When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(24)
Kennedy takes a deep breath. “It’s hard to close my eyes some nights. When I do, it’s like a barrage of images pop into my head. Almost like my body knows I’m beginning to relax, and it needs to remind me of all the pain to keep me on my toes.” She shrugs, brushing her experience off. “It got really bad, so bad that Jackie made a house call a few months ago.”
“She came all the way from Tennessee?” Jackie and Kennedy have a strong bond, but I’m surprised she traveled so far for a patient.
“I scared the crap out of Amanda and Violet, and they ended up calling my parents. I had to fight to stay in the city. They were ready to drag me back to that place. I can’t … I can’t go back there.” Her voice breaks in the middle of the sentence.
Tears travel down her pink cheeks. Instead of brushing them away, I allow them to fall, wrapping her trembling hands in mine where they’re safe. “It’s been pretty bad, huh?”
She ignores my question. “Do you remember my testimony?”
“How could I ever forget?”
“Kennedy, can you please explain to the jury your relationship with Craig?” The prosecutor waves his hand to where Craig sits next to his smug lawyer.
When her eyes fall over him, Kennedy’s throat bobs up and down as she swallows hard. His cold stare burns into her, and she’s quick to avert her eyes elsewhere, anywhere but where he sits.
“We went on a date a few times, and hung out casually,” she answers.
The prosecutor flashes her a sad smile. “Kennedy, please refer to him by name, to make it clear to the jury.”
“Craig,” Kennedy’s voice shakes with emotion, “and I went on a few dates. At a party one night, I drank a little too much.” She glances at her parents, face red with embarrassment, and back to the suit in front of her. “Before I knew it, Craig led me up to his bedroom. I was fine with what was happening, until the point I wasn’t anymore. It didn’t take long to realize we weren’t on the same page.”
“Then what happened?” He urges on her story.
“We were kissing, and when it became clear he wanted to go further, I tried to stop him, but nothing I did even slowed him down.”
“But that wasn’t the night he …” There’s a long pregnant pause. “Kennedy, that wasn’t the night he raped you, correct?” Rape falls from his tongue like a hammer, directly slamming into my gut. Kennedy flinches.
She clears her throat to gain composure. “No, it wasn’t the night he raped me.”
“What happened that first night when you resisted?”
Her gaze falls to the bench where I sit with her parents, listening to her nightmare. Behind us are Violet and Dan. “Graham was outside the door, waiting in case I needed him, I suppose, but I thank God every day he was. He saved me. After that night, Craig made it his mission to make me uncomfortable, and cornered me whenever he saw the opportunity.”
The prosecutor taps the stand. “Okay, Kennedy, let’s switch gears to the night he attacked you the second time.”
She takes a deep breath, blows it out, and nods.
“Can you recall what happened that night?” He twists on the heels of his expensive penny loafers, walking back and forth in front of the jury, smoothing the front of his suit jacket.
“I was waiting for my boyfriend, Graham, to show up, but once he got there, we got into an argument. He was drunk, unaware of his actions. I was emotional and needed air after he embarrassed me in front of everyone we went to school with.” She peers up at me, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on the half wall. “I ran outside and walked along the property line. I was too far from the house. It was too dark to see, but I heard leaves crunching, so I knew someone was coming close.”
The prosecutor shifts back over to her. “What happened next, Kennedy? Take your time.”
“I walked over to a tractor that was sitting on a slab of cement. There was a chill in the air, and I was hoping it would block the wind. I remember hearing sticks snap behind me. At first, I thought it was my best friend, but it turned out to be Craig.” Kennedy sits up straight and rolls her shoulders. “He cornered me against the tractor’s back wheel. I tried to run away, but I didn’t get very far. He knocked me to my stomach, and when I tried to get up, I felt the first blow against my skull. I think I blacked out for a second, but somehow, I rolled onto my back. That’s when he really started hitting me, blow after blow until I could barely breathe through the pain.” Her eyes well with tears, and her head shakes from side to side.
“Do you need to take a break?” The prosecutor hands her a box of Kleenex and she pulls a few out to dry her face.
“No, I want to get this over with.” She dabs her cheeks. “What I remember most was his eyes. I was desperate to find some sort of humanity in them, but the moment they hardened on me, I knew what was going to happen. No amount of strength could have kept him off me. No amount of fight, and I swear I fought until the very last second.” Her voice breaks as she pleads with the jury. “The sound of my clothes being ripped from my body still haunts me. It’s deafening.”
“I think that’s enough, Kennedy. Thank you.” He escorts her off the stand to where her parents sit. Her mother’s head is buried in her father’s side.
I’ve never heard Kennedy’s recollection of that night. When she sits down, I wrap an arm around her and grab her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Inside, my heart pounds with no control or rhythm, and I clench my free hand at my side to relieve some of the anger boiling under my skin. I’d give anything, my life included, to get my hands around Craig’s neck.