Saved By Steven (the first story)

29. The Story She Never Wanted to Tell

The bed was cold against her back, but the body on top of her burned like fire. His breath was ragged, animalistic. Lauren couldn't see him—not really. Her eyes were clamped shut, as if the darkness might protect her from what was happening. It didn't. There were others in the room. She knew that. She could hear them. Footsteps. Breathing. Laughter. The rustle of fabric. She wanted to believe she was dreaming, but the pressure in her chest, the weight of their bodies, the tearing pain—it was all too real.Then came the screams.Loud. Wild. Desperate.It took her a moment to realize they were hers.

"Lauren, wake up. Time for group," a nurse said gently, tapping her arm.
But Lauren didn't move. Her limbs twitched beneath the blanket, her face contorted in distress.

"Get off me! Stop! You're hurting me!" she cried into the dream world."Shut up, bitch," a voice answered—gruff, cold, and familiar.

The nurse's face changed. She stepped out quickly and returned moments later with the doctor."She's trapped again," the doctor muttered.

"What do you mean?"
"She thinks she's awake. Her body's here, but her mind's stuck in the trauma." He retrieved a cold towel from the hallway and pressed it firmly to Lauren's forehead.
The sharp chill jolted her. She gasped and sat upright in bed, tears streaming down her face.
"Good morning," the doctor said softly.
Lauren blinked, her heart pounding. "Morning," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"You okay?"
"I guess," she murmured.
The doctor crouched beside the bed. "We really have to talk about this, sweetheart. These dreams... they're not dreams anymore. They're memories trying to come out."

Lauren skipped the morning group. Her stomach was in knots  and her skin crawled like something was moving just beneath the surface. But guilt—or maybe duty—dragged her into the mid-morning session. Family and friends were also welcome that Sunday. 
The topic was abuse.
Her hands trembled as she lit her fourth cigarette, fingers yellowed from habit and anxiety. She didn't look at anyone. Her scarf wrapped tight around her throat, her armor against the world.The doctor watched her quietly for a while before speaking.
"Lauren," he said gently. "Would you like to share?"
"No," she answered flatly, blowing smoke through gritted teeth.
"Can I try something with you then?"
She shrugged. "Whatever."
He leaned forward. "Okay. I'm going to tell a story. If it feels familiar, just stop me."She narrowed her eyes, but didn't stop him.
"Lauren was at a concert," he began. "She was having a good time. Maybe drinking, maybe not. She got invited backstage. It felt exciting. Normal. Then someone gave her a drink. Something was in it."
Lauren's shoulders tensed.
"She started feeling strange. Dizzy. Like she couldn't move. She woke up in a room, on a bed, with a man on top of her."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Silent at first. Then came the sobs, breathless and wet.
"He raped her. And then someone else came in, and someone else. They kept walking in and out. They took turns. One after the other. Some used condoms. Some didn't."
Lauren was curled up now, rocking slightly. She covered her mouth as she gagged. She felt sick to her stomach.
"They left her there, broken. A security guard drove her to the hospital. And afterward, she didn't want to talk about it. She couldn't. She stayed with a friend. And then... she found out she was pregnant."
Lauren let out a choked sob. "I was already on drugs. Before the rape."

The doctor nodded gently. "Okay. You tell the story."

Her voice trembled as she began. "I was already using. Pills, coke... whatever numbed the noise from inside. But after that night, after the rape, I couldn't stop. I needed to be numb. I needed to forget the way they felt. The way I felt. Dirty. Used."

The room was quiet. 

"I got pregnant," she said. "I had an abortion. I didn't want to feel it. I didn't want to feel the baby... leave me. I didn't want to feel anything. So I used more. Until I took too much."
Steven's eyes brimmed. Joe was white-knuckling his jeans. No one dared speak.
"I didn't want to die," Lauren whispered. "I just didn't want to be here."

The doctor finally nodded, his voice soft. "That's enough for today."
But Lauren had more to say. She turned to Steven and Joe, her voice low and fragile.
"I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to look at me like that."Steven shook his head. "We love you. We're not going anywhere."Joe leaned forward, his voice gruff with emotion. "You're not broken, kid. You're still here."Lauren blinked at them both, the shame thick in her chest. And for the first time in weeks, she didn't light another cigarette.
She just breathed.

The cafeteria at the facility wasn't much— but that afternoon it felt familiar. Joe, Steven and Lauren sat down at a small table in the corner.
Three paper cups.
Silence, broken only by the occasional slurp.

Joe sat slouched, elbows on the table, his boot tapping the floor in restless rhythm.
Steven leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, sunglasses still on, despite the dim light.
Lauren sat between them. Still. Hollow-eyed. Pale. Her scarf hung loose around her neck.No one talked at first.
"I'm sorry," Lauren said, voice thin as tissue. "I know that was a lot."Steven reached across and put a hand on hers. "You never need to apologize for telling the truth."
Joe nodded. "Damn right."
Lauren picked at the edge of her coffee cup. Her fingers trembled slightly. "You want to know what happened, don't you?"
Neither man answered right away.
"You don't have to," Steven said quietly. "Not unless you want to."
"I do," Lauren said. "I don't want to lie anymore. Especially not to you two."

She paused. Her throat tightened. "It wasn't backstage. Not the night I said. That was something else. The real thing... the worst thing... was months before."
Joe frowned. "When?"
"It was at a benefit concert you gave, the one at the university arts center. Remember?"
Steven blinked. "Yeah."
"You guys didn't know me then, I only was there to wait for a friend to drive me home." Lauren said, voice hollow. "Except he left without me. So I called a ride."She took a shaky breath. "Two guys. They were working temp security. Said the manager asked them to walk me out. I didn't question it. I was tired. They led me to a side hallway by the loading dock."
Joe swore under his breath.
"I don't know if they planned it ahead of time or if it just happened. They pushed me into one of the old dressing rooms. The small ones no one uses anymore." Her voice cracked. "There was music playing in the hallway. No one heard me."
Steven leaned forward, his hand still over hers. "Do you remember their names?"
"No. They weren't from our circle. One of them had a badge clipped to his shirt. But I was so scared, I didn't even read it."Joe's fists were clenched now. His eyes burned. "Did you report it?"
"No," she said. "I couldn't even say the word. I just... pretended I was sick. I stayed with a friend for a few days. Didn't shower. Didn't sleep."

Steven exhaled slowly, his throat working to hold back emotion.

"I wish I'd known. I would've—"
Lauren said sharply. "I didn't know you back then. Besides, I didn't want anyone to see me like that."
Silence stretched between them again.
Joe finally broke it. "Do you think they're still working events?"
"I don't know," she said. "And I don't care. I don't want revenge. I just want peace."

She looked down. "But I don't know if I'll ever really get it."Steven shifted in his chair, gently brushing his thumb along her knuckles. "Maybe not all at once. But you're here. You're talking. That's something."Lauren managed a small nod.