Helpless

Chapter 55

Tom eased Jill onto the sofa. Her skin was pale and clammy to the touch. Her breathing was shallow. He covered her with a thick fleece blanket and left the living room, to return holding a blood pressure cuff and gauge. Over the years coaching soccer, Tom had amassed enough medical equipment to open his own ambulatory service. To his relief, the blood pressure reading was normal, so while Jill exhibited some of the symptoms of shock, he didn’t need to rush her to a hospital.

Tom sat on the faded yellow armchair across from Jill. His head continued to pound. Adding to his discomfort, Tom’s knee had ballooned to the size of a youth soccer ball, and the IV puncture hole had begun to bleed.

Jill pointed to the red river of blood that snaked across the back of Tom’s hand and ended up as drips on the armchair.

“You’re bleeding, Dad,” she said. Those were the first words she’d spoken since the cab ride home. “I’ll get you a bandage.”

Jill came back with a Hello Kitty Band-Aid. The two shared a quick laugh after she secured it in place.

“Are you ready to talk?” Tom asked.

Jill retreated to the sofa and rested her head on a makeshift platform of her interlocking fingers. She kept her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor, and her expression remained grave.

“I’m not going to judge you, honey,” Tom added, “but I’d like to know the truth. What did Mitchell Boyd do to you?”

Jill stared up at her father through a glaze of tears. Her bottom lip trembled, and Tom knew it meant a flood was imminent. “I can’t tell you,” she sobbed into her hands.

Just thinking about Mitchell Boyd made him want to return to that house and inflict further misery on the boy.

“Jill, this is really important,” Tom said. “I need you to trust me. Did he hurt you? Did he touch you in a threatening way?”

Jill’s gaze again retreated to that spot on the floor, and she shook her head. It was a tentative no at best.

“Tell me exactly what he did that got you so scared,” he said.

“I guess I thought he was going to hurt me,” Jill responded. The timbre of her voice came at him weak and rueful. “I didn’t know who else to call,” she continued. “I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. Maybe… I just overreacted.”

Tom stood up and plopped down on the sofa beside her. He pulled Jill close to him. Something inside of her must have let go when he did. Tom felt her whole body begin to relax. He brushed away a tear that lingered near her eye. Jill crinkled her nose and smiled at him after he smoothed it away.

“Jill,” Tom said in a more somber tone, “I need you to open up to me about Mitchell. I need to know everything.”

Jill shook her head. Her posture changed. She seemed more closed off again. “I don’t want to talk about what happened.”

Tom glanced over at the whiteboard, and that big, obtrusive square with the word trust in the center. Jill leaned over and gently kissed her father on the cheek.

“Will you come back home?” Tom said.

“I am home,” Jill said. She inhaled a sob, then let her own tears fall freely. She fell into her father’s open arms, and he wrapped her warmer than any fleece blanket ever could.

“Please trust me,” Tom said. “Please give me a chance. I told you my greatest secret. Please don’t burden yourself by keeping secrets from me.”

Jill nodded.

Tom stood up and walked over to the whiteboard. With the palm of his hand he erased the square blocking the goal. Tom turned around to look at Jill.

“What really happened at Mitchell’s?” asked Tom.

Jill took in a heavy breath and breathed it out slowly. “We were hanging out in his room. But we weren’t doing anything—”

“I know,” Tom said, nodding so that she could skip over the uncomfortable details. “Go on.”

“Well, he wanted to do things that I wasn’t comfortable doing. He started to push me into it, and I got scared. I didn’t know who else to call. So I called you.”

“Did he rape you, Jill?”

Jill shook her head. “No. I think maybe he might have if you hadn’t come. I don’t know.”

Tom bit his lip. The furious impulse to inflict permanent damage to Mitchell Boyd had returned. “Okay. Is that everything? Are you sure you’re telling me everything, Jill? No more secrets.”

Jill nodded emphatically. “That’s everything. I swear.”