by Tony C. Skye
“Um - Caroline, I really think you should reconsider…”
Smack!
The sting spreads itself inside of Julianna’s jeans as Caroline’s hand makes firm contact. Electricity rushes its familiar fire up her spine. Julianna’s eyes swim with the designs of black ink. Caroline turns to walk away.
“You hit like a wussy, Caroline,” Julianna says angrily, “I thought you wanted to pay me back? Stop being such a child and just do it. It isn’t that hard. Grow up and hit like a woman.”
Caroline spins around, “What did you say to me?”
“Um,” Jennifer holds up her right hand, “Caroline?”
“I called you a wussy,” Julianna reiterates her last statement. Julianna’s green eyes flash over with total blackness before the lazy swimming of black ink dances its way across her exposed emerald green eyes.
“Try bringing honor to our family name and act like you’re part of the bloodline you weak wussy.”
Caroline’s brows narrow as she steps forward and swings again. Jennifer lowers her hand and rests it upon her head as the loud smack fills the room.
“Ha-ha-ha!”, Julianna laughs, “I thought you could actually pay me back! Ha-ha-ha! What a joke!”
Smack!
“You bitch!”, Caroline snaps as she hits Julianna two more times.
“What are you doing?!”, Caroline yells out as Jennifer grabs hold of her and pulls.
“She deserves it!”, Caroline defends her violent actions.
“You’re spelled, Caroline,” Jennifer says within the girl’s right ear, “Stop it.”
“Let me go!”, Caroline yells while trying to tear herself from Jennifer’s grip. The taller girl, however, easily turns and pushes Caroline towards the couch. Caroline spins around and begins to charge, but stops whenever Jennifer makes it apparent that she will attack back.
“You did it, Caroline,” Jennifer speaks with her hands help up in a defensive position; “Think about it. You hit her five times – five times, Caroline.”
Caroline’s head retreats as she looks at Julianna. Her cousin holds the bar stool with sweat beading on her face. Jennifer’s mathematical claim begins to compute within her mind. Caroline shakes her head against the strange fogginess swimming in her mind. She looks back at Jennifer. The tall girl has her back to Julianna. Julianna laughs; albeit, it sounds as though she is attempting to quite herself with each passing moment. She lets out a quite moan.
“Oh gawd,” Caroline’s eyes widen, “What have I done?”
“It’s not your fault,” Julianna speaks breathlessly against her desire.
Caroline continues staring at Jennifer. The tall girl stares back with the action as though there is something nasty in her mouth. Caroline’s mouth drops open. Her nose crinkles as she covers her mouth. She feels her belly contract.
“You know where the bathroom’s at,” Jennifer says her words quickly while watching Caroline.
The smaller cheerleader gags as she rushes out of the room.
Jennifer turns and looks at Julianna. She can see Julianna tremoring as she lets out a muffled moan through her hand-covered mouth. Jennifer begins to feel a little nausea herself.
“You can let go of my bar stool anytime you like.”
Julianna nods. She lowers her hand from her mouth. Her arms shake as she forces herself to stand upright. She looks apologetically at Jennifer.
“I didn’t mean to…”
Jennifer holds up her left hand, “I know. I tried to warn her. I figured out you couldn’t control yourself whenever I really thought about you and Tamara. Nobody’s got a death wish like that unless they’re suicidal.”
Jennifer lowers her hand, “At first, I thought you was, but it didn’t take me long to figure out you wasn’t. Then when you called me a bitch like you did, I put it all together. You’re like a starving animal – ready to eat anything that your body perceives as food. I know it has nothing to do with sex.”
Jennifer shifts her eyes towards the empty doorway, “But she doesn’t know that.”
Julianna feels the tremors in her legs begin to lessen their frequency. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. As she opens them, Julianna releases the air within her lungs.
“I don’t mean to provoke. I try to stop myself, but it happens anyway. The more I fight it, the worse it gets.”
“You spell the person into desiring more,” Jennifer says, “I wanted to hit you and I knew what was going on. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be the object of your provocation. Damn girl, I almost got suckered last night, too.”
Julianna begins to say something, but Jennifer cuts her off, “And I sure don’t want to find out either. Let’s just keep things the way they are. I prefer not to know. Things are going really perfect for us right now.”
Julianna looks over towards the doorway as Caroline enters. The girl walks over, opens her purse, and pulls out a toothbrush.
“Ah,” Jennifer speaks while Caroline turns to go brush her teeth, “The other half to kissing cousins. How does it feel to commit incest?”
Caroline gags and covers her open mouth. She rushes out of the room once more.
“Heh.”
“She’s going to hate me.”
Jennifer looks at Julianna, “Nah, she doesn’t know how to hate. But I don’t think she’ll ever try this again.”
“I feel awful,” Julianna says, “How do I explain this to her?”
“I’ve got it,” Jennifer replies. She turns and heads for the bathroom within her bedroom. On her way into the hallway, she speaks over her left shoulder, “You might try harder to prevent this sorta thing – like talking to someone.”
Julianna doesn’t respond verbally as her heart flutters with the idea of Tamara’s name. As much as she would like to, Julianna can’t seem to push the fighter from her mind. Those long strong fingers – her natural brutality and ability to bring Julianna to the brink of death without permanently harming her. So brutal; yet, the most loving touch Julianna has ever known – a gentle touch which is needed after desire’s brutality has had its say.
* * *
Julianna is sitting on the couch when her cousin and Jennifer enter the room. She stands up and moves out of her cousin’s way while Caroline places her toothbrush into her purse. Caroline turns and makes eye contact with Julianna. She shifts her eyes over Julianna’s left shoulder to look at Jennifer before returning her gaze back onto the woman in front of her.
“Caroline, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for…”
“It’s alright,” Caroline speaks calmly, “Jen filled me in. But let’s please make sure that it never happens again. It is so gross.”
“And it never happened in the first place?”
“Never,” Caroline says while stepping forward and giving her cousin a very spacious hug.
“I think we need to get you a shock collar,” Jennifer speaks, “Every time we catch you spewing out your nasty joo-joo…ennnnnn!”
Caroline releases her cousin and shakes her head, “Don’t pay attention to her. She was dropped on her head as a child.”
Julianna grins. She looks at Jennifer.
“I think we could probably find one that has a harness and a chain,” Jennifer says, “If not, it shouldn’t be that hard to combine the two.”
Julianna points towards the hallway.
“What?”, Jennifer says with faked innocence, “I just want the best for my friends. I swear.”
Julianna lowers her hand, “Maybe later. Right now, you two are needed downstairs for the interviews.”
“Oh,” Caroline sounds surprised, “I completely forgot about that.”
“That’s because you found your hidden calling,” Jennifer says while looking at Caroline, “You should probably just ditch those jeans and get those other clothes back on. You know you want to.”
Caroline glares, “Those whore-rags will be burned first chance I get.”
“Heh,” Jennifer amuses, “I bet you fold them up and put t
hem in a suitcase.”
“Go to hell,” Caroline counters.
“Already sealed that deal.”
The room silences as Jennifer’s sarcasm becomes too real all of a sudden. A few seconds later, Julianna walks towards the doorway and turns right into the hallway. Caroline and Jennifer follow close behind within their unspoken silence.
* * *
Julianna approaches the double doors leading into Jennifer’s large dining room. On her right is Jennifer – to her left walks Caroline. Brian stands at attention as Julianna gets closer. When she arrives, he stares straight ahead while holding out two manila envelopes. Caroline and Jennifer both notice that he doesn’t give them the time a day – a complete one-hundred and eighty degree turn from their first encounter.
Julianna pushes her way through the double doors. Directly ahead of her, the two men who were wrestled to the ground are seated on the far side of one of the long tables. They both stand. Julianna notices the four men who took them down is positioned against the wall adjacent to the double doors. She walks up to the table without saying a word and slams the manila envelopes down upon its surface. She pulls out a chair and sits down. Jennifer takes a seat to Julianna’s right – Caroline to Julianna’s left. Julianna slides over the top manila envelope and opens it.
“You may be seated, gentlemen.”
Jennifer and Caroline look at each other as the two large guys seat themselves. The guys both stare towards the men wearing black suits against the far wall.
“Why did you both do that whenever we entered into the room?”, Julianna questions while scanning her finger over the first page of the file before her.
The two men hesitate.
“Answer me!”, Julianna slams her left palm against the table’s oak surface. Her action causes Caroline and Jennifer to flinch.
The man sitting to the left across the table from the three girls, speaks first. His eyes remain fixated upon the men behind them.
“I was raised to stand whenever a lady enters the room, ma’am. It is downright shameful for a man to seat himself before the ladies have chosen their seats.”
Julianna glances to her right, “And you?” She positions the other folder and opens it – scanning over the first page.
“I don’t know ma’am. It just feels right.”
Julianna arches her left brow slightly as she raises her head to look at the man having blue eyes. They are not nearly as deep with color as her grams. In fact, his blue eyes err more on the side of gray than blue. Yet according to his file, the Network has classed his eyes as blue.
“I believe you do know, Lieutenant Witherstone is it?”
The man stares at the wall of men behind Julianna as he answers, “I grew up in a broken home, ma’am. My father abused my mother. I swore I would never be like him. For me, I make a point to do the opposite of my father’s behavior.”
“I see,” Julianna answers while returning her eyes to the man’s file. She begins flipping through the paperwork. She stops on a random page, pretends to read something, and speaks, “Sons tend to be like their fathers, Lieutenant. It concerns me that you feel you need to work so hard in order to not be like your flesh and blood. You do have your father’s DNA.”
Julianna raises her head and stares into the man’s eyes. He stares ahead as though she isn’t present.
Lieutenant Witherstone speaks, “My DNA has nothing to do with the decisions I make. I choose to consider my father as the kind of person I never want to be. There is no work involved. My father is a measuring stick – nothing more.”
He pauses for a lingering moment before speaking again, “Ma’am.”
Jennifer swallows nervously. The room feels thick. Even though Julianna explained the scenario she now finds herself in, Jennifer hadn’t really considered how serious this would be.
Julianna ignores the man’s agitation as she looks back at the file, “You are twenty-four?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“And you prefer men to that of the company of women?”
“No ma’am.”
Julianna raises her head, looks at the man’s eyes, turns in her chair, and looks at the men standing at attention. She turns back and locks her watchful gaze upon Lieutenant Witherstone, “Then why are you unable to remove your eyes from them?”
The man shifts his gaze in the direction of his interrogator. He grins coldly before answering, “Training ma’am.” He nods, stops smiling, and refocuses his stare onto the men standing against the far wall.
Caroline shifts uncomfortably in her chair.
“Do you find something humorous, Lieutenant?”, Julianna questions calmly.
Lieutenant Witherstone remains fixated upon the wall as he answers, “You attack my sexual preference whenever you have my file in front of you.”
The man, slowly, turns his head, looks at Julianna, and speaks, “Ma’am.” Before he can return his gaze back to the wall, however, his interrogator responds.
“A file cannot tell me if there is a closet homo sitting in from of me,” Julianna speaks with a cold and calculated voice.
Jennifer feels her body temp rise with the growing pressure of the room. She wishes she would have brought in some water.
“No ma’am, I suppose it cannot,” the man replies with his daring stare.
Julianna points to his file, “Can this file tell me of your propensity towards the abuse of women who may – or may not – remind you of your weak mother?”
Lieutenant Witherstone takes a deep breath. He releases his increasing anger with the forthcoming wind from his mouth.
“No ma’am. Your file can tell you no such thing. But if the ma’am would allow me to speak freely?”
Julianna crosses her arms, “You may.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Lieutenant Witherstone answers with a nod.
“I can never prove my character or self-worth with paper or words,” the man continues, “I cannot make promises about my future because I do not know in which events I might find myself a party to. But I can and will say in confidence that I am not my father. I choose my own stars. I make my own decisions.”
Julianna remains silent as the Lieutenant continues, “To be mistreated and abused by someone who is your better physically, is not the meaning of weakness. It only means that you believe you may die if you try to fight back or leave. And if you have a family member – a child – in whom you wish to protect while in this situation; weakness, would imply that you should shift the focus of your abuse towards the child in order to lessen the blows against yourself. But my mother did no such thing.”
Lieutenant Witherspoon continues, “She took my beatings whenever my father gave me his familiar look of anger. She would provoke him into her next beating so I would be spared from the horror of her nightmare. No, my mother was never weak. She is the strongest person I have ever known, ma’am.”
Julianna notices Caroline within her peripheral vision. Her cousin is wiping something from her eye. Julianna really hopes it is an eyelash or something to that nature.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Julianna says with a nod. The man nods once and turns his attention back to the wall. Julianna closes his file and positions the remaining opened file in front of her.
“Sergeant Shepherd, you are only twenty-three?”
The man glances from the wall to the woman interrogator and back again.
“Do you need an interpreter, Sergeant?”, Julianna questions.
“No ma’am,” the man answers. He shifts his brown eyes back towards Julianna, “Yes ma’am. I mean…”
“What is wrong with you, Sergeant? Why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not ma’am,” the man answers, “I’m just confused.”
“Confused about what?”
The Sergeant shifts his stare back to the wall, “I am not sure where to look, ma’am.”
“Heh.”
Julianna’s left brow lifts slightly.
Professionalism, Jennifer.
&n
bsp; Sorry.
“I would prefer it if you were to look at me, Sergeant.”
The man looks at his interrogator and attempts a nervous smile.
“Let’s start this over, Sergeant,” Julianna speaks while looking over the man’s file,
“Are you twenty-three?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“It says here that you have graduated sniper training.”
“Yes ma’am – graduated top of my class.”
“Impressive,” Julianna replies while moving her gaze to the Sergeant, “From my understanding, they put you guys through a lot over there.”
“That is correct, ma’am.”
“I am curious, Sergeant. What are your aspirations?”
“To be the best, ma’am.”
“At what?”
“At everything, ma’am.”
“No one can be the best at everything, Sergeant. If they could, there would be no need for places like sniper training. Anyone could just think of something and be an expert at it – no specialization needed. Do you believe you could perform your own surgery if sent to the emergency room with a heart attack?”
“No ma’am. I am not a doctor.”
“Do you wish to become a doctor?”
“No ma’am.”
“Then what are your aspirations, Sergeant.”
“To be a great soldier, ma’am.”
“Oh, I see. You’re one of those guys,” Julianna replies. She shuts the man’s file and pushes it forward.
“Ma’am?”, the Sergeant nervously asks for clarification.
“You want to blow stuff up,” Julianna’s response sounds as though she is disinterested in anything further.
“No ma’am. Yes ma’am,” the man’s answer reflects his nerves, “I mean, no ma’am.”
“No-yes-no,” Julianna throws her arms outward, “Is that how your soldier monkey brain processes information?” She lowers her palms to the table.
The man remains silent.
“Has your broken processing center shut itself down, Sergeant?”