Updated: May 6
Good morning Your Honor,
As you know, my name is Amber Elizabeth Preston. I believe it is important to share in my own words how this event has impacted my life.
On October 29th, 2017 we met for the first time at Yogis Bar and Grill. We struck up a conversation based on the fact that we had both attended Dublin Scioto High School. From the beginning you were adamant about how we had “hooked up” in High School, despite my insistence that we had not. We connected on Facebook and exchanged friendly conversation over the span of a few days. Months later, on March 15th 2018, you messaged me on Facebook asking me if I wanted to meet up for a drink. I was unable to meet that day, so we made plans for the following day. On March 16th we met at Classic’s Bar after you suggested the meeting place. Your territory.
In our conversation over Messenger, there was zero mention of the possibility of me joining your “team” for your network marketing company- the first intention of the meeting that you testified under oath. You then back tracked and testified saying that you had extended your invitation to your roommate and thought about “hooking me up with him. So from the beginning I was merely a transaction to you. You saw me to be another host in your parasitic company that sucks income from innocent people, or you were going to pass me on to your roommate like I was a commodity to be trafficked around from person to person. Had you have mentioned your “intentions” anytime during our conversation over Messenger, then I would have stated my detest for MLM companies, and that no I wasn’t interested in meeting up with you so you could introduce me to your roommate. But that was truly never either of your intentions- despite your testimony.
We met up at Classic’s Bar on March 16th at 2:30 in the afternoon. I arrived first and ordered you your requested drink; Maker’s neat. To this day anytime I see the bottle of Amber colored liquor with the red wax dripping down the neck like blood gives me flashbacks to that day. We talked like new friends do. We talked about work and hobbies; the usual topics that people discuss on a date. I told you about my journey through breast cancer- being diagnosed at 28 years old. I told you about my chemotherapy treatments, radiation treatments and my bilateral mastectomy. I told you that my ex husband (that you had met the first time back in October 2017) had married me right after my diagnoses and then left 6 months after. We mused over the fact that we had both gone back to our ex’s multiple times. You told me about your work in telecommunications, and real estate. You ordered wings from Luna’s. The first order wasn’t cooked correctly, so you sent them back.
You suggested a game of pool, and that we play for a bet. The loser gives the winner a back massage. I obliged even though I knew I would definitely lose. Billiards was never my forte. You seemed distracted with your phone, and excused yourself to go outside to smoke. I had witnessed this behavior from my ex before. The distracted, disengaged interaction, coupled with unapologetic excessive texting. My friend Michelle, her husband and mother were going to another bar near by and I said that the date was probably coming to an end and that I would be along soon. The bill came for the drinks we both had. I paid. $20.00
I invited you to tag along since I had already made plans with them for later in the afternoon out of a courtesy. You said yes, but that we should take each of our cars back to your place, get a drink there and then Uber to Yogis Frantz. You lived at the Goat in Dublin, which would make it only a 10 min Uber ride to Yogis. By this time it was close to 4:30 in the afternoon. I followed behind your Jag- yes the one that is featured in your cover photo on Facebook. I thought to myself “good for him- he’s doing really well for himself”. I am the person who is genuinely happy for people when they work hard and are successful in their endeavors.
We met your roommate- the one you wanted to set me up with, and his daughter as we walked up the stairs to your condo. I remember him carrying several bags of groceries. We talked in the kitchen that was off the living room with the red walls for a few minutes. I talked with his daughter about My Little Pony. She was the same age as my Grace.
You suggested we go downstairs for a drink. We walked down the first small flight to a landing, then down the second. The atmosphere was a 180 from the level above. It was dark and cold. There was just a mattress with a sheet laying on the ground off to the side. There were empty water bottles and empty liquor bottles strewn across the floor.
You took off your shirt saying that you were ready to cash in on your back massage. I immediately felt uncomfortable and texted my friend Michelle to call me so that I could politely excuse myself. Who I am today would have just left. I wouldn’t have cared more about hurting your feelings, than my safety. But you were betting on that.
You pulled me on the mattress- yes the one on the ground. I gave you the most un-enthusiastic massage in history. I stood up and went to grab my things so I could leave. You pushed me hard back on to the mattress. You got on top of me straddling me. You started unbuttoning my pants. I said no. You didn’t listen. You took down my pants. I said no. You didn’t listen. You pulled my underwear to the side and shoved your fingers into my vagina. I said no and tried to sit up. You shoved me back down. I hit my head on the wall. You put your hands on my throat and squeezed hard. I could feel your fingernails. I knew then I had to stop fighting so hard because if I didn’t you would hurt me more. Maybe even kill me. You took off my jeans but left my shirt on. Why? Was it the fact that you didn’t want to see my mastectomy scars? Would you be disgusted by that? I racked my mind with different tactics that I could use to get you off of me. I asked for a drink. You said you didn’t have anything. You said you were just going to “put the tip in”. I said no. You didn’t listen. You repeatedly shoved your penis inside of me. I felt the ripping. It hurt so bad. I asked for lube- another plea to interrupt the pain. You said you didn’t have any. I felt the tearing. Every thrust it ripped even more. You turned me over and tried to put your penis inside of my butthole. I cried out in pain. You couldn’t get it in, so you stuck your penis back in my vagina and finished. I focused on the rhythm of my head banging against the wall as you finished. It was finally over.
You tossed over a used towel for me to wipe myself off. I quickly put my pants on and left without speaking.
“You bounced like that”. That’s the message you sent me 5 min after you raped me. I sat in my car overwhelmed with fear and confusion. I didn’t know what to do. I was ashamed and I didn’t know why.
I responded with “Yeah I did. I felt forced to have sex. I’m not going to #metoo or that bullshit. But you need to know- choking a woman shows dominance and said no more than twice... tonight was not a pleasurable act. It was forced and uncomfortable. I’m letting you know this for future... don’t do that shit to other women.*i said no” Even then- hours after my focus was on preventing you from doing this to another woman. My heart raced anticipating your reply. Was that message too direct? What if he comes after me or Grace? The intense paranoid insomnia would be the first of many that would follow. You never responded. My only regret in sending that message what the judgment I passed on the MeToo movement. At that time I didn’t understand the anger. The outrage. I do now, and will work tirelessly to support the movement.
The day after the rape I continued as if nothing happened. I was in survival mode as my therapist explains. Sunday- 36 hours later I found the courage to report the rape and I called my friend Merisa, who also happens to be an attorney. She walked me through the logistics on how to report a sexual assault.
I drove myself to the Dublin police station. It took me 10 min to even get the courage to walk in to the building. I picked up the phone they had in the lobby- no actual human was present. “Hi I’m here to report a sexual assault.” The voice on the other end was a man. No one came out. It was just me- talking to a wall and a man on the other side. He said since the assault happened in a different jurisdiction I would have to go to the Hilliard Police. He gave me the address over the phone and I left. I could’ve just gone home. Nothing had been reported yet. They didn’t even ask me my name. No one would even know I had been there.
I drove the 15 min to the Hilliard police station and met with an officer to give my statement. He gave me directions to Dublin Methodist and said he would call ahead to let them know I was coming over. I drove myself to the hospital.
At the hospital I gave my statement again to the SANE nurse Anne Stephens. My body was examined and swabbed for your DNA. My abrasions on my neck from the strangulation were measured and photographed. Toluidine Blue Dye was used in my vagina and then photographed so that the 3 vaginal tares could be properly documented, and would be displayed for the court to view during trial. A cocktail of antibiotics, the morning after pill, tetanus shot and other drugs were administered as preventive measures since you didn’t use any form of protection when you raped me.
Another officer from Columbus Police came in and asked me for my statement. Detective Benham. He said that the rape had occurred in Columbus jurisdiction- not Hilliard and that I would need to give my statement to him. Again.
My friend asked me if I wanted her help in getting a protection order. Was that something I needed I asked? She asked for your name and she said she would do some research to see if you had any prior violence charges against women. You did. Her name was also Amber. Amber Elizabeth Parker. The resemblance and similarities between us are astounding. I went that first Monday after you raped me and testified under oath for the first time to a Judge here for a sexually oriented civil protection order. He granted it ex parte. When you were served the protection order papers you answered the door. The process server had a picture of you with him in case you denied who you were- which you did. At the full hearing, I had to testify again, under oath, the horrible and graphic details of what you did. Based on my testimony, the Court granted me the full five year Sexually Oriented CPO. I did what a lot of women can’t do or don’t know to do.
You were interviewed by Detective Benham. You laughed at the photo he showed you of one of my old drivers licenses. My hair had just grown back in from chemo when I had that picture taken. You refused the DNA swab, even though you claimed you have been 100% cooperative.
Months went by with no news- nothing done. Then an email response from Detective Benham had been replied with his notice that he had been transferred to another department, and that my case was now being managed by Sargent Phelphry. Another detective and another statement was made. Sargent Phelphry was a Godsend, and when he heard that you were due in court for a DUI charge he jumped through the necessary hoops to get a court ordered DNA swab. Law enforcement had to force you to give a swab.
Months later in August 2018 you were arrested. You hired the most expensive bulldog attorney in Columbus and made bail 3 days later.
September 16 2019, trial began. You had the opportunity to hand pick the jury. You picked 8 women and 4 men. YOU did that. And that jury that you picked found YOU guilty on 3 counts of rape. Because that is what you did. You raped me. It wasn’t a situation of “buyer’s remorse” on my part. It wasn’t a situation of misunderstanding. It. Was. RAPE. As your previous attorney Sam Shamansky- yes the one you fired because you have to blame everyone else but yourself for your own demise, said “it’s time to take responsibility”. NONE of which you have done. You have whined and lied on countless affidavits crying you didn’t receive a fair trial from a jury that you picked. You blamed your attorney. You blamed the system. You blamed me.
During trial you used every method to discredit me, and even had the audacity to say you were the one who “felt used” because I left immediately after the rape, and that you were the “true victim here”. Women who have consensual sex don’t run away immediately after. When you were asked by the Prosecution if at any time you heard me say “no”, you replied “yes”, that you did in fact hear me say “no”. But that didn’t matter to you. You only wanted to succeed in your “conquest” of “smashing it” by any means necessary- those words used by your roommate’s riveting testimony. To sit under oath and inform us all that it was consensual sex, even after openly admitting that you did hear me say “no”, shows that you do not have the mental capacity or physical control of not continuing your reign of destruction towards women if you were allowed leniency.
Now to the impact this has made on my life. I have been diagnosed with PTSD with severe Anxiety and Depression. I go to bed medicated and I live my day medicated. I moved my daughter and me in with my parents because I cannot function or parent without them. You have robbed my daughter of a whole and complete mother. I am broken because of you. I live in constant fear of retribution from your family and friends. I had a life altering surgery (a hysterectomy) to prevent a reoccurrence from the immense amount of stress this has caused, but also as a means make me less appealing to men. I’m 33 and most men my age want to meet a women they can procreate with. I got rid of that because I don’t ever want to be touched by a man again. I’ve lost friendships because I am scared to go out at night, and rarely socialize or do anything outside of work or spending time with my daughter. I’ve missed weeks worth of work to meet with therapists, detectives, the prosecution, and other related court hearings. I’ve spent, and will continue to have to spend, thousands of dollars on out of pocket costs due to the trauma of Kyle J Williams.
I’m not ready to pray for you or your family today, and that is my right. I’m angry- and that is also is my right. But do know that I have asked others to pray for you and your family on my behalf. Not for mercy- you deserve whatever judgment is passed on, but that you are sent away and provided with the necessary measures and therapy needed to make you not hurt any more women. Because one day- whenever that maybe, you will get out and will have to become an actual contributing member of society for the first time in your life.
In conclusion, I’d like to take a moment to say thank you to the State of Ohio- the prosecution for representing me so powerfully on my behalf. Thank you for your tireless efforts in the pursuit of justice. Thank you to Sargent Phelphry for your admirable work on my case and kindness throughout this whole process. Thank you to Anne Stephens who’s gentle demeanor towards me during the most invasive exam of my life gave me the courage to allow every inch of my body to be collected for evidence. Thank you to my friend and Marsy’s law attorney Merisa Bowers for being by my side and holding my hand throughout this entire process. Thank you to the men and women who fought to enact that law, so that I could have rights as a victim. Thank you to my parents, who have given me strength when I had none. Who cared for me when I could not care for myself or Grace, who loved me when I could not love myself. Thank you to the brave women who have come forward to me with their own stories of violence and rape from Kyle Williams. It saddens me that we share the same commonality, but you each give me strength on my darkest days knowing that everything I endured through this process was for you and other women as well. To girls everywhere, I am with you.
Judge Frye, today I ask you for maximum sentencing. You have been made aware of the several other women that have come forward with their own stories of physical and sexual assault by the hands of Kyle Williams that only escalates in violence with each assault. Today I ask that you honor them and me with sentencing Kyle Williams with maximum time served.
Kyle J Williams was sentenced to 9 years mandatory prison time (no early release), lifetime registered tier 3 Sex Offender, $10,000 fine and $9,630 in restitution.