by Sandy Kline
Chapter Fourteen
Medical Attention
After we get to Jake’s house I excuse myself and head for the bathroom to ‘freshen’ up a bit. I’ve never been one for sleazy lingerie but the last time I was at the Stones Town Galleria Mall I wandered into Hollywood Secrets or some such place and I happened on a nurse’s outfit that I just couldn’t resist. Never thought I’d have the occasion to use it but tonight seems the perfect time. It’s basically a white nurses smock or whatever the call it, that barely goes down past my butt cheeks. It’s a cute white outfit with a red cross over the left breast and a bright red thong completes the ensemble. I slip into it, grab Jamarcus’ very real medical bag and go into the living room where I’d deposited my patient. He’s sprawled out on the couch in a pair of boxers; clean ones by the looks. I guess he has other thoughts on his mind as well and not just his medical care.
I sashay into the living room and ask in my sexiest voice. “Did somebody call for a nurse?”
“Yeah that real fat guy next door’s been hollering for one for two days now. Maybe you should go see him first.”
“Very funny Mister. Just for that I might do it. Then maybe…just maybe if I have any more strength left I’ll tend to your very minor needs.”
“You get your ass over here woman and I’ll show you a very major need.”
“Nah…I’ve heard it’s not that impressive.”
“Really? I’ve heard you could drive a truck in yours and still have a passing lane on either side…Oh that was gross. Scratch that. Now get your sexy ass over here so I can drive my truck in.”
“Wow…you must really have a hard time walking.”
“Why’s that?”
“To look at this…” I say, lifting up my smock. “And to make jokes like that takes some enormous balls…”
“Well don’t make me wobble after you then. I’d never catch you.”
As I walk up to him I begin to unbutton my smock. I can already see the effects of the uniform on my patient. I stop in front of him as my last button comes undone. I shrug out of my costume letting it fall to the floor. His eyes pop as my tits pop. I look into his lap and lick my lips with purpose.
“Yes ma’am.” He says and pulls his boxers down around his ankles before kicking them off.
“Gee Mister,” I begin. “I’m not feeling so well myself. Maybe you should take my temperature with that.” I point to his massive thermometer.
“I’m sorry sweetie, but this is a rectal thermometer.”
“Nice try buddy!” I have to laugh at his ingenuity. “But maybe you didn’t notice the one way sign on my ass the last time you were back there.”
“Yeah my eyesight’s not that good. I’m mostly go by feel.”
“You know babe, you appear to be the one in need of medical services, not me. I’m afraid I’ll have to take your temperature.” I say. I hold up my middle finger. “So sorry Sir, but I only have a rectal thermometer myself so roll over and take a deep breath. I promise it won’t hurt; much.”
“Oh no, I do happen to have a ‘do not enter’ sign clearly posted so put away that torture device and hop on.”
Our lovemaking continues to be a lighthearted affair interspersed with bad jokes and lots of laughs right up until we were so wildly turned on that speech seems to fail us. Given the beating that Jake took only hours ago I make sure he doesn’t have to work too hard for it. In the end we’re both, not only laughed out, but fucked out as well and before I know it I’m fast asleep.
When I finally do wake up it’s nearly three in the morning. I sneak out of bed and get dressed. I call a cab and wait a half hour before I see a taxi pulls up. I step out and soon I’m entering the hotel praying that Jamarcus didn’t feel it was his duty to stay awake to watch my son sleeping. I open the door and almost immediately Jamarcus is joining me in the kitchen.
“Tell me you were sleeping and not staying awake while my son slept.”
“Uh…I slept, sure.”
He’s lying, I know it but I’m not going to hurt his pride by saying anything. I pull out my purse to pay him but he stops me.
“I’m not going to let you pay me for putting my fighter back together for me.” He says.
“Trust me; my methods for putting your fighter back together are not the ones you’ve been using. At least I hope not.”
That got a laugh from him and while he’s cracking up I stuff three twenties into his coat pocket. He probably saw that too but he doesn’t say anything. After he goes I lie down on the couch to get some sleep before Diego wakes up.
Chapter Fifteen
Thanks for the Memories
Despite my many misgivings about Dr. Frazer and her hypnotherapy, I decide to go back for one more session. While I understand that many of what I think I remember may just be manufactured by my stressed out brain, I think there is a grain of truth to some of what I am remembering under hypnosis. I instruct her to not be so quick to come to my aid and bring me back out.
“I’m perfectly safe right?” I ask. “What harm could come by letting me just ride the memories out and follow them wherever they take me? What’s the risk here?”
“Risk? The risk is that you get totally traumatized by a memory of something that never even happened. What if you remembered accidently killing a kid while you were fighting with your ex for example? That memory could be strong enough to torture you for who knows how long. It could be life changing.”
“I just want to make sure that the kidnapping memory is the real one and not the one where I shoot my ex-husband who by the way is still missing.”
“What if the shooting memory is the real one? What if both are, or even none of them are real?”
“What do you think?” I ask her for the tenth time this week.
“I believe it’s far more likely that the kidnapping memory is true or at least partially true just because of what your son said about you being gone and reappearing with wounds on your wrists. Although now that you say your ex is missing…well, I wonder about what happened to him.”
“And that’s why I need to try and remember something.”
“Okay, let’s give it a go.”
It takes me a little longer to go under than the last few times. Maybe because I’m more worried about what I may find. But when I finally do, it’s a shocker!
It’s dark. I feel around for the light switch. When I find it I give it a gentle pull and with a blinding flash the light comes on. Sitting beneath a single bulb is Robert. Both hands are actually handcuffed to the wooden chair he is sitting on. His feet are duct taped to the front legs of the chair. How, I wonder, was I able to get him in this position by myself? He glares at me. I’ve seen him pretty damn pissed off. Like the night he killed my son. But that was fuelled by steroids and I think the drugs helped mask part of his feelings. But this look he’s giving me now…pure unadulterated hatred! It’s terrifying because I know if he gets free…I’m gonna be in for some pain and lots of it. He’s so scary I don’t even want to be in the same room with him. It’s almost like I think he’ll suddenly be strong enough to rip apart his cuffs which I know is not possible.
“What d-did you do with…Boomer?” He croaks.
“What do you mean? I didn’t do anything to him.”
“Liar! He spits out the word like venom.
Spittle flies from his mouth and a small amount lands on my hand. I quickly wipe it off on my pant legs. It’s almost like it’s some kind of corrosive acid and if I don’t get it off in time it will burn right through my skin.
“I didn’t do anything to him. I don’t know where he is.”
He opens his mouth to say something then stops and looks intently at me. “You’re afraid of me.” He says. “You got me hogtied to a chair in a shed and you’re still terrified of me. Now how fuckin’ pathetic is that bitch?”
“No I’m not. You can’t do a damn thing to me and we both know that.”
“If you don’t let me go I’m gonna come after yo
u in your dreams and I’m gonna rape the shit out of you, then I’m gonna skull fuck you until you choke on my balls and the-”
I hadn’t planned on striking him. I wasn’t going to do a thing actually, but when he started on the rape stuff I just lost it. I rub my aching wrist. I don’t think I’ve ever punched anyone and if I did, never this hard. It almost feels like I broke something on his jaw. Stupid place to hit him too. Should have decked him in the nose but I didn’t think I just swung.
He laughs and spits out a small amount of saliva and blood. “Man…your kid even hits harder than you do. Fucker used to try to hit me when I beat his ass with my-”
I scream with rage. I don’t know if he purposefully was trying to make me lose it but it worked. I rip my backpack off my back and rip open the zipper.
“I used to hold my hand over his nose and mouth just to see the pecker squirm…”
My hand touches the cool steel of my .38 revolver. I can’t see King any longer. A veil of blood has completely blinded me to the point where all I can see is red. I don’t know if the gun is even loaded but I cock the hammer back, grip with both hands, and just start shooting. I keep pulling the trigger over and over again until at some point I become aware of a metallic clicking noise. I drop the pistol at my feet as the bloody veil is lifted from my eyes. Randy is slumped over in the chair motionless. Twin red splotches bloom beneath his white tee shirt. I can’t believe I killed him. He deserved it of course, but I can’t believe I did it. Maybe that was his purpose in making me mad. Maybe he wanted me to do it. Maybe the guilt of what he did to Ethan has been eating him alive. I certainly hope so. The shed door behind me creaks open. I whip around in surprise. Jake is standing there in the doorway.
“I wondered how long you’d be able to hold out.” He says.
“He…he told me he hurt my son…Like he used to hit him and suffocate him and stuff.”
“I see.” Jake replies.
“He told me and I…I couldn’t take it anymore so I had to shoot him.”
“My gun?”
I pick it up and hand it to him. He takes a cloth and wipes it down to remove my finger prints before putting it into his backpack. I turn back around and look at my dead ex-husband.
“You got what you deserved shithead!”
“Who did? Christine, who got what they deserved?” Asks a female voice.
“What?”
“Christine come back.” Dr. Frazer says.
Slowly I open my eyes and I’m back sitting in the reclining chair in my doctor’s office. I look around the room, almost expecting to see some evidence of what I just went through but it’s just a doctor’s office not a shed.
“Would you like to tell me what you saw?” She asks.
“I guess I did kill him.”
“Your ex-husband?” She asks.
“Yeah…and…Oh my god. Jake was there!”
“What?” Now it’s her turn to be alarmed. “What do you mean he was there?”
“When I shot Randy. Jake was the one who helped me capture him and tie him up in the shed. I wondered how I could have done that by myself. Jake helped me, and then he just shows up right after I kill him. And get this. He says the gun I used is his. He couldn’t even bother to tell me either. He knew I had some holes in my memory and he couldn’t even tell me he was there all along helping me.”
“I don’t know Christine. I thought the part where you kill your ex was the false memory. The real one is where your ex kidnaps you, remember? Your son even corroborates the story.”
“But maybe I held him in the shed from Friday to Monday and that’s why I was gone. I was never a captive, Randy was.”
“I think you’re forgetting one very important fact Christine.”
“What’s that?”
“You came home with bandages on your wrists. Your wrists were injured from handcuffs and your ankles from duct tape probably. You’re starting to mix the two memories together. This has to be the last time you go under. Your true memories are starting to get lost in the false ones and confusion will reign. It’s already happening. It’s time to process what we know really happened in a traditional therapy session.”
“But I’m not finished.” I plead. “One more time and then I won’t ask again.”
“No. This is getting to confusing and dangerous. This kind of thing could put you over the edge Christine and it’s my job to keep that from happening.”
“But I really need to make sure. I’m going to confront Jake today and I have to get as many details as I can just in case he tries to deny it. I bet he even keeps the gun at his place.”
“No Christine. In my professional opinion you did not kill Randy and you have been having significant false memories. I’ve been doing this a lot of years and I know when someone has false memories.”
“And I know me and I know what is real and what’s not.”
“Maybe you don’t remember our talk the first day and how I said that the mind cannot distinguish between real memories and false memories. They both carry the same weight to your brain. They both feel equally real. That’s why you need some corroborating evidence to establish is one memory is true or not and you have that. Your son proved that the real memory is the one where you were kidnapped and held for three days.”
“No!”
“And why not?” Dr. Frazer asks.
“Because…b-because…” I can’t finish.
The tears start to flow and the pain is too great. My body is wracked with huge sobs. The ache is so deep, so all consuming that I can’t escape it. I shake and cry and at times I feel like vomiting. How can one endure pain like this and live?
“Christine…why not?” Dr. Frazer asks softly.
“B-because…t-the man who killed my s-son…raped me. If it’s true he kidnapped me…t-then it’s t-true he r-raped me as well.”
One more time the tears come in great heaving tidal waves of anguish. I wish I had killed Randy. What if I’m pregnant? Can I live with the daily reminder of what happened to me? When Diego was conceived it wasn’t rape. In fact it was probably the last time we actually had enjoyable sex. I was about 18 weeks pregnant and not showing yet the night he and Boomer and some other guy ransacked my house in that drug fuelled rage.
“So I guess I don’t have to confront Jake then?”
“No.” Dr. Frazer replies. “Unless you want to know if he saw the ruckus in the bar the night you were kidnapped. He may have useful information if he was on that night.”
“If I am going to keep seeing him then I have to know his involvement if any. How did I get free from my captors? Did Jake rescue me?”
“Maybe he did rescue you.” Dr. Frazer replies. Maybe he takes your silence for the desire to just forget it and move on. He may think he’s respecting your boundaries by not saying anything.”
“There’s something else that’s bothering me though.”
“What’s that?”
“If my ex-husband and, or Boomer were in on this kidnapping of me why the hell would he have agreed to fight for the same group that they fight for?”
“Maybe his way of getting revenge on those who hurt the woman he cares for is to kick their butts in a legal fight.”
“Why wouldn’t he give me the chance to decide? Maybe I want them to go to jail and not continue fighting. Why not give me that choice?”
“Christine, if he believes you remember what happened to you and have not gone to the police maybe he thinks you don’t want to. Maybe he wishes you would go to the police and testify so they can get what’s their due and not be free to fight. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with it and with you for not going to the police. He finally gets to destroy the man or men he hates. It probably drives him crazy that the men who hurt the woman he is with get to have a life and not be in jail. Here Jake is an honest struggling fighter and the men who harmed you are at the top of their careers. It’s like they’re spitting in his face every day that they remain free men.”
“Th
at actually makes sense.” I finally concede. “I never even considered that.”
“Either way…don’t you think you should talk to him about what happened? He probably wonders how you’re doing. Maybe he doesn’t know you were raped and maybe he does but either way it was a traumatic experience that needs to be talked through.”
“Your right of course, and I’ll talk to him. But I think I’ll wait till after his fight. I don’t want anything distracting him.”
“Maybe talking to him will take a load off his shoulders…”
“I don’t know. Either way, I’m going to take a few days to mull this over. He’s had to wait this long. A few more days won’t make a difference right?”
“No…you’re probably right about that. If you need to talk before then or after please call any time. I do traditional therapy too so we can just talk. No more hypnotherapy, just good old fashioned talk therapy.”
“Alright Doctor.” I say as I get up to leave. “I’ll at least give you an update after we talk even if I don’t come back for more therapy so however this plays out…thanks for the memories.”
Chapter Sixteen
Heart to Heart
The moment I get back to the hotel I call Jake. I don’t know if he’ll answer or not. He’ll be in the zone now and getting ready for the comeback fight of his life. But I need to talk to him first and clear up some things so I know where things stand between us going forward. What I have to say may also increase his already raging desire to stomp Boomer into the mat. When Jake doesn’t answer the first three calls and the two text messages I send I decide to just back off for a bit. I’ll try again at one in the afternoon. Maybe by then he’ll be taking a lunch break and he may actually check his messages and call me back. Turns out I’m right. At one fifteen he finally calls me back.
“Is this going to be a regular thing?” He asks me the moment we connect.