Ethan closed his eyes as his mother's words struck him abruptly. He felt the urge to tell them. But he also felt the urge to keep quiet about that topic until Ingrid finally decided to talk to them concerning it. He knew that his parents would boil like lava over her when they discovered, but if he was present when they confronted Ingrid, they would perhaps not even shout at her, let alone punish her for such a stupid act. He really loved his younger sister.
"Nothing…" He told them. "She was just moving around when I had warned her not to. I found her talking to some guy and I reacted instantly by taking her to her room and talked some sense into her."
"Talk? You found her only talking with that guy?" Layla stressed out.
"Fine." Ethan rolled his eyes. "She was kissing this one guy! That's all." He told them, hoping that would make her mother shut up about the topic.
"SHE WAS WHAT!" Paul almost rose from his seat in a sudden bolt of anger.
"Dad. Cool down. I dealt with the guy."
"Did they only kiss?" Layla asked. Ethan face palmed himself once again. He didn't want the Ingrid conversation to continue and the two were well steering their little talk in that direction.
"What are you suggesting?" Ethan inquired.
"That they maybe had… sex?" Layla answered grimly.
"Ingrid didn't have sex at the party," Ethan answered. She had it two weeks before and gotten pregnant from it. He thought. "That, I am a hundred percent sure."
"Why didn't you tell us sooner? About the kiss." Paul asked. The questions seemed like they were never going to stop.
"You had my problems to deal with so I thought that I'd spare you guys unnecessary drama. Come on, everything's cool. I advised Ingrid that night and I talked with the guy. He's to never set foot in your house again."
"It's 'our' house. Not 'yours.' Okay?" Paul intervened. "It's ours!"
Deep inside him, Ethan felt warmed by his answer. He wasn't expecting that response to come from him… not at all. But even so, he couldn't be sure of how his father took him. He wanted to talk with his mom alone, how he would get his father away from the table troubled him, until...
"Dad, Zayn is here."
"Zayn?" Paul asked, brows conjoined in confusion. "Zayn Somerhalder?" The name popped up immediately in his mind.
"Yes. He's here." He looked at them worriedly.
"Was he the one who did this to you?" Layla's anguish voice rose as she started breathing heavily. That name never bore good memories.
"No… come on, this was an accident! He's been in solitary since I first came here."
"How did he end up here?" Paul asked. The last time he knew of Zayn's whereabouts was sixteen years ago when he was serving for the pre-meditated murder of his son, Dylan, in a certain juvie back in Colorado. When he moved his family to Seattle, Washington, they never mind keeping track of the boy who had ended their son's life. They had promised to begin life anew, and that's what happened. For all he knew was that his sentence against Dylan's murder still had some time on the clock.
"Ethan, have you ever spoken to him?" Layla questioned him, with her voice being carried by painful memories.
"No." He shook his head.
"When is he coming out, from solitary?" Paul asked.
"Next week."
"No… no… no." Paul grunted as he got up from his seat. "You cannot stay near that man. If you're sure that he's here, then you can't stay near him. He… he… no!" He shook his head as he seemed few of words.
"I'm pretty sure that he doesn't recognize me now." Ethan budged.
"I don't care. The last time we took it for granted. And we paid so severely. Now I cannot make such a stupid mistake like that again!" Paul rose from his seat.
"Honey, where are you going?" Layla asked, worriedly.
"I'm going to talk to whoever is in charge of this place, right now!" Paul answered her before he turned to his son. "I'm going to make sure that you are transferred to a facility back home, where you're much safer. The south isn't a nice place for the Purcells." He walked over to Ethan and brushed his hair slightly. "Nobody's messing with my family anymore. No one." Ethan nodded in return. "Stay strong son, I'm going to help you. See you two in a few minutes."
And with that, Paul walked away from the table as he headed for the visitors' main door—just as Ethan wanted. He turned to his mother.
"Mom, dad is gone, good!" Ethan exclaimed. "I need to tell you something."
"What is it? You lied about Zayn being here?"
"No, no… not that… Zayn is here."
"Then what is it that you want to tell me?"
"Earlier on, you asked me if I did it… you know? If I really raped her?"
"Did you?" Layla asked as she took his hands into hers once again. She looked worried from the way she was staring at him.
"I… um, I… it's complicated. Mom, that illness that your family died of… can it affect the brain too?" He asked.
"No… why, why do you ask?" Layla asked, confused. Her eyebrows had shot up from the sudden question.
"Mom, I don't know what happened to me…" He cried out to her as his voice started turning heavy once again. "Something happened and I snapped. Mom, I raped her."
"Tell me it's not true… tell me it's not true," Layla stressed as she wiped her stray tear.
"I did it, mom." Ethan shrugged. "I don't know what happened. But I… oh my god, I'm so stupid!"
"You don't know what happened?" Layla caressed his hands further before the annoying officer came to tear them apart once again. One of these fine days, Ethan was going to come up with a nickname for this guy for the way he never gave anyone peace. He walked away after his little victory.
"I say I don't know what happened, because mom I don't. One moment we were perfectly making out, and the next I see how she's been terribly hurt. By me. I wasn't in control of myself and I hurt her so bad." Ethan shed a tear and dear mom wiped it away instantly with her thumb. Being that close to him, made her feel alive. She had missed his face, let alone his warm voice. Even though he looked like he was in pain, she accepted that this was the best she could afford for now.
"Don't cry, don't cry, son. Don't." Layla calmed him down. "I know it's a lot to tell and share, and I know it's hurtful. But tell me… I wanna hear your words. Don't be afraid. Tell me. Please."
"So um," He sniffed, "that's why I was asking if that disease affected the brain too mom. I need to know. Yesterday as I was praying, an idea popped in my mind if that was the reason."
"No, Ethan, I'm sorry, but it doesn't affect the brain… only the—"
"Yeah, yeah… I know." He agreed in disarray not wanting to listen to the end of her statement. "I was just wondering if somehow it affected me too and that night was when it fully manifested itself. Mom, I never raped her on purpose. Something happened."
"But what?" Layla asked.
"I don't know. Something else was in control."
"Ethan, the evidence says that…"
"I don't care what the evidence says," Ethan muttered. "Mom, my brain was simply absent. I'm telling you this because I know that you can help me."
"But how? Where do I start?" Layla took a long look at him, clearly studying his face. "Ethan…" she gulped. "Do you think that… he is responsible?"
"Who?"
"Lance."
His heart skipped a beat immediately. His eyes widened as his mouth opened, sucking air to the shock. His mind plundered deep inside its lost thoughts as the name mentioned rang in his mind like a bell. Lance Harper. How? He was hoping that it was something to do with his health. Perhaps it was a brain malfunction. Perhaps it was something that had sprung up in his body that took over that night, which could exempt him from the charges. Perhaps it was the strange illness that had attacked his mother's family many years ago that had come back once again. Never in the wildest dreams had he ever thought that it might have been Lance. But then again, how could he?
"Lance? How?" He asked.
"You're the one here who's saying that you don't trust him near Elena's baby… I mean your baby. So what are the odds that he did all this to make sure that you were locked up? So that he could be with Elena."
"I dunno mom, Lance didn't do anything to me. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm positive that he didn't."
"Wait, I want you to reason with me…" Layla calmly told him. "During that party, was there ever a moment you drank a beer or water with him?"
"Um, I… I can't quite remember…" Ethan stressed as he closed his eyes in avail to recall. "Wait, yeah… the toast. The toast!" He mumbled sharply.
"What about it?"
"Yes, that was the only time I drank wine with him…"
"And did you do as we had told you, ever since he showed up again in our lives?" Layla asked as she scoured his face.
"Yes, you told me that whenever Lance offered me something to drink or eat, I take his and he takes mine, that way… whatever bad thing he might be having in 'my' drink or food, he'll get to drink it, and I don't. Yes, I did that." Layla scratched the scalp of her hair in haste.
"Mom, are you trying to say that Lance drugged me?" Ethan bolted at her. Layla muffled and shrugged at him in touché. "No, no... I don't think so." Ethan said as he closed his eyes again. "Lance might hate me but he… he couldn't do that to me."
"I don't know Ethan, I'm just suggesting ideas."
"Wait, I have one for you."
"What do you mean?"
"I think I know who might have an idea of how I ended up here if you're adding drugging to the equation."
"Who?"
Ethan looked at his mother daringly, with certainty marking its territory on his face. His eyes were decorated with rage.
"Shallon Padalecki. The preacher's daughter."
"Shallon? You mean that girlfriend of yours?"
"She was never my girlfriend."
"Okay, why her?"
"Because I now remember that she was the one who served me and Lance the drinks."
"Are you really sure? Ethan, I don't want to go seeking answers from places that might land you in trouble." Her rant was like a deadly whisper.
"I'm positive.." Ethan seamed in immediately. "She has this really long hair that was easily noticeable from her back despite the ponytail she had tied that day. I almost sipped the drink, but when I saw her hair dangling from her back, I stopped. It was her."
"Ethan… if this is true then it might help us, a lot. But I need you to remember carefully. Was it her? Did she do something to my baby boy?"
"I refused to date her since the first day she asked me, and who knows if she was just furious at me for that and mad at Lance for breaking up with her months earlier?"
Layla's heart skipped a beat as her son's words hit her. He looked like he was sure and sincere from the way he was speaking. She knew that Shallon and her family were one of the few famous families in Seattle since they had a church and conducted sermons in it. The Padalecki family was respected and loved by many for their good reputation to help the needy through their fundraisers and sponsorships. If a word would get to the public that their daughter was not the one they thought to be the sweet girl they'd known, then it would begin long unrest in the small Seattle community.
"Ethan are you really sure?" Layla asked, petrified.
"Yes. Because mom," Ethan told her once again with sincerity and bravery, "I never had a female waitress to serve that night."