The Story of Tiffany

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tagIncest/TabooThe Story of Tiffany

Tiffany Marie Andrews was 21 and a recent transplant to California. She had been there almost six months. She had taken her two-year accounting degree and moved from the Midwest out to the land of sun and movie stars. An attractive auburn-haired woman, she had curves but wasn't fat. She had met a few people in her new area, and along with some work friends, had thrown a small party at her simple little apartment that Friday evening.
She had gone out with Troy a few times, but it was certainly nothing serious. He was at the party, and while they had danced a few times they had never progressed beyond an occasional kiss. She was preparing to break up with him, as she just really didn't feel anything for him. As the party wound down, people were leaving. Eventually is was down to her and Troy. She was picking up, when he came out of the kitchen with two more drinks in his hand. He handed her one, telling her it was a nightcap. She didn't really want another drink, she figured she wanted to be pretty sober when she broke up with him. In a way, she was glad he had stayed so she could talk to him.
"Drink up, baby! There's still some night left, let's have some fun!"
"Troy, I… I really didn't want another drink. I want to talk to you though."
"I want to talk to you too… but let's have this one last drink!"
"Ok…" She took it in the kitchen and drank about 1/3 of it before pouring the rest down the sink. She put some dishes in the sink and came back out where Troy was on the couch. She was feeling a bit loopy as she sat down next to him.
"Look, Troy… I… I like you. You're a nice guy, but… it just isn't working out. It's me, really. I thought… Woah…" Her head began to spin. She looked over at him, and it took a massive effort to turn her head. He was smiling at her.
"How you feeling, babe?"
She tried to talk but couldn't.
"Babe… I think I know where you were going and why. You wanted a piece of Troy-boy and he has been denying you. Good news, though, because tonight you get the whole treatment!"
She tried to scream, tried to run, but couldn't move. She knew he had drugged her, but she hadn't drank the entire thing. She was conscious but couldn't physically move. He murmured sweet nothings at her as he undressed her, kissing her unmoving lips. He carried her to her bedroom, where he took in in every way. He took her anally, he took her vaginally, he put himself in her mouth. After the third time he came, all over her c-cup breasts, he laid back. "Babe… you're great. We have got to do this again sometime soon!"
He got up, got dressed, kissing her forehead before leaving. "I'll call you tomorrow. Love ya!" he said as he left the room. She was crying on the inside, laying on the bed. Her phone rang, but she couldn't answer it. She laid there, passing out mercifully an hour later.
She woke up in the morning with an enormous headache. She had a full memory of what happened to her and began moving slowly to see if it worked. She was not very coordinated, but she managed to get to the shower and wash herself. She felt only slightly better as the scalding water failed to wash her memories away.
She put on clothes, debating on what to do at that point. Her phone rang again, she checked and this time it was Troy.
"You fucking bastard!"
"Hey, babe!"
"Don't 'hey babe' me! You… you raped me! You drugged me! I'm going to the police!"
"Oh, babe, that's not a good idea. I know most of them anyway. I'll have all my friends testify that you're the biggest slut in Cali, and that you told them that you want my money. Bad Idea. How about we go out tonight instead?"
"Are you fucking nuts? Leave me alone!" She hung up. She was shaking, knowing that he would drag her through the mud in she tried to turn him in. She sat on her floor, crying. That was where her best friend in the area, Christine, found her that evening. After a lot of cajoling, Tiffany broke and spilled her guts about what Troy had done. Christine had bundled her up into her car and taken her to her house, calling a few of her other friends. They stayed up most of the night, trying to convince Tiffany to go the police. She knew exactly what Troy would do, and she didn't want to go through that. Troy called her several times, and she never answered.
Sunday morning, her phone rang again. She almost threw it, but she checked the screen first. It was her brother, Mark. Mark was her fraternal twin. He had stayed back in the Midwest, doing factory work. He wanted out of the house as soon as possible, and that was the quickest way out. He always knew when she was upset, and he always called. She answered it.
"Hey Tiff, you didn't call back. I was thinking about you Saturday. How's things?"
"Hey Mark… not doing great, but… I… I don't really want to talk about it now. How are you doing?"
"Had worse days, I guess. Roommate decided to move out at the end of the month. It's gonna make it really tight until I find someone else. Hoping for a promotion soon, might be enough money to overcome it all. You spending every day at the beach, waiting for a movie star to come marry you?"
"You're not funny. I'm too fat for them, and… I don't know if I even ever want to marry right now. I… I'm having a rough day. Can I call you back later? I… I miss you, Mark. I wish you were here right now."
"Miss you too, Tiff. Maybe this summer I can afford a plane ticket. Call you next weekend?"
"Sure, for sure. Love ya, Marky."
"Love you too, Tiff." He hung up and she started to cry. She wanted to tell him, but just couldn't.
The work week came. She went back home, and Troy kept calling. The messages began to get an ominous tone. He told her she was his now, and that he could take her whenever he wanted. She was badly off-balance, and her work was suffering. Her friends still wanted her to call the police, and she still refused. Troy had tried knocking on her door a few times while she sat in her house cowering in fear. She knew she couldn't live like this. She was almost at the end of her rope.
Friday evening, Mike called again. They talked of nothing important for a few minutes. He knew something was wrong but was waiting patiently for her to finally tell him. He mentioned his roommate one more time, and Tiffany asked when he was leaving.
"Five more days, last day of the month is his last day. Why, do you know somebody out here looking for a place?" he laughed.
"I… I think I do know someone."
"Really? I mean, that would be great, but I don't want to live with somebody I don't know."
"Oh, you know them. You know them well."
"If you're serious, tell me now. Who?"
"Uhhmmm….. me." she said in a small voice.
After a pause, he talked. "Tiff, you're always welcome to stay with me… but what happened that you want to abandon your California dream? It had to be bad…"
"Mark… I can't. I just can't. Can you pick me up at the airport next weekend? Once I get everything settled I'll text you the flight information. Are you sure this is OK?"
"Tiff… you know it's OK. Can't wait to see you, honestly…. Just, just be careful. Talk to you soon, OK?"
"Bye Mark…"
"Bye Tiff."
She called Christine and started telling her of her plan. Christine wasn't happy but saw that it was what she wanted. They gathered her friends at Christine's and divvyed up what was necessary. One girl bought her car and the furniture was split among the others. Anything unsold was given away. Tiffany was taking her clothes and nothing else, and there would be no outward signs of a move.
Tiffany used her savings on a plane ticket and texted Mark. He let her know he would be there. She told her landlord she was leaving, and on Friday told work it was her last day. She used the "Family Problems" excuse, saying she needed to take care of her mother. They did give her a nice recommendation letter. Saturday morning, the new owner of her car dropped her off at the airport with her carry-on bag and one other large bag.
When she arrived, she was looking around the baggage claim for Mark. She was beginning to panic when a hand landed on her shoulder, spinning her around. Mark pulled his sister in tight and felt her tense up, so he let her go. She had a look of fear in her eyes as he looked at her. "Hey, Tiff, you ok? I was at the wrong baggage claim number for a minute, then the flight numbers changed. Are you OK?"
"Y-yeah… I guess. Let's just get my bag."
Once they had her bag, they went to Mark's old truck. He put the bags in the back and looked over at her. "Didn't bring much with ya… sure you're planning on staying?"
"It's all I have left, so I'd better stay. I have a little cash. I can pay rent this month if you need, but I have to find a job soon."
"All you have… really? Wow… Tiff, let's go home now. You might regret your choice after you see this dump."
"As long as you're there, I'll be ok."
He drove them to his apartment. It was the lower story of an old house, nothing very special. The owner would let them paint and such, and he had it looking decent. He kept it clean, at least. He showed her the bedroom. It was small and empty.
"Where am I going to sleep?"
"I… I guess I figured you had furniture. We'll go out tomorrow and find you something, tonight I can take the couch. You can use my bed."
"You don't have to, I can take the couch."
"I wouldn't do that to you. It's only a night anyway. Hey, since you're here, want me to make you something to eat? I have some leftovers I can heat up. Want a drink?"
"NO! Uh… I mean… yes, please warm me up some food. Nothing to drink, just a water."
He looked into her wild eyes. He knew then that something very bad had happened, although he didn't know what. He took her hand lightly. "Tiff… whenever you're ready to talk, let me know. You can't keep it inside forever, it'll eat you alive." With that, he took her to a chair and sat her down, going to the kitchen and getting out some food. He brought her a glass of cold water and some lasagna that he had made, hoping it was good enough for her to eat.
She stared at both for a minute before drinking some of the water. She took a small bite of the lasagna, then a second larger one. "When the hell did you learn to cook?"
"Self-preservation, Tiff. Learn to cook or starve, I can't afford to go out to eat every day. I made this with low-fat cheese and spinach, it's a little healthier. I usually make enough of something to last for a week of lunches at work, it's cheap and easy that way."
"This is actually really good Mark… thanks. I didn't realize… this is the first thing I've eaten all day."
"I have one more serving if you're hungry!"
"I don't want to get any fatter…."
"You aren't fat. You look good, really good…. Except your face. You look upset, scared, something."
"We aren't talking about that right now…. Maybe not ever. Just… just thank you, thank you for letting me come back. I really needed to come back, Mark."
"We are all each other's got, Tiff. I'll always have your back, you know that. Just… does this have anything to do with what happened two weeks ago?"
"Wha..uh… why?"
"I knew something happened… you know what I mean too. Something bad, very bad, happened to you. I… I wanted to fly to Cali. If I had more money, I would have."
"Mark… I said not now. Please. I just can't."
"Tiff… ok."
She got dressed and went to bed as she was exhausted. He stayed out on the couch, worried about her and not sleeping. Around three am, she got up and went to the bathroom. When she came out, she saw he was awake and came to sit with him. He put his arms around her and she tensed up.
"Tiff! Tiff, it's me. It's Mark. I will never hurt you, I promise. Whatever happened, it wasn't me. I would do anything to keep you from getting hurt… you know that. 'Kay?"
She loosened up and sagged against him, silently crying. He held her until he noticed she was lightly snoring. He slowly leaned them back, letting her sleep as he wondered what the hell had happened to her. He let her sleep long enough that he eventually drifted off as well, still holding her.
In the morning, Mark woke up first. He looked over at his sister, still sleeping. He had his arm around her as they lay on the couch, holding her just under her breasts. He could feel the bottom of them resting on his arm. He began to slowly move, mostly because the bathroom was calling him. He almost managed to get away, but the last movement of his arm away from her woke her.
"Hey, Mark… morning."
"Morning… you ok, Tiff?"
"I will be. Thanks for last night."
"What did I do?"
"You were… here. That's all you needed to be."
He went to the bathroom, washing his face and combing his hair as well. He came out and she went straight in. He pulled out some biscuits and put them in the oven, getting out his syrup. She took her time cleaning up, so he was pulling the biscuits out just as she came out.
"Biscuits and syrup… you do remember!"
"It's been your favorite for years, I was just hoping you still liked it."
"Love it! All my friends in California thought I was nuts. Thanks, Mark."
"Just about the least I could do."
They ate and talked of her time in California and his back here. He had managed to get a few hundred miles from home, mostly because he had to. Their father had left when they were six, and their mother was not exactly the nurturing type. She began drinking heavily as they got older, causing them to get closer and to want to get away from her. He left at 18 when he got his factory job. Tiffany had stuck it out for two extra years, although she had stayed with him on numerous occasions when their mother was drunk and mean. They still made the pilgrimage home at Christmas, but that was it. They both knew she was killing herself slowly, but no matter how much pleading they did she wouldn't change. He had managed to stay with the same company and moved 270 miles away just after she had moved to California.
They talked some of their mother, knowing Christmas was but a few months away. She needed his wifi password so she could job hunt. Mundane things, useful things, but nothing that Mark wanted to talk about.
When breakfast was over, he let her in the shower first. He was cleaning his bedroom, taking things to the trash, when she popped out of the bathroom in a towel. He almost ran her over, tap dancing around her with his trash bag. She shrieked, throwing her arms out for balance. The towel chose to not hang around this party and left her as it floated slowly to the ground. She stopped, staring at the towel for a split second before picking it up and running to her room. Mark noticed two things: One, that she was still a beautiful young lady, and two, she had some serious bruising on her legs and a giant hickey on her breast. They were all faded, but still there.
Mark hesitated a moment before knocking on her door. "Just a sec!" He heard through the door, and a little later it opened. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking flustered.
"Hey Tiff. Sorry about that. But… I… saw some things I want to ask about."
She knew exactly what he was talking about. "Mark… not now. Please. I can't. I… I know what you saw, ok? Just… I can't right now."
He sat down beside her and gave her a hug. "I know something very bad happened to you. I knew it when it happened. I… won't make you tell me. Whenever you're ready, let me know. Please?"
"Sure. Thanks for waiting, thanks for being there last night."
"No worries, Tiff. No worries."
After they both were clean, she was in the living room looking for jobs when he came in with his keys. "Shouldn't we go look for some furniture for you?"
"Employment is probably more important. You can have the bed though, it's yours."
This was a game they had played since they first learned cuss words, and it was somehow comforting to be playing as children again. They continued until she ran out of words, then she looked up at him. "Not to be repetitive, but sometimes you really are a dick."
"I know. Learned it from my baby sister." He was nine minutes older than her.
She went back to the computer, and Mark kept cleaning. He found her phone in the bathroom, finding a contact that she had texted a lot the last two weeks. He copied Christine's information and went on about his business.
For lunch he made some grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Again, he knew she loved it. He had been stocking up on her favorites since she had let him know she was coming. After lunch, she was tired and took a nap on the couch for a while. He went to his bedroom and made a phone call.
"Uh, Hi, my name is Mark. Mark Andrews."
"Marie's brother?"
"Yeah… Tiffany's brother."
"I might be the only person out here who knows her first name is Tiffany… but you still have to prove it."
"Ok…. Uh… I know her favorite breakfast."
"If you know that, I'll believe you."
"Biscuits and syrup. No way for someone to guess that."
"Well… god it's gross, but you're right. Ok Mark, why are you calling me?"
"I… uh… how good of friends are you two?"
"She stayed with me the last two weeks, mostly."
"Oh, good. Uh… something happened to her out there. I don't know what it was, she won't tell me, and I'm going crazy. I can't help her if I don't know."
"Shit… Mark, I don't know if I can or should tell you that."
"Look, I don't need details. I just need a place to start. Christine, she's broken. I need to know or I can't help."
"(sigh) Look Mark… I like her a lot. If she finds out I told you, she'll cut me off. I don't want that. But I know she needs help…."
There was silence for almost 15 seconds before she began to talk again.
"Mark… she was raped. It was a date-rape. Troy drugged her. That's all I'm gonna tell you, ok? You really don't want the details, they haunt my nightmares still. She's been through it, and I know she needs help. Get her help, Mark. If there's anything I can do, call me back… I'll put you in my phone so I know who you are. She always had great things to say about you… She actually made me promise to marry you if you came to visit!"
Mark pounded his head on the wall, and Christine heard it. "Mark, you ok?"
"I need to know who to kill, Christine." He said through gritted teeth.
"I can't do that Mark. Fix her, focus on her, ok? You going to jail won't help. Maybe later, not now. Take care of her, OK? OK Mark?"
Silence for almost a minute before Mark finally answered. "Christine… I will. I will take care of her. I will also find this guy, and that's a promise."
"Her first, ok?"
"Call me if you need anything, or if something happens, ok?"
Christine hung up. Mark slowly put his phone down, walking out to the kitchen. He saw his sister sleeping on the couch and immediately the rage began to rise. Who would hurt her? Who would be such an animal? He turned and punched the wall, hard as he could. His fist went through the drywall, leaving a hole. He punched twice more, leaving three holes as his sister came up to him.
"Mark… Mark! What happened?"
"Nothing happened to me."
"Mark… you haven't done this since you were a teenager! What happened?"
He didn't answer, just stared at her. She began to cry and his heart began to melt. He pulled her in to him, holding her. She began to sob harder and he walked them back to the sofa. He sat her down and pulled her away. "Why are you crying?"
"I… I hurt you somehow. That's the only time you did this. I don't even know what I did!"
"It… isn't something you did. You've done nothing wrong!"
"Then why?"
He stared into her eyes, she looking into his. She saw the truth there, putting her head down. "How much do you know?" she said very quietly.

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