A Boyfriend who Likes to Play Pranks - Chapter 4

“That’s impossible!” I cried. “How can it not be him?”

If it wasn’t Mark, then who was it? Why would he lie? My mind spun.

The officer, seeing my distress, rushed to my side. “Ms. Miller, please calm down. We need you to try and remember everything you can about that night…”

Her voice faded. Flashes of that night assaulted me. The dark alley, the dirt, the ripping fabric… I couldn’t breathe. Exhaustion, stress, and the trauma crashed over me. The room went black. I woke up in a hospital bed.

The doctor said I’d collapsed from stress and had been unconscious for a day. My parents were there, their eyes red–rimmed from worry.

An officer was with them. He said he just wanted to check on me, but when I asked about the case, he hesitated.

“Jenna, let’s talk about this when you’re feeling better. You’ve been through a lot…” My mom stroked my hair.

Their concern only fueled my anxiety. Why were they looking at me with such pity?

“Officer, has there been a break in the case? Please, just tell me. I can handle it. I need to know.” 

He sighed, pulling up a chair. “My name is Detective Sullivan. Mark Thompson confessed last night.”

“Confessed to what?”

“He confessed to soliciting someone to rape you.”

I stared at the ceiling, the words slowly sinking in. Solicited… So it wasn’t Mark. It was someone else. My last shred of hope crumbled. I was silent for a long time.

I finally turned to Detective Sullivan, my face a mask of despair. “Who?”

“His cousin, David Thompson.”

I vaguely remembered the name. David was two years younger than Mark, a high school dropout who’d drifted from odd jobs to a brief stint as a mechanic’s apprentice before landing in the city, chasing empty promises of opportunity.

He’d ended up a petty criminal. He’d come to our apartment once, for dinner. I hadn’t liked him. Shifty eyes, a sly smile. After he left, I noticed a Chanel necklace missing from my dresser. I suspected him, and Mark had gotten defensive when I brought it up. I’d told Mark never to bring him over again.

“Why?” I croaked. “What was his motive?”

Detective Sullivan’s face tightened. “According to Mark, he wanted you pregnant.”

“What?” I stared at him, incredulous. The detective looked uncomfortable. “He said… he said that he comes from a modest background, and your family is well–off…”

He explained that Mark wanted to marry me, partly because he cared about me, but also for my family’s money. He’d been playing the long game, showering me with affection and attention, knowing he’d never find anyone.

I was an only child. My parents owned a small business. I was set to inherit everything. Mark wanted a piece of that pie. He’d hinted at marriage several times, but I’d always brushed him off, saying I was too young, focused on my career.

He stopped asking, but his desire to lock me down intensified. He was terrified I’d meet someone else, someone more successful.

“Why his cousin?” I asked.

The detective hesitated. “Because Mark Thompson has Kartagener syndrome. It’s a… a form of male infertility.”

I was stunned.

“We checked his medical records. It’s true.”

He said Mark had secretly replaced my birth control pills, but after months, I hadn’t gotten pregnant. Unsure why, he’d finally gone to see a doctor. The diagnosis had sent him into a panic. He was convinced I’d leave him if I found out.

So he’d devised a plan. A plan to get me pregnant, forcing me to marry him.

“So Mark hired David, staged this whole ‘prank,‘ had his cousin rape me, and planned to take the blame, hoping I’d forgive him, thinking I was pregnant, and we’d get married…” My voice trailed off.

“Yes,” the detective confirmed. “Mark offered David three thousand dollars. David, who was deep in debt from payday loans, and who already resented you, agreed.”

So David Thompson had raped me, at my boyfriend’s behest. The memories flooded back, vivid and brutal. The alley, the dirt, the violation…