The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(109)
“It could’ve been much worse, but Benny’s head is harder than mine.” She flashed a weak smile when Ryan chuckled. “He’ll recover from it sooner than I will.”
“He’s always been tough.” Ryan narrowed his eyes. “I know that’s important to you—being tough. You overcame your mom’s death and held your own against endless teasing and testing from all those brothers. Even now, in the face of what you know, you’re pushing forward. But I’d never think less of you if you needed a shoulder to cry on, you know.”
“Good, because I can’t seem to stop crying lately.” Steffi covered her face and shook her head before looking at him. “You should know, I haven’t read the report.”
Ryan’s brows rose to his hairline. “Why not?”
She took a minute to compose her thoughts. Being confronted with it had been like getting smacked in the chest with a splitting maul. In the days since he’d left it at the bungalow, she’d stared at his name, written in some other man’s hand, and cursed. She could only guess that she’d gotten rid of the original report because her subconscious didn’t want it around. Her inability to remember any of it made her feel even more victimized.
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that it happened to me but I can’t remember it. I mean, the details must be so horrifyingly awful for me to have blocked them out.”
“I’ve done some research.” Ryan rocked back on his heels. “Turns out that, when under extreme stress and fear, the brain focuses on only those details needed for survival. The way it encodes information in those moments can misfire or fragment the memory. Add to that the trauma, which can cause PTSD and a host of other mental issues. In exceptional cases, people dissociate from the event and repress it completely. And like with you, being told of it or seeing photos won’t necessarily trigger the memory. It takes finding some kind of ‘access code’ that re-creates the circumstances, like a smell or something.”
“So I’m not a freak? Other people have had this kind of response?”
“Many rape victims’ memories are faulty; a few are repressed. Defense attorneys exploit those gaps to undermine the victim’s credibility.” He folded his arms across his chest. “That night you’d been drinking at a bar, feared for your life, been brutally violated, and got clocked with a gun. Any one of those things could impair your memory, but combined? No wonder you can’t recall everything.”
Steffi twined her hair in her fist and spun around to stare out the window while she considered that massive info dump. One thing he said had stuck out. Other victims had suffered like she had, yet they’d taken the stand to accuse their attackers. Unlike her, who couldn’t even read the file, those brave souls fought back.
Steffi turned back to face Ryan. “I want to go back to the alley.”
“Why?” His expression was pinched with doubt.
“I could accept the idea that some guys got away with mugging me. But I can’t let them get away with rape because I’m too afraid to even try to remember details that could lead to finding them. Maybe going back there will be my access code, and I’ll recall something about how they looked or things they said or an accent or anything at all that could ID them.” She then swallowed her pride. “Will you go with me?”
Ryan could not love this courageous woman more. “Of course. But maybe you should talk to a doctor before we put you in a situation that could make things worse.”
“I’ll think about that.” She breathed a relieved sigh.
“You know, even if you eventually remember some details, the cops might not ever catch those guys. Can you live with that?”
“I’ll have to, won’t I?”
He wanted to hold her again. To kiss her. To wrap her up in cotton and tuck her away where nothing bad would happen again. But that wasn’t life. Life was messy. Risks couldn’t be avoided. “Can I ask something else?”
“Sure.”
“Have you forgiven me? Can we pick up where we left off before I screwed up?” His heart stopped beating while he waited for her answer.
Her hesitation sank his hopes, leaving him cold despite the cozy temperature of the new room she’d built. “I want to, but I need to make sure I’m better. I don’t want to hurt you like I did Benny. And I won’t risk hurting Emmy.”
“Everything you’ve said tonight gives me confidence that won’t happen.”
“Then there’s the whole thing about sex. What if I can’t do it? I mean, I did beat up on you that night we started down that road. I doubt you want to be celibate forever.”
“I’m patient. Dr. Saxe can probably help us with that, too. In the meantime, we can cuddle a lot.” He grinned at her because, unlike him, she hadn’t been much of a cuddler.
“More threats?” she chuckled, then wrinkled her nose. “Too soon to joke?”
“It’s never too soon to joke. And whether or not we ever find those guys, you’ll recover, Steffi. I’d love it if you’d let me be part of the process.” He opened his arms, and she walked into them. Right where she belonged. “I meant it when I said love you. I want us to keep moving forward now, but as slowly as you need. No pressure.”