The Pretty Ones

by Jamie Lee Fry

  I can let this sexy man take the helm for a few minutes. I will take back some power later, but right now, I will give in. I’ve read Fifty Shades of Grey, so I know what to expect from a man like this.

  I relax my body, close my eyes and take a deep breath in, feeling like Anastasia did with Christian Grey.

  I prepare myself for the Red Room of Pain, but he is soft and gentle. My hands are tied up, but the sex is sweet. Nothing to be afraid of, Jenny.

  He is smooth with his thrusts as he continually pushes his way into me. He continues to kiss my neck softly until he finishes.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad now, was it? I think you kinda enjoyed the little thrill of it all,” he asks.

  I blush. “It was a little exciting,” I admit.

  He unties me. We lie together naked for a few minutes before the realization hits us. “We’re going to be late,” we both spout out in unison.

  I wince at the thought of my sex hair. I spent so much time getting ready and now I look like a hot mess, I’m sure.

  “Our little sexual detour might cost us our table at the steak house,” I say to him in a sexy tone.

  “I will choose you over steak any day, baby,” he jokes.

  CHAPTER 29

  Charlie

  March 2008

  My foot taps impulsively under the table. I’m more irritated than normal with Liam’s tardiness. Each time the door swings open and it’s not him, I lose hope. Is he really going to leave me hanging? He wouldn’t stand me up, would he? I gnaw anxiously on my nails until my fingers are red.

  I’m at our usual table with our usual drinks. Everything is set up as it should be.

  I run through all the reasons he could be late. Perhaps his loud muffler finally fell off?

  Maybe his niece needed a last-minute sitter.

  Maybe he is working late in the darkroom again.

  Calm down, Charlie, I’m sure he has a good excuse. You’re overreacting.

  I pull out my laptop to try and take my mind off him for a minute but it’s not working. My anxiety accelerates with each passing minute. My shaking legs are now vibrating the table.

  The bell rings across the street. I slam my laptop shut and push it into my backpack.

  I grab my drink and walk toward the door glancing back. A Medium Americano with Liam’s name written in black sharpie sits on top of our lonely table. If he arrives and finds his cup, he will know that I was here, and he missed me.

  Tears fill my eyes as I run out of Coffee Loon. This is not how things are supposed to be going.

  CHAPTER 30

  Jenny

  March 2008

  I invited Charlie over for a girls’ night so I can check in and gauge how she is doing since her panic attack. I picked up her favorite Hawaiian pizza. I’m still not sure how I’m going to approach this since my brother-in-law doesn’t want me to directly ask her about it. I can’t help but feel like I’m about to play mind games with my niece.

  Charlie walks through the door in her usual oversized hoodie, sweatpants, and tennis shoes. She plops herself down at the table and goes in for a slice of pizza before even acknowledging my presence. I can’t help but study her actions. She looks different and something is off with her. This is the first time I’m noticing a change in her behavior. Was she acting like this before, and we honestly didn’t notice?

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  “Hi,” she responds. No silly or witty banter follows. She sits in silence as she eats her pizza.

  I pull up a chair and put a slice on my plate.

  “Only a couple of months left of high school. The countdown is on,” I say in an upbeat tone.

  “Yep.”

  “I feel like we haven’t gossiped in a while. What’s going on with everyone at school. I haven’t seen Zoey or Mike around lately. What’s going on with them?”

  “Mike’s been busy. I don’t even know if I’d call him a friend anymore. I haven’t seen him all semester, really. Zoey is starting to annoy me. Always asking me to hang out and I’m busy with school. I don’t have time and she gets mad at me for it.”

  “Well, I’m sure Zoey is just going to miss you and is afraid you will drift apart when you’re both away at school. I hope you don’t let that happen, Charlie. Zoey is a good friend. One you should keep forever.”

  “Whatever. It is what it is,” Charlie responds harshly and without heart.

  “Anything else going on?” I press on.

  “Oh my gosh, Jenny. You’re being really annoying right now. Can you just drop it? Nothing is going on. Everything is boring. I’m almost done with school and this place.”

  She’s never given me a lick of attitude before. Something is eating at her, but what on earth could it be?

  “What movie should we watch tonight?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “I think I’m just going to head home. I’m tired. Thanks for the pizza.” She grabs another slice and walks out the door while eating it.

  I‘m left dumbfounded. What the hell was that?

  Maybe she is worried about her life changing and potentially not handling the upcoming change well. Or she could be getting bullied again at school. I remember her sixth-grade bully, Sophia—the pretty little girl with brown hair and freckles. It was a hard year for Charlie. She didn’t know how to stand up for herself and she let Sophia bully her all year long. Joan tried to talk to Sophia’s parents, but they didn’t want to know. Luckily Sophia and her family moved to Seattle, and the bully problem solved itself. Charlie never learned how to cope with a tormentor. Charlie can be very sensitive and always wants to please others. She also prefers to go unnoticed by most people. She is lucky to have Zoey and Mike as friends. They are a little nerdy, but they are good friends—or certainly were—and they all understood each other’s weird social quirks. Charlie would be content not having any friends at all and just staying at home eating takeout and reading a good book. I’ve tried hard to build her confidence. I’ve let her borrow my clothes, which, of course, didn’t fit her as they should, but were still an improvement over her usual clothes. I’ve tried to do her hair to help her learn how to style it. I’ve lent her my good jewelry for the school dances I drove her to, but I doubt she ever even went inside. She probably had a book in her purse and sat at the coffee shop across the street for all I know. I’ve tried to get her excited about college by telling her stories from my university life. Things get better once you go to college. No one knows you, so you get to reinvent yourself. Parties are better and the boys are different—you meet people from all over the country. Of course, I mentioned how great the libraries are, to keep her attention.

  I worry for my Charlie Bear. I honestly don’t know what else could be eating at my little book worm.

  CHAPTER 31

  Jenny

  March 2008

  I’m still giddy each time he calls to set up a date. I wasn’t expecting him to call tonight. I had told him I was busy, so I’m shocked when I see his name on my phone. I can’t stop thinking about Charlie and her actions earlier tonight, so I answer his call, welcoming the distraction.

  “Hey, doll, I know you said you’re busy tonight, but I hoped maybe later I can swing by with a bottle of wine, and we can make a night of it?”

  “Sure, why not? My plans changed,” I reply.

  “OK, I’ll head your way now. See ya in a bit.”

  While I wait for him to arrive, I think about the little white envelope sitting in the top drawer of my desk. What does it mean? Is it about him? Perhaps about my little secret or something else entirely? I truly don’t understand why someone would have left that on my car. Maybe someday I will have an answer.

  ***

  When he arrives with the wine, I pour us each a glass, and we sit on the couch. We always start on the couch, then we eventually make our way to the bedroom. He has been sweet and playful since our twine night. I smile each time I think of that evening being tied up in my bed. He has not brought the twine out again, alt
hough I secretly hope he will tonight.

  “How was your day?” I ask him

  “Pretty uneventful, yours?” He responds.

  “Nothing exciting here either,” I say. I don’t want to complicate my little secret and tell him about my family problems. I’m not ready to mix my two worlds right now.

  “Well, it’s a good thing we have tonight to look forward to. It sounds like we could both use a little excitement in our day,” he says mischievously.

  We finish half the bottle of wine while we cuddle, watching TV. He leans in every few minutes and gives me soft, sweet kisses on my forehead. In that moment, I feel like maybe this is something more serious than I originally thought, which changes everything.

  “What do you say we take this into the bedroom?” he says, playfully pulling me off the couch.

  I give him a sultry grin and allow him to lead me to my bed. He slams the door shut behind us.

  His soft touch changes as soon as he starts undressing me. He is swift and boorish with his movements. His gentle, sweet caresses that I have grown accustomed to are not present. No tender kisses all over my body. It doesn’t feel right.

  “What’s the rush?” I ask.

  He nuzzles his head roughly into my breasts and ignores my question. I wrap my fingers through his thick brown hair and pull his head up to my face. I kiss him and he kisses me back and bites my lip, a little too hard.

  “Ouch, careful, that hurt,” I warn him

  I start to unbutton his shirt, but he pulls away and finishes undressing himself fast.

  “What’s with you tonight?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he coldly responds.

  I reach down to grab my shirt that’s coiled up on the floor. “I’m not feeling this anymore. I think you should go.”

  He stops my hand and tosses the shirt back on the floor.

  “Sorry,” he says. But I don’t sense sincerity in his words.

  What is going on with him? I’ve never, not once, seen him act like this. What has caused his 180-degree turn in his behavior?

  “I really think you should go now. I’m not in the mood anymore,” I demand.

  He forcefully pushes me down onto the bed. I let out a slight shriek of startlement.

  “What are you doing?” I demand.

  “I’m giving you want you want,” he says. He forces himself on top of me. His tall and strong body has me pinned by his weight. He reaches down to his pants next to my bed and pulls something out of his pocket.

  Oh my God, does he really think I’m going to let him tie me up with that damn string right now?

  I regret my earlier thoughts about the twine.

  I wiggle my body below his and thrash my legs around, trying to struggle free. I hear a clank.

  Oh shit. Oh shit!

  He actually brought fucking handcuffs this time. The cuffs clink together as he pulls my arm up to the bedpost.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you tonight? Get off me, you sick fuck.” I thrust my body to try and push him off me. He doesn’t move. “I’m saying no. No, no, no. Do you hear me? Stop!”

  “What, you don’t trust me anymore?” he says with an eerie, unrecognizable voice. It seems to be lower. Threatening.

  I can feel him getting hard on top of me.

  He first locks one wrist to my bedpost and then the other. I’m stuck.

  I rock the bed with my whole body trying to free my hands, knowing darn well that this is a ridiculous idea. Stupid girl, you know you’re not getting out of this situation now.

  “Stop it. Please stop,” I plead.

  “Hush, Jenny. Relax,” he says calmly.

  “Why are you doing this? What is wrong with you?”

  I can’t believe what is happening right now.

  “I thought you wanted this, Jenny? I thought you liked our little sex game the other night?”

  “What happened to my sweet, sensitive man? Where the fuck did he go?” I cry.

  “Oh, Jenny, you knew this was me all along, and I thought you wanted it. You knew the day I walked into your office that you were going to sleep with me. I suspected that you would be easy the second I laid eyes on you. You just needed some sweet attention first. You could have said no to my advances, but you didn’t. You kissed me right back, and we fucked on your desk and then on your couch where your patients sit and tell you all their fucked-up problems. Did that turn you on, Jenny? Isn’t that fucked up, Jenny? You did that and you wonder what’s wrong with me? That’s funny.”

  “You sick asshole,” I scream.

  His body still has me pinned down and my arms won’t free. I’m screwed.

  “You were so nice and sweet and thoughtful. Who was that man?” I demand.

  “It’s been fun toying with you, Jenny. You know you could lose your license by sleeping with a patient. What would your family think? Do you think they would let you stay here if they found out what you’ve done?”

  “I’m going to call the cops!”

  “What, and risk losing it all? I know you won’t do that.”

  “Liam—you are messed up.”

  “Jenny, I don’t think you’re supposed to say that to a patient.” Liam laughs.

  My heart is racing. I thought I knew this man. How am I going to get out of this situation?

  “Jenny, it’s time to just let go and enjoy our little game,” Liam says with a devilish laugh.

  Liam thrusts inside me. There is nothing I can do to stop him. His eyes are wild with exhilaration. Tears rush from my eyes as I watch him get even more excited as he witnesses my struggles. He abruptly stops and leans forward.

  “Do you trust me?” he whispers in my ear.

  I don’t respond. Is he fucking joking?

  He peers into my eyes, and I watch as his eyes turn darker.

  He wraps his large, strong hands around my neck and presses down on my windpipe. I can’t breathe.

  Is this another one of his games? I don’t want to play.

  “No, no, no,” I manage to say.

  He smiles. “You like it nasty, you bitch.”

  A bang outside against my house stops him. I’m able to turn my head to the window.

  Is that Charlie? I try to shout at her, if that’s really her. I can’t tell. He pulls my head back. No, no, I’m lacking oxygen. I can’t breathe. Oh, God. Please. I gasp, but his hands are wrapped so tightly around my throat. It’s no longer a sex game. This is serious. He wants to really hurt me.

  I try to wrap my legs around his body to thrust him off me. Each time I get momentum, I lose my control. I feel my body getting weaker. My legs quiver until going completely limp.

  I see nothing but darkness.

  CHAPTER 32

  Jenny

  March 2008

  My throat is sore. I can’t swallow. My mouth is dry, and I desperately need water. I wipe the crusted tears out of the corner of my eyes.

  Terror surges over every cell in my body as my wrist comes into view. Blueish-purple bruises surround my entire wrist.

  Last night. The handcuffs. Liam.

  I’m shivering in fear, my body lying naked on my bed. Alone.

  He must have let me go. I check my other hand. It’s free from the handcuffs as well, with a similar bruise pushing its way to the surface. My eyes dart around the room, searching every corner. He is gone, and so is any evidence he was here last night. No Liam and no handcuffs.

  My left hand tenderly rubs the marks of the right hand’s bruise, all the while I am wishing all of this to have been just a bad nightmare but knowing darn well it was not. The evidence is on my wrists. It was real.

  A rustle comes from the living room. Is he still in my home? He can’t be.

  I want to scream. I massage my throat, remembering the choking. I doubt I could even get out a shriek. Even if I could, he would be in here before anyone else could help me. I must have blacked out from the lack of oxygen, or as a defense mechanism to stop the abuse. This realization shakes me to my core. I can’t hav
e him come back in here. I can’t take another round of his torture.

  This can’t be happening.

  I tightly wrap my naked body in my bedsheet and stumble into my bathroom.

  Once in the bathroom, I secure the lock behind me and press my ear up against the door. I don’t hear anything. I hope it was just my imagination. Why on earth would he stick around?

  My body slumps and slides down the door’s length, and I blend into the floor, curled up in the fetal position. I tightly swaddle my naked body in the sheet. I am safe in here. I think. I hope.

  Fear, sadness, and anger all wash over me at once.

  All that time, he was testing his limits to see what he could get away with before he made his final move. How did I not see this coming? I must be a piss poor psychologist if I didn’t notice his psychopathic tendencies. He was calculating and manipulating me, and then his cold-hearted demons came out to play last night.

  The smell of bacon wafts under my door. Is he making breakfast in my home after what he did last night?

  A loud, hard thump pounds against the door.

  He is here.

  “Jenny, I know you’re in there.”

  “Leave me alone, go away, Liam,” I cry.

  “Come out. I made us breakfast.” He insists.

  “Breakfast. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. After last night. After everything you said and did to me. Do you really think I’m going to come out and eat breakfast with you? What is wrong with you?” I scream and my voice breaks.

  My throat is tender from my outburst. I rub it again and wince from the pain that is fueling the fiery anger in me.

  “I came to you for help, Jenny. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? So, help me.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure you came to me because you wanted to manipulate me. You told me you had sleeping issues. I wanted to help you through that. You lied to me, Liam.”

  “I told you everything last night. I have a sex-addiction problem. I need help,” he pleads.