The pierced eye, inches above Toby’s face, jittered and squirted and shriveled as the drill whined.
The way Sid was thrashing about, Toby couldn’t hold the tool steady. It twisted this way and that, reaming out the socket. In seconds, the eye seemed to be gone. Blood was gushing out of the hole, drenching the power drill and Toby’s hand and face.
The blood made the trigger slippery. Toby’s finger slipped off it. The tool went silent.
Sid, still on top of him, was whimpering and shuddering.
Toby lowered the drill. The bit slowly emerged from the cavity of Sid’s socket.
“How’d you like them apples?” Toby asked.
Sid didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question,” Toby said.
Sid said nothing. He just whimpered and jerked.
“What’s the matter, your ears plugged?”
Not waiting for a response, Toby inserted the four-inch bit into his brother’s left ear. He pulled the trigger. As the tool whined, he pushed gently. The bit sank in.
Sid twitched and squealed.
Chapter Forty-one
Sherry had remained seated while Pete dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the side of her head. “What happened here?” he asked.
“Got clobbered.”
“I’ll say.”
“Thought he’d shot me…guess not.”
Pete stepped out of the way, and Jeff moved in with a gray gob of Neosporin on his fingertip.
Sherry winced as he spread the salve on her wound.
“Take it easy,” Pete warned him.
“It’s okay,” Sherry said.
Crouching in front of her, Pete dampened another cotton ball and stretched his arm toward her face.
“I’ll stand up,” she said. “Make it easier.”
“Probably a good idea,” Pete said, backing off.
Sherry clutched the arms of the chair. She pushed herself up slowly, wincing and shaking, then let go of the chair and hobbled forward like an old woman. After stopping, she straightened herself up. “Easier said than done,” she said.
“You all right?” Pete asked.
“Fine. Ready when you are.”
“I’m all set,” Jeff said. He stood nearby with a foil pack of Neosporin in his hands.
That’s not fair, Pete thought. “Hey Jeff,” he said, “why don’t we both do the hydrogen peroxide?”
“Why don’t you take care of that and I’ll follow along after you with the goop? Like an assembly line.”
Bastard.
We can’t argue about this, he thought. Sherry’ll figure out why I want to smear the stuff on her.
“It’s a two-step process,” he said.
“You do the first step, I’ll do the second.”
Shit!
On the other hand, Pete told himself, this way I’m sure to work on all the good places.
“Okay,” he said. “No problem.”
Pete stepped up to Sherry and began to dab her facial wounds with cotton balls soaked in hydrogen peroxide. Each time he finished an area, Jeff moved in with a glob of Neosporin on his fingertip.
From her face, Pete worked his way downward, slowly circling her, Jeff coming along in his wake.
Touching her with his finger.
Pete tried not to resent it.
Jeff doesn’t even live here. If he hadn’t barged in this morning, I could’ve had her all to myself.
Yeah, right. Only thing is, he’s the one who found her. If he hadn’t come along—and started screwing around with my book—I never would’ve known she was back there. She might’ve stayed out on the hillside and died.
Pete suddenly found himself crouching slightly, facing Sherry’s left breast. In addition to the bruises, it had numerous raw, red scratches.
“What about…uh, here?” Pete asked.
She looked down. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
Chuckling, Jeff said, “We sure don’t want that to get infected.”
Pete scowled at him.
“Want me to do it?” Jeff asked.
Not answering, Pete poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a fresh ball of cotton. He dabbed at the scratches on the top and sides of the breast. Where the clear liquid touched the wounds, it fizzed. Some of it trickled down her breast and dripped off. Pete swabbed the nipple, feeling its stiffness through the wet gob of cotton.
Crouching lower, he looked at the curving slash below her breast. Though it wasn’t bleeding, it looked deeper than her other wounds. “The guy use a razor on you?” he asked.
“Knife.”
Jeff crouched beside him and looked at the wound. He muttered, “Man.”
“It isn’t very deep, though,” Pete pointed out.
“He just wanted to…get my attention.”
“Fucking bastard,” Jeff muttered.
Pete gently drew a cotton ball along the length of the slit. Then he moved sideways and began to work on Sherry’s other breast. “Who did this to you?” he asked.
“A guy.”
“We figured that,” Jeff said.
“Someone you know?” Pete asked.
“Sort of.”
As he patted her scratches, his eyes strayed over to Jeff. Jeff was stroking her nipple with a fingertip, smearing it with the greasy salve.
Man!
“I’d sure like to get my hands on him,” Jeff said.
“You and me both,” Pete said.
Sherry said, “Me, too.”
“We’ll rip him a new one,” Jeff said.
Pete worked his way downward, pouring hydrogen peroxide, patting her wounds, littering the concrete around his feet with used cotton balls as he crouched lower, following the scratches and scrapes and gouges down her body.
“Do you know the guy’s name?” Jeff asked.
Pete stared between her legs. She had a few raw places.
Should I ask permission?
You know what the answer’ll be, he told himself. Just do it.
He poured the fluid onto a fresh ball of cotton, then reached out and gently patted the wound. Sherry flinched.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ve got cuts or something.”
“He…bit me.”
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
Pete moaned.
Jeff muttered, “Oh, man.”
“Go ahead,” Sherry said.
Pete glided the dripping wad along the soft, fleshy edges, thinking, Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe she’s letting me.”
Done, he began swabbing the wounds on her right thigh.
Jeff moved in with the salve on his fingertip.
Pete watched.
Sherry squirmed a little, then said, “I can’t…can’t remember his name.”
“Whoever he is, I wanta kill him.”
Bending over slightly, Sherry reached down and rubbed the top of Jeff’s head. “Thanks,” she said. “But that’s…my job.”
Chapter Forty-two
Toby stood under the shower just long enough to rinse off the blood. Then he shut off the water and climbed out of the tub. He didn’t bother with a towel. Water running down his body, he stepped over to the counter. He frowned at the bloody power drill, then at the box cutter.
The cutter was still fairly clean.
He snatched it off the counter and walked through the house. On his way past the den, he noticed Sid on the floor. There was a nasty puddle under his head.
What’m I gonna do about that?
“First things first,” he muttered.
In the living room, he went to the glass door and slid it open. He stepped outside.
Dawn was still stretched out face-down on the poolside lounge. Her arms, no longer against her sides, were folded underneath her head. As before, her face was turned to her left—toward Toby.
He figured her eyes must be shut.
If they’d been open, she would’ve yelled by now.
Cutter behind his back, he walked slowly toward Dawn.
Her right eye was definitely shut.
They’ve both gotta be shut or she’d be raising hell.
The top of her string bikini was still untied. The way her arms were raised, Toby could see her bare side all the way down to the lime green waistband of her thong. Her left breast, its side bare, seemed to be resting loosely on the limp pouch of her top.
He squatted down beside her for a better view.
Her smooth, tanned skin glistened with oil and sweat.
From the way her ribcage slowly expanded and contracted, Toby figured she must be asleep.
He reached down to her hip with the cutter, eased the tip of its razor-sharp blade underneath her waistband, and gently lifted. The strip of fabric parted.
Her side was now bare all the way down.
Dawn slept on.
Toby stood up, stepped around to the other side of the lounge, then crouched and severed the right side of her waistband.
He stood up. Holding the cutter in his teeth, he bent over her and gently drew the thong downward, easing it out of the crevice. She didn’t seem to notice. He let it fall into the space between her thighs.
Then he stepped back and took a deep, shaky breath.
Fantastic, he thought.
His heart was pounding quick and hard. His mouth was dry. His rigid penis ached.
Now what? he wondered.
He stepped around to her left side. Crouching, he clamped the cutter between his teeth.
Dawn still seemed to be sleeping.
He caught the dangling string of her bikini top and slowly, carefully, tied it to the aluminum tubing at the side of the lounger.
Then he took hold of the aluminum frame with both hands.
Ready…Set…
He lurched upward, jerking the lounger off the concrete, tumbling Dawn off the other side. She let out a cry of alarm. Her lime green top stayed with the lounger. The pad started to go with her, but Toby grabbed it. Dawn smacked the concrete and grunted.
Toby hurled the lounger and pad out of his way.
Dawn was sprawled on the concrete, naked, the rag of her ruined thong draping her right thigh, a look on her face as if she didn’t know what was going on but knew she didn’t like it. Blinking, she turned her face toward Toby. Her eyes suddenly grew wide.
Toby took the box cutter out of his teeth.
She stared at it.
“Hey,” she said. “Hey.”
“You’re my girl now,” Toby said. “For the next hour or so, anyhow.”
“SID!” she shouted.
Toby stomped her breath out, stopping the shout.
Then he sat on her belly.
Wheezing for air, she writhed and thrashed. Toby liked how the rough movements made her oily body rub against him. And he really liked how her breasts lurched and swung.
Chapter Forty-three
When they finished with Sherry, every exposed scratch and abrasion gleamed with a layer of Neosporin and her body was a patchwork of bandages.
“That it?” Sherry asked.
Pete and Jeff slowly circled her, looking her over.
“I think we got everything,” Pete said.
“And then some,” Jeff added.
“Thanks.” Sherry hobbled over to the chair, turned her back to it, grabbed its plastic arms and eased herself down. “Can somebody…run and get the bikini for me?”
Pete and Jeff looked at each other.
“You get it,” Jeff said.
“I got it last time.”
“Whoever brings it,” Sherry said, “gets to put it on me.”
Before Pete could speak a word, Jeff blurted out, “Me!”
Sherry laughed, then winced.
Jeff ran into the house.
Pete looked at Sherry. She smiled. “Wanta do me a favor?” she asked.
“Anything.”
“I’m hurting.”
Pete grimaced. “I’m sorry. I know you must be…in awful pain.”
“Can you get me something for it?”
“Aspirin? I thought of that earlier, but it’s a blood thinner.”
“I was thinking more like…”
“Tylenol?”
“Booze. Do your parents keep any around?”
“Sure. I’m not supposed to fool around with it, but…”
“I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”
“No, that’s all right. This is sort of an emergency.”
“Is for me,” she said.
“We’ve got just about everything. My dad believes in keeping a well-stocked bar. So what’ll it be?”
“Know how to make a Bloody Mary?”
“Sure. I’ve seen Dad do it.”
“I could sure use something like that.”
“Fine. Do you want to come in the house or stay here?”
“Here’s good.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
He smiled and nodded. As he backed away, he realized she would probably be wearing the bikini by the time he returned.
Might never see her like this again.
But he couldn’t just stand here and gape at her forever, so he turned away.
“Wait,” she said. “Pete?”
He stopped and looked back at her.
“Do you have a phone I can use?”
“Sure. I’ll bring it right out.”
“Thanks.”
Nodding and smiling, he again turned away. The glass door was still open. He stepped into the living room. As he picked up the handset of the cordless remote phone, Jeff came striding in, swinging the bikini by his side. He had a spring in his step. He seemed hugely cheerful. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Getting her the phone.”
Jeff halted. “Oh really? Whoops.” Leaning sideways, he peered out the door. Then he whispered, “Conference,” and waved for Pete to follow him.
They hurried into the hallway.
“What?” Pete asked.
“Who does she wanta call?”
“How should I know?”
“And you’re just gonna give her the phone?”
“She wants to make a call, not take it home with her.”
“Well shit, man. She’s probably gonna ask somebody to come and pick her up.”
“Maybe.”
“That happens, we lose her.”
“Yeah, so?”
“What do you mean, ‘yeah, so?’ You don’t want her leaving any more than I do.”
“She has every right to leave.”
“I know, I know.”
“What do you want to do, keep her prisoner?”
“I’d love to.” He leered. “Ooooo, yes.”
“Well, forget it.”
“I know, I know. What do you think I am?”
“A horny pervert.”
“Fuckin’-A right, and so are you. Man! Wouldn’t you just love to…”
“Knock it off, Jeff. Don’t even think about it.”
“How can I not think about it. I can’t think about anything else. Bet you can’t, either.”
“Yeah, well…”
“Oh, man, I’m achin’.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.”
“We can’t let her leave.”
“We don’t even know she wants to leave yet. Or who she wants to call. All I know is she wants to use the phone and I’m taking it to her.”
“You’re gonna blow it, man.”
“I’m gonna do whatever she asks me to do. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the boss.”
“Sure, fine. But right now, you know, she’s all ours. Your mom and dad won’t be home till tomorrow night. Nobody knows she’s here. There’s just the three of us.”
“Yeah, but…”
“We could at least keep her overnight.”
“Not if she wants to leave.”
“I don’t say we use force or anything, but if we can get her to stay somehow
…Wouldn’t it be great? Just imagine. You’d really have something to write about.”
“Let’s just see how it goes,” Pete said. “If she wants to stay here, fine. If not…” He shrugged. “It’s up to her.”
“Just remember this, man. When she does go, we’re never gonna see her again. It’ll be ‘thanks for the help’ and adios forever.”
“Maybe.”
“No maybe about it.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’ll care when it happens.”
“I don’t mean that,” Pete said. “I just mean we have to do whatever she wants, no matter what. We do everything we can for her. If she wants to leave, we help her leave. Even if we don’t ever see her again.”
A smile flickered across Jeff’s face.
“What?” Pete asked.
“By George, I do believe the boy’s in love.”
Blushing, Pete said, “Get real.”
“You are.”
“What, because I don’t want to take her prisoner and molest her?”
“Ha! Because you do wanta take her prisoner and molest her, but you won’t do it because you’re wildly, madly in love with her.”
“Maybe I won’t do it because it’d be a shitty way to treat someone.”
“Nah, that ain’t why.”
“And highly illegal.”
“Nope. You’re in love, man. Admit it.”
“Screw you.”
Jeff laughed.
“Let’s get out there. She’s gonna wonder what’s going on.” Not waiting for a response, Pete turned away and headed down the hallway. As he stepped into the living room, he glanced back at Jeff and said, “Keep your mouth shut about all this.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“They better be.”
He hurried to the door and stepped outside. Sherry was still seated in the lawn chair. He waved the phone, smiled and said, “Got it.”
“And I’ve got your duds,” Jeff announced, waving the bikini.
“Let me call first,” Sherry said.
“I got no problem with that,” Jeff said.
She almost smiled. “You’re sort of a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
“Moi?”
“He’s a pain in the butt,” Pete said, approaching with the phone. “Would you like me to dial for you?”
“I can probably…maybe you’d better. Yeah.”
Sherry told him the number. He pushed the on/off button. As the dial tone sounded in his ear, he thought about entering the wrong number.
Come Out Tonight Page 24