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I had to stop thinking like that. Sometimes when I let myself go, my negative intrusive thoughts would take over and start blaming myself for my own abuse. I couldn’t go down that road. All of this was Reg’s fault, Rick’s fault, and the fault of the Organization.
It wasn’t mine. I had nothing to do with my own rape, I had nothing to do with my own humiliation.
I ran farther than I had before, almost to the end of the park which took up half the green space on this side of town. It eventually turned into the edges of the country club that belonged to the rich families who sent their kids to Covington. If you went through a narrow strip of forest, you would come out on their world class golf course.
I’d never been before that one night for dinner with the Kings. Before that, I only knew about it because everybody in Oakville knew where the country club was. Either you worked there, wanted to work there, or were a member.
I rounded the running track and wound up back on the grass, ran down a gentle hill to run alongside one of the roads to the bird sanctuary and spot where kids from both sides of town would go to smoke up or make out.
And then, as I reached the end of where the grass followed the road, I turned inwards towards the park again.
I was minding my own business, running and listening to music when I heard my name being called.
I stopped, turned down my music, turned around and couldn’t find the source. I was about to call myself crazy and turn my music up again when somebody honked at me.
I looked along the road and saw a red truck there, one of those old boxy ones from the eighties or nineties. This one had been done up in bright, shiny paint and had a white stripe around the entire body. It was a pretty truck, and I had no idea who it belonged to. I would have remembered seeing one of my friends with something like that.
I squinted and a male voice called my name again.
And that’s when I realized who it was.
Ryker, the fighter from Harrington, the one who knew Max and the one who had done...that thing to the guy who’d lost. The warrior, I called him in my head, the ancient fighter with the heart and soul of a Viking barbarian.
“Hey,” I waved nervously and took a step back to keep running. I remembered how much he made Kingston jealous, even if I was intrigued by him.
“Don’t, ‘hey’ me,” he laughed. “Get your ass over here.”
A car slowed down behind him and laid on their horn, and I wanted to run to him and away from him. When the car honked again, he motioned for me to come to him and like I was under his control or some spell. I did.
I jogged to his truck, climbed in and found him staring at me.
“Where to?” he asked, and I didn’t know what to say.
Ryker left me speechless.
