Violated

Twenty-Five

Brent

Homecoming game meant practice for weeks, extreme pressure, and sweating like never before. We always played against our rivals in the town next door. Coach worked us extra hard. The only thing that made it worth it, besides the trophy, was the massive party we'd have tomorrow after the dance. I haven't even seen Laura to ask her to the dance, but I hoped she'd show up at my game tonight, and then I could ask her.

"Ready bro?" Jake asked, patting me on the back.

"Let's do this," I said. This was the game of the season, and scouts would start watching us now. 

"They're about to introduce the cheerleaders, let's go watch." He winked, hitting my side with his helmet before running off.

"Let's go beat some asses, boys," Coach Carter said. Most high school coaches didn't speak like this. We were lucky to have someone as cool and understanding as him. He often helped pick up our shit and was the person we could call at three in the morning when we were too drunk to know where we were. 

I followed behind everyone else and walked out the hallway. I heard women's voices on the intercom system, instead of cheerleader music. When I heard Samantha say she was raped, I walked quickly to the head of the line and stood next to Jake. I was shocked to see women standing there with signs of our names up. Jake, Trevor, Brent, and Will were mixed up between them, and I understood what was going on. As a team, we had a secretive pact to uphold at these parties. How someone found these girls was a mystery, but I'd crush whoever did this. Someone wanted to take down the team, and they'd pay.

I heard Laura's voice talking about me, and I saw her standing just feet in front of me. I felt betrayed. I wasn't this monster they tried to make me out to be. I threw down my helmet and took steps towards her, with no idea of what I'd do or say in mind. I stopped in front of her, looking her in the eye.

"What is this shit?" I asked. She stood her ground and refused to speak to me, and did nothing but look down. I took the sign from her hands and ripped it from her, throwing it down on the ground and stomping on it. I heard sirens immediately after, and completely missed the fact that there were police standing there. At this point, I had done no wrong, and they had no proof besides a druggie's word. My father's lawyers would make sure this would never go to court, and give that bitch whatever she wanted. 

"Brent Harrington, you're under arrest," an officer told me.

"This is bullshit, what do you have besides these bitches words?" I retorted, struggling in my cuffs. Someone of my family name and money didn't deserve this. My father had the police in his corrupt pockets. Last year, he funded a precinct rebuild alone, saving the taxpayers millions and buying the loyalty of the force. 

"My parents will have your heads," I threatened as they put me in the car. 

"Are you threatening an officer, sir?" He asked, slamming the door and grinning. Another charge they'd throw at me. I saw Jake in another cop car. I tried to mouth to him that I'd call my lawyer. They'd take care of him as well. Jake was family, protected by our money as well. My dad would cover the entire team just to keep football going. We'd be out soon, winning again, then off to college on full ride scholarships, parting with women that could keep up with me.

#

"You're saying all of these women are lying?" The officer asked me as we sat in a small, dark room. My chair was hard plastic, and very uncomfortable. My lawyer was next to me, helping me out before Jake. I hoped he wasn't saying anything without the lawyer there. 

"Yes. Finally, you get it." I crossed my arms and laid back in the chair, rolling my eyes. 

"Your friend across the hall has already told us everything we need to know. That's why you heard a knock at the door a few minutes ago, it was a signal." His face was so straight that I didn't know if it was true, or he was trying to get a confession off of me.

The two officers in the room exchanged a glance before one got up, leaving the room for thirty seconds before coming back with a laptop in hand. It was mine. I watched as they hit play, and saw myself on the screen. This was the video with Mindy, the first one I ever made. 

"Shut it off," I demanded, looking away from the screen. I knew what was coming up, and it looked pretty damning. The video was twisted to make me look bad. I knew recording would be the death of me, but I couldn't help it. I watched these videos every day. "They wanted it."

"Are you sure? Because they look pretty unconscious to me," the offer disgustingly suggested. "It doesn't matter. We have testimony, videos, photos, and a confession from someone else," he said before he started to walk away with the other officer. "Book him."

I turned to my lawyer. "Are you going to fucking do something? Why do we pay you?" I was surrounded by disappointment. These officers didn't back down after learning who I was the son of, and my lawyer wasn't responding. 

"I'm sorry, Brent. We'll fight it in court, but they have enough evidence. I can't do anything." My useless, expensive lawyer stood around and shrugged his shoulders. I thought a money laundering con man would have had a better legal team.

I stood up as they stood by me with handcuffs, and kicked the chair down to the ground, but it hit the officer's ankle. Another charge would be coming my way.

For the first time in my life, I was scared of what would happen next.