“Why am I tied up?” Sophia asked, snarling with unleashed vitriol.
For the first time she noticed Natasha, who had just been a mouth to her. She rose up from between her legs, where she had been lingering for her own enjoyment, to her full height, looking every bit a voodoo priestess. Natasha was bare-chested, exposing her magnificent erect breasts under multiple strands of colorful beads. Her oiled skin gleamed bronze in the moonlight. Her head was wrapped in Sophia’s scarf. Natasha held an index finger up to her lush vermilion lips. Her enormous oval eyes, jade green with flecks of yellow, silenced Sophia with their penetrating gaze. With an imperceptible nod, she directed Noah to mount Sophia.
“No. Leave me alone. This is too strange.” Sophia said.
“Sofe, you’re always so up for it.” Noah said, dutifully climbing on top of her.
“Not now you cretin. Untie me. Get me out of here.” Sophia was sobbing.
“Shut up.” Noah slapped her cheek. Without another word, he thrust into her. Despite her fear and lack of desire, she was still well-lubricated, which eased his initial entry. He slammed into her repeatedly, causing her to cry out in agony. She felt as if her arms were dislocating at her shoulders, her vagina was burning, and her bladder was releasing urine. Finally, he came, biting into her neck. He rolled off, sighing with satisfaction.
Sophia watched Natasha approach her with a burnished bowl in one hand and a small brush in the other. She began painting her breasts and stomach with a foul mixture of blood and urine. Ignoring Sophia’s protests, she worked methodically, covering her from neck to groin with the wild concoction. She stood back to view her handiwork and produced a fat cigar from the depths of her voluminous skirt. She lit the cigar easily, puffing away, eyeing Sophia, like a cat sizing up a mouse before tormenting her for the slow kill.
“She’s ready. Untie her,” she commanded.
“Yes, my sweet,” Noah said. He released Sophia’s wrists with a swift slash of his scimitar.
Sophia turned her head to squint at the small sword while she shook some life into her numb arms before rubbing her raw wrists warily.
“Sit up,” Natasha said.
Sophia, groaning with pain, sat up. “What do you want from me?” She looked from Natasha to Noah and back to Natasha.
“What do we want? You are a smart woman. What do you think we want?”
“Money?”
“Aah, Querida, you are so on the money.” Natasha chuckled. “We didn’t do all this just so I could get a taste of your fleshy papaya. Although, don’t get me wrong, I loved it. I asked the orishas, especially Yemaya, for help.”
Sophia looked at Noah. “You left that filthy doll?”
“Of course, Sofe.” Noah moved closer to Natasha, putting his arm around her muscular shoulders.
“Enough small talk,” Natasha snapped. “We want two hundred thousand dollars. We know all about you and your business. And we know your daughter is studying in Paris. Give us the money or we will hurt Lili. Who knows? Maybe we will kill her after I’ve had my way with her.”
“Are you going to Paris yourselves?” A skeptical Sophia blurted out.
“Shut up.” This time Natasha slapped her face. “We have networks everywhere. Cuba, Miami, Paris, Spain, Argentina, Brazil. Everywhere. Our splinter group is powerful. We see and hear everything. Do not be so foolish to doubt we will kill Lili.”
“My poor Lili. How did I get you into this?” Tears streamed down Sophia’s hot cheeks.
“Stop whining. How did you get into this? I’ll tell you how. Because you love pinga. Noah’s big pinga came in useful. Get up. Put on my skirt and shirt.” Natasha picked up a threadbare denim shirt and threw it at Sophia. She stepped out of her skirt, revealing an unruly bush between her powerful long legs, and tossed it at Sophia. “I’m taking your jumpsuit. I love it.”
Sophia watched her shimmy the elegant jumpsuit over her hips and put her arms into the suit arms, zipping it up with a flourish. It now caressed Natasha’s voluptuous breasts and derriere. She dressed in the shabby clothes, wincing with pain as she did so.
“Perfecto. Now you don’t look like such a fancy puta. You will go back to your hotel. Noah will call on you and tell you what to do. How to arrange for the money to come to us.”
“How do I know you won’t keep coming back for more?”
“You don’t, bitch,” Noah piped up. He dropped his arm from Natasha’s shoulders and approached Sophia with an upraised arm, looking over his shoulder at Natasha.
Natasha stopped him with that index finger to her red lips. “Leave her alone. It’s a fair question. We strike once like a scorpion. It’s the best way to stay free. Not too greedy. La gula can kill you. I’ve seen it many times.”
“But Tasha, sweetie, she’s being a bitch,” Noah whined.
“I don’t care about that. Just take care of business. Don’t be stupid. And put your toy sword away,” Natasha said. He bowed his head and kept silent, doing as she bid.
“Drop your toy sword to the ground now, mate,” boomed a familiar voice behind them. “I have a gun trained on you and your sweetie. A gun I won’t hesitate to use.”
Noah, startled, did as he was told.
“Move next to your sweetie. Sophia, back up towards me. I’m right behind you,” Jonathan Constable spoke the most welcome words she could want to hear.
Sophia backed into Jonathan’s drawn gun. She moved over and stood next to him.
“Sophia, darling, you smell like you pissed yourself.”
“Is this a good time to comment on how I smell?”
“No. Not really. Go over to those two little arseholes and handcuff them. Not together. Behind their backs. Here. I have two just for the occasion.”
Sophia took the cuffs and hurried over to the pair. She took pleasure in wrenching Natasha’s arms behind her back with unnecessary force before cuffing her.
“You thought her, the she-devil, the more dangerous of the two?” Jonathan asked, keeping his eyes and his gun, a mean-looking Glock, trained on the pair.
Wordlessly, Sophia proceeded to cuff Noah. When she finished, she kicked him in the balls somewhat ineptly, but there was connection enough because he screamed out in pain. “Take that, you motherfucker.”
I have a jeep around the corner. Let’s drop them off at the local constabulary for now and I’ll take you back.
Sophia allowed herself to collapse.
“Now, darling, you must get up. I’m not leaving you here and I’m not taking my gun off them, cuffs or no cuffs.”
Sophia dragged herself to her feet. Together, they marched the duo to the jeep.
“Can you drive, Sophia? I need all my attention for them, even cuffed.
“Yes. I think so. I haven’t driven in years, but yes I can.”
“What are you doing here Jonathan?”
“I told you I might show up.”
“I didn’t expect you, Sir Galahad.”
“Luckily I’m here. I came to tell you something about developments back home, but it seems I’m serving a dual purpose.”
“What developments? Is everyone okay? Ma? Ta?”
“They’re fine.”
“What’s going on?”
“All in good time, my lovely. Now get in that jeep and let’s drive these scoundrels to jail.”
Fifty
Jonathan got into the shower and helped Sophia wash off the muck, and the urine and blood, Natasha had painted on her. He held her from behind when she used a wash cloth to scrub her aching vagina. She cried out several times when the stinging shower hit skinned, sore, and grazed spots. She scrubbed her face, tender and swollen from the slaps. Her tears mingled with the shower spray.
“You’re fine, darling. The shock is wearing off. I’m here. Let’s turn off the water and dry off now.”
Sophia was happy to let him take charge and dry her off. She winced a few times. He wrapped a toweling robe around her and an oversized towel around himself before leading her to the bed.
“Now we’ll lie down. You first whilst I fetch some brandy. I’m going to make some coffee for the brandy. In the meantime, here’s a tranquilizer.” He propped her up with several pillows and handed her a glass of water with the pill.
Sophia lay still and wordless.
“Aah, smell that cuppa. We love our tea, but there’s nothing like a coffee at times like these.”
Sophia smiled faintly when she took the steaming brew, laced liberally with brandy. She just held it helplessly, gripping the mug tightly with both hands, until Jonathan gently pried it out of her fingers and placed it on the night table. “I’ll help you drink it when it cools down a bit.” He reached down to peck her on the cheek, before sitting down on the bed beside her, still wearing only a bath towel.
She sat up slowly and embraced him as best she could from an awkward angle. “I’m so grateful for you. Innocent Lili. I got her into a big mess. Poor girl. I’m a horrible mother.”
“Cease and desist. Those two did a number on you. Don’t beat up on yourself.”
“I’m such a sucker for a good looking man. What an ass.”
“You have the best looker now. You don’t need to look any further.” He caressed her limp damp hair. He picked up the coffee and held it to her lips. She sipped. He held it up to her lips again. “Take a healthy gulp. It’s cooled off.”
She complied and fell back onto the pillows.
“Rest up and you’ll tell me all about it tomorrow.”
“How did you find me?”
“You weren’t at the hotel. I started walking on the beach, thinking we might run into each other. Luckily, I stumbled upon the scene, luv.”
“Luckily,” she echoed.
“And luckily I took my gun out of my bag and loaded it in the bathroom. It was habit. Instinct. Never thought I’d need a gun.”
“You can travel on a plane with a gun?” Sophia’s eyes were drooping, but her mind was still working.
“Sure thing. You have to store it in baggage, unloaded.”
“Sleep, love. I’m going to get dressed and putter around. I’ll be here.”
She was snoring lightly by the time he stood up.
When she awoke at three in the morning, she was reassured to find Jonathan fast asleep next to her. She reached out and stroked his hair until he stirred. She prevented herself from crying out when, still asleep, he cocooned her in his arms, setting off alarm bells of pain in various parts of her body. That’s when she realized how sore and stiff she had become. Her nerve endings cried out for a brandy. Her brain demanded oblivion. She didn’t want the flashbacks from yesterday’s abhorrent adventure haunting her.
“What’s up darling? You’re squirming?” Jonathan asked, sitting up and yawning.
“I need to forget today, yesterday, whenever it was. I keep experiencing it, over and over again. And I’m stiff and sore.”
“Right. You need more medicine and another brandy. I’m going to ask you to get it.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not mucking about. The best way for you to overcome the stiffness is to move about a bit.”
She groaned.
“Come on. I’ll help you.” He came over to her side of the bed, pulling her up by taking both her hands in his and exerting pressure.
She rose reluctantly and moved to the drinks cabinet, pouring herself a stiff one while Jonathan fetched a Xanax.
“Wait, on second thought, you better not take another Xanax. Might be risky. The brandy should be enough.”
She didn’t protest, knowing all too well the dangers of mixing alcohol with sedative-hypnotics, both from her training and, more vividly, from some of her patients’ ill-advised drug and alcohol escapades.
“Do you want to sit outside and contemplate the lovely sea while you have your brandy?”
Sophia shrugged. “The ocean doesn’t look so lovely to me after what happened. In fact, this whole place stinks. Luxury accommodations, my ass. Death and destruction’s squalor lurks underneath the splendor.” She let him lead her out to a chaise lounge where she sipped her brandy and surveyed the moon-silvered, placid water blindly, oblivious to its charm. She was simmering, like water on slow boil in a cauldron, bubbles of rage, guilt, and bitterness, roiling on the surface.
Jonathan rose from his lounge chair.
“Where are you going?”
“Just joining you in a brandy. Back in a trice.” He squeezed her shoulder.
The gesture reminded her to ravage her ear.
He returned with his drink and gently pulled her hand away from her left ear before sitting down.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Maybe.” She put her snifter down on the floor, jabs of pain accompanying the movement.
“Whatever helps.”
“Don’t you see? I don’t know what will help? I’m confused. I’m traumatized. I’m bleeding emotionally, but I also feel numb. I’m on the verge of tears and then I think I’ll never cry again.”
“That’s the shock. Do you want to see a doctor?”
“No.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to see anyone. I want to hide out forever.” She wrapped her arms around herself.
He came over to her, sweeping his thick hair back from his forehead, and kissed the top of her head before he stooped down, retrieved her drink, and handed it to her. “Drink up. It’s good for you.”
She reached up with her other hand to take his hand and squeeze. “I don’t mean to sound like an ingrate. I am eternally grateful to you for rescuing me.”
He squatted down next to her. “Let’s both drink up and get some more sleep. We’ll see how you feel in the morning. I suggest we leave tomorrow.” He rose up to his full height, creaking and groaning on the way up. “Pretty bad for a thirty-three year old. I am out of shape.” He grinned down at her.
“You are just what I need. You always know what to say.” Sophia gazed up at him, admiring his height, his solicitousness, and his good judgment. “You were a gift from the gods that day you strolled along the bay and into my arms.”
“Sweetheart, let’s get you back to bed. I predict you’ll sleep like a top.”
Sophia slurped down the dregs of her drink and reached out her arms for help up out of the chaise. She stumbled a little on her way to bed.
“Make sure you lock up tight,” she admonished.
“Never fear.”
She was already halfway to slumber land, when Jonathan’s presence in the bed, roused her. “What did you see there in the clearing? I mean how much did you see?” she asked.
“Now, now. Let’s not get into that and stir you up again. Tomorrow. Let the brandy do its work.” He turned towards her backside and gently spooned her.
“That feels good,” she murmured, nestling in closer, ignoring the pain. She fell asleep almost immediately.
It was still dark outside when Sophia woke, terrified, feeling a threatening presence in the room while she felt immobilized. It was Noah, coming to get her and rip her to pieces. She could hear him breathing. She could smell him. She saw a flash of dove-gray hair, eyes glinting in the menacing dark, his odd sword flashing, coming closer and closer. She couldn’t move or cry out. She was doomed. Her heart was thumping in her chest and sending throbbing waves of terror throughout her paralyzed body. She sat up, ripping through the invisible layers holding her down. She screamed, using superhuman strength to break out of the impotence. She screamed and screamed. A hand closed over her mouth. She hadn’t succeeded. This was the end.
“Sophia? What’s happening? You’re safe. You’re safe,” Jonathan kept repeating the phrase while chafing her hands to help calm her.
“Noah was here. I saw him. He was coming to get me. To kill me. He had his knife. I was frozen.” She was crying hysterically.
Jonathan got out of bed to get her another brandy.
She drank half the drink down, sighed, and wiped the back of her hand across her
lips. “That was terrifying.”
“You were beside yourself.”
She propped up her pillows. The pain when she moved was a reminder of the recent trauma. She settled back with her drink, breathing deeply, gulping lungfuls of air.
Jonathan brought her a lavender-infused wash cloth.
“Aah. Jonathan you are a saint. A darling saint. You know just what I need.” She placed the wash cloth on her forehead and inhaled the soothing aroma.
He bowed like a courtier.
“I know what it was.” She sipped slowly. Jonathan cocked his head, curious to hear her explanation.
“A hypnogogic hallucination and sleep paralysis.”
“Sleep paralysis, I get. I can figure it out. But a hypno… what hallucination?”
“Hypnogogic. Right when you’re dropping off to sleep. Bang. A hallucination and for a bonus I got the paralysis so I could be thoroughly terrified. Incapacitated.”
“Phew. I was flummoxed when you started screaming lustily and woke me up in an instant.”
“It was probably the drugs and alcohol combo plus my real life horrifying experience. I’m glad I didn’t take another Xanax. There are also hypnopompic hallucinations. Just as you’re waking up.” She was in her element now. Discoursing, lecturing, using her mind and escaping the emotions. She felt in control. Like a therapist or a courtesan. Control and distance. The upper hand.
“Uncanny. I’m glad you calmed down. You’re so clever.”
She beamed. “You’re so good for me.”
“I know.”
“It’s going to be tough breaking up with Maria, or whatever it is I’m doing.”
“Enough. You need your sleep.” He pulled her down and spooned her again. No more hypno… hallucinations, you hear me?”
“Yes, master.”
She stirred when he was already breathing deeply and broke out of his cuddle, turning around to face him. “Why did you come here? What happened back home?” Her brow crinkled with concern.
There was no answer from the inert Jonathan, slumbering serenely.
Fifty One
Time's Harlot: The Perils of Attraction, Seduction, and Desire Page 22