stifling her smile. "They never take the time to read the fine print on their court order."

"The fine print?"

"I'm suddenly starving." She shoved the pizza into her mouth, ignoring his confused stare.

"Okay..." He dragged out the word while he set the piece of crust in his hand down on his plate. "Are the men who go through your program usually successful?"

"That depends," she replied, covering her mouth as she finished chewing before continuing. "My program separates the opportunists from the predators, and the predators will always fail."

He chugged down several gulps of his beer then picked up another slice. "What's the difference?"

Knowing the difference was the most important part of her job. "I always like to use the drunk college girl example when I explain the difference to my new staff."

"This should be interesting..."

She sank down lower in the booth, then kicked her feet into his lap. "Let's say there's this really gorgeous twenty-one year old college student named Abby. Abby goes to a huge party at a friend of a friend's house because, well, Abby's twenty-one and likes to have a good time."

He pulled off her shoes as he always did, massaging her feet with his left hand while continuing to eat with his right. "Nothing wrong with that..."

"Of course there's nothing wrong with that," she said, enjoying the feel of his cage digging into her heel. "And in a perfect world, Abby would be able to have a good time, dress however she wanted, drink whatever she wanted, and still wake up safely wherever she landed at the end of the night. But it's not a perfect world."

"Far from it," he agreed.

"So our beautiful, free spirited Abby gets handed a drink almost the minute she walks through the door. Everyone there are friends of friends, so she chugs it down while she mingles." Her muscles started to relax as he rubbed her soles. His touch always had a way of driving the evil from her head. "The next thing she knows, she's starting to get a little dizzy. So now we move to Scenario One. The man in Scenario One, let's call him..." she paused for a moment, then smiled at him. "Let's call him Ray."

His hand paused, leaving her feet begging for more.

"Ray sees Abby starting to stumble around. He gets concerned and goes to help her. She collapses in his arms. He assumes she's just had too much to drink, carries her up to one of the empty bedrooms, lays her on the bed—"

"And rapes her?" He threw his napkin down on his empty plate then shoved it to the center of the table.

"Of course not! Ray is as good a man as a man comes." She rubbed her feet lightly into his lap until he relaxed back into his seat. "He makes sure she's on her side in the safe position, then closes the door and walks out."

"Sounds about right," he said, resuming her massage.

"Now, let's move on to Scenario Two, and let's call our guy Norman."

"Like Norman Bates?"

"Sure. Why not." She picked up the menu and began scanning over the cheesecake options. "Norman sees beautiful Abby beginning to stumble so he goes to help her. She collapses in his arms. He carries her up to the bedroom and lays her on the bed, except maybe Abby isn't totally passed out yet. Maybe she says something or looks at him in some way that makes him think she wants him." She paused to read the description of the Reese's Peanut Butter Chocolate Cake Cheesecake. "Maybe she's passed out but she's flirted with him in class before. Maybe he's been mistreated by women, thinks she owes him and thinks he won't get caught. Opportunists always go through an interesting thought process before they offend. They justify it in their head in any way they can. Norman has what he calls sex with Abby, though in reality it's rape."

He began shaking his head furiously from across the table. "No way. Norman still has to know it's rape because she was passed out or passing out. How could he honestly believe anything she did at that point was consensual?"

"And that's why you're Ray, not Norman," she said, wondering how he would feel if she ordered an entire cheesecake to go.

"Alright. Next."

"Next up we have Scenario Three. Let's call our guy Ben."

He arched his eyebrow. "Ben Whitmore?"

"Sure. Why not." She folded her hands together on the top of the table and pulled her feet out of his lap. "Ben's the one who slipped the drug into our beautiful Abby's drink."

******************

She shoved her sunglasses on her face, shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. Her foot pressed on the gas, her car rolling through the final stoplight before heading out of town. She had no physical destination but hoped her mind would reach a peaceful place by the time she was done with her drive. She rolled down her windows just enough to let the air flow through her lungs, inhaling as if she hadn't been allowed to breathe for months. She spun the dial on her radio, letting Benjamin Burnley drown out Ben Whitmore's voice in her head.

If she continued far enough down the empty two lane highway she would end up in the middle of nowhere. Morgan swore her hometown wasn't nowhere, and maybe now that Morgan had Finn it wasn't nowhere anymore. She wondered how it must feel to just give in. To let the heart take over the decisions and trust it wouldn't lead itself straight to its death.

Her car swerved hard to the right, the steering wheel jerking out of her grasp. She over-corrected, spinning the wheel to the left until she swerved over the center line. A loud crunch sounded as she bounced off the car next to her. She gripped the wheel tighter and spun it back to the right.

A white car pulled up next to her, matching her speed. "Stay in your lane!" a voice yelled through her window. The car slammed into her, shoving her off the shoulder of the road.

Her foot pushed through the brake, bringing her car to a screeching halt. She reached forward with a trembling hand to turn down the radio, needing silence to try and make sense of why there had been a car cruising beside her when it was a two lane highway. The sound of squealing tires brought her attention back to the road, and she looked up to see the white car flying backwards towards her. The brakes screamed as the car skidded to a halt next to hers.

"Temptress," the voice slithered through her cracked open window.

Her head turned towards the sound, her body freezing just long enough to recognize the smile taunting her through the window. She slammed her foot down on the gas, sending her car lurching forward. Her back wheels spun in the dirt at the sudden acceleration, forcing her to pull her foot up until she reached the paved road. A horn sounded, ceaseless in its assault on her nerves, then she was thrown forward as the white car rammed into the back of her own.

Her fingers grasped the wheel, her knuckles white as she pushed the gas pedal to the floor. She didn't know what he was driving, but she imagined whatever it was her Mercedes could outrun it.

"Hey, Siri! Hey, Siri!" she yelled frantically at her phone as she was rocked forward again. She prayed Siri could understand her pleas through the sound of crashing metal. "Call 911!"

"911, what's your emergency?" the dispatcher's voice came through the speakers.

"I'm being chased!" she yelled, looking in her rearview mirror to see where the white car was. She glanced in her side mirrors then back into her rearview as she told the dispatcher her location. But no matter how much she squinted her eyes, the white car was nowhere to be seen.