by Kailin Gow
“Things didn’t go so well?”
“The well-educated man from the very well to do family turned out to be a monster with hard and rough hands. I mean, an octopus with hands all over the place, grabbing and pinching and groping and… Don’t get me wrong. I’m no virgin or nothing, but there’s got to be a certain pace to these things, right?”
“Right.”
“And he just dove in, didn’t even give me a chance to take a breath. We didn’t even have dinner. Just a few quick glass of wine.” She looked down at the faded cotton dress. I just threw this old dress on to be decent as I came here. The dress I’d worn for my date with him is practically torn in two.”
I reached for her hand and patted it gently. Men… they could be so insensitive at times. “I’m sorry your evening went so awry. That really sucks.”
“You bet it sucks. I don’t get it. I mean, if you’d have seen him, you would never think… He’s tall and strong, but so soft spoken and gentle… so polite and gallant. I mean, he didn’t have to go all monster on me. I was willing to get down with him, just not…” She burst into tears and reached for another tissue.
“Did he…” I didn’t even want to say the word.
Sobbing, she nodded. “After only two glasses of wine, we started kissing… you know, making out. And, shit, but it was so good. His lips were so soft, but then it was like nothing was going fast enough for him. He yanked up my dress, tore off my panties and pinned me to the sofa then shove his fingers inside me. I told him to cool it down, to take it easy, but it just made him angrier, hungrier. He said I was just leading him on, but I wasn’t. Why was he in such a rush?”
Not knowing what to say, I simply shook my head. I was heartbroken for her.
“When he pulled his fingers out and saw that I was wet, he called me a slut and a tease and a whore. He grabbed me by my hair, pulled me off the sofa and practically dragged me to my bedroom.”
“Oh, Camille…”
“He pushed into me so hard… Damn it hurts. It hurts to the bone.”
“Where is he now?”
She looked at me with renewed fear.
“He’s sleeping it off. The minute he came and spilled his seed all over me, he fell over me like a dead weight and started snoring. I barely managed to crawl out from under him.”
“Camille, he’s still in your apartment?”
She nodded and looked down at her hands. “The idiot is cold drunk, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to go back in there. I don’t ever want to see him again.”
I patted her hand again and knew I had to do something. “Look, you stay here.” I reached for my phone and put it in my pocket. I wanted to take a few photos that could possibly serve as evidence should the situation go that far. “Take a minute to collect your thoughts, to catch your breath and when I get back, we’ll call the police. I don’t want you to put that off for too long. It’s important they get here fast enough.”
“Why bother, Laura? It’ll just be his word against mine. I mean, I willingly let him into my apartment. I willingly…”
“You didn’t willingly get raped.” I stood to leave.
“Laura,” she called out.
I turned and saw the pain and shame in her eyes.
“This type of thing never happens to me. I’m a good judge of people. I’m going to be a lawyer, for heaven’s sake. I know how to read people. I don’t understand how I could have so misread him. I don’t understand how I could have been so stupid and gullible.”
“Don’t talk like that, Camille. Men are too good at being deceptive for you to kick yourself over this. It’s not your fault the guy’s an asshole and good at hiding it.”
“Well, watch me next time,” she said through a sniffle. “I’ll have a background check on the guy before I let him set foot in my place.”
“I’m going to go make sure he doesn’t snake his way out of there before the police get here.”
“I don’t know how to thank you for all this. You’re too much.”
“Don’t worry about it. Take all the time you need to get yourself together.”
Nodding, she looked at me. Hope and even a touch of admiration shone in her eyes, and she suddenly seemed so small and fragile, I wanted to just hold her in my arms and comfort her.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” I could hardly remember the last time I was so upset, so raging mad. My fist clenched the doorknob and I yanked the door open and stomped to Camille’s door. The nerve of that man taking advantage of a young girl. I had half a mind to kick the damn guy’s balls off. He deserved no better.
As I reached out for the doorknob of her apartment, I suddenly felt nervous and unsure. A drunk man with a bad temper was inside and I questioned the wisdom of entering alone. Camille said he was out cold… cold drunk.
Determined to make sure he stayed put, I took a deep invigorating breath, opened the door and stepped inside. Camille’s apartment was dark and gloomy, and I tried to hold the door open with my foot as I reached out for the lamp in the corner. Just out of reach, I let go of the door and hurried to the lamp before it shut behind me.
I wasn’t fast enough. The door quietly closed behind me, and when I switched on the light, it didn’t work.
“Great,” I muttered in the dark apartment.
But it’s only when I heard a firm click, the distinctive click of a deadbolt being turned, that bile rose from the back of my throat and the hairs at the back of my neck prickled. My heart raced as I tried to find a way of negotiating with the large man with a rapist’s mind. Would I be his next victim?
Coming into Camille’s apartment alone could very well turn out to be my most regrettable move, but I was there and there was no turning back. I planted my feet firmly to the floor, ready to face him, despite the dark that cloaked Camille’s apartment.
Chapter 6
I took a step back while my hands searched for something… anything that could serve as a weapon, but there was nothing. I wasn’t about to be his second victim of the night. If he wanted to attack me, to try to rape me, I’d make it as hard as I could for him.
Drunk, he should fall with one well-placed punch in the face. All I had to do was manage to get that punch in.
His footsteps approached, small little steps that were surprisingly light for the large man Camille had described. I took another step back and realized there were two sets of steps. One had a light clip sound while the other a scraping sound.
Had Camille mentioned someone else and I hadn’t caught it? Another man?
Before I could find out, someone kicked the back of my knees from behind, and I fell forward. Hands pulled my hair back and roughly pushed my arms back. I heard a click and felt cold hard steel around my wrists. Was I just handcuffed? I flailed behind me, trying to elbow whoever was there. My elbow made contact with something soft. He grunted and groaned, a strangely delicate sound for a man
“Bitch. You’ll be sorry you elbowed me in the ribs, but I’m the one who have you now.”
I stopped dead in my tracks and listened more carefully to the voice… the whispered, husky voice of a woman.
“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Another familiar female voice, this one with a distinct British accent. “What do you want to do with her?” the Brit said.
The dark and sinister snicker that came from the first voice shook me. Whatever they had in mind, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. I pulled my wrists around, twisting my waist to reach the console and ran my hand along the smooth surface, hoping once again to find a blunt object that could serve as a weapon; a candle holder, a vase, a statuette… anything. But the only thing I found was a pad of paper… completely useless paper.
“I want to know the truth,” the first voice said. “Even if I have to beat it out of her.”
“Hey, you're going to have to leave me out of that part. I’m not getting involved in anything violent.”
“What do you want?” My shaky voice echoed in the
silence that followed and I hated the sound of fear that shook every word.
A glaring light suddenly flicked on, blinding me while allowing my captures to view just how terrified I was.
“What do you want?” the first voice mimicked with a cruel snicker.
“Look,” the Brit said. “I want nothing more to do with this. You never told me you’d take things this far.”
“Think twice before you back out. You're already in deep with P.T. Leaving this job unfinished could cost you quite a bit. You wouldn’t want to harm that career of yours, would you?”
P.T.? Oh, my God. Was Peter Townshend involved with this twisted game? Was he behind this whole crazy and deranged plot? I’d strangle him if he was.
“Look, I don’t know what you guys want with me, but I’m not looking for trouble. Just let me…”
“Hear that? She’s not looking for trouble. Dear, you found trouble the day you were born, and when you took away what was dearest to me, you found trouble big time, because I’m not about to let you wipe your hands off what you did.”
The voice sounded familiar, so familiar. Every word brought me back to a time, to a place, but it was vague and blurred. The only thing I knew for certain, the time and place it brought me back to wasn’t all that pleasant.
“You should have known better than to fuck with me, Laura.”
She knew me. This wasn’t just a random attack.
“Look, whatever I did, I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what I could have done to make you abduct me.”
A loud clap of laughter startled me. “Did you hear that? Abduct. Spoken like a true lawyer. We didn’t abduct you, sweetie. You walked in here of your own volition.”
Yes, I walked in on my own, but I came based on Camille’s story. A story. Was that all it was? A story to get me in here? To trap me?
And where was Camille now? Maybe she didn’t even live in this apartment or in this building.
The bright light came forward and I backed further into the apartment and came up to the back of a sofa.
“What did you do to Michael?”
“Michael?” I was stunned by the question. What did all this have to do with Michael?
The light came closer still, so fast, I didn’t have time to react before a hand came out and slapped my face.
“Michael Brooks, you bitch! Did you forget him already? Did you forget what you did to him?”
“Hey, cool it,” the Brit said. “There’s no need to push her around. I’m sure if you just ask her, she’ll tell you what you need to know.”
“Shut up, bitch, and go hold her down. If she wants to play stupid and innocent, I’ll show her what it’s like to mess with someone like me because there isn’t a chance in hell that she’s getting out of here before I get an answer.”
My heart pounded. That voice. That wild and demented voice. Only once before had I heard it in such a tone, so angry.
“Wait, I think you’ve got this all wrong.”
“I don’t get anything wrong, Laura. You were with him, you slut.” She slapped me again, hard enough to knock me back a few steps.
“That’s enough!” the Brit called out.
The lights flicked on and I stared at the women in front of me.
“Camille?”
“Sorry, babe. You look like a really nice girl. I didn’t mean for things to go this far.” Her eyes were filled with sorrow, but it did nothing to diminish the anger and sense of betrayal that took over me. Gone was the friendly California girl I thought I had befriended and in its place was a sophisticated street smart worldly woman with a British accent.
Though I’d only just met her, I’d felt an instant bond with her, an instant sisterhood. I couldn’t believe it had all been a hoax, right from the beginning. The wine, the handsome guy, the rape… all a lie just to get me in her apartment. “Who are you?”
My eyes quickly fell on the other woman, the aggressive woman who’d slapped me, the angry woman who wanted answers.
“Big mistake, turning on that light. Now she knows who I am.”
Her sinister grin turned her beautiful face into a contorted mask of hatred and vengeance.
“Willow,” I whispered in disbelief. Willow Brooks, Michael Brooks’ sister.
Chapter 7
“Willow,” I said, genuinely surprised. “I haven’t seen you and Michael for years. It’s been what…five or six years?”
“oh, stop with the innocent act, Laura. We all know what a wanton slut you are. And we all know you were the last one to see Michael alive.”
“Wait, you’ve got this all wrong. I was nowhere…”
“Stop it!” Her shrill cry startled even Camille, if that was in fact her real name. “I know you were there! Stop with the higher than thou attitude, because you're not going to get away with this.”
She was clearly hysterical, maniacal even. There was no reasoning with her. Her fingers clenched and unclenched repeatedly around the small flashlight she still held in her hand, still flashed in my face despite the overhead light.
Arguing with her would do no good, so I thought I’d try to bluff my way out. “What do you want to know?”
Her eyes narrowed. I’d never particularly liked Willow. She’d always been haughty, always above everyone… far above. But to look at her now, it was hard to believe she was the beautiful young socialite so many women envied and admired.
In truth, she was just a rich brat who thought the world revolved around her. Things had to go her way, or the people around her had to suffer her wrath.
“So you were with him.”
“What if I was?”
“I should have known he’d go crawling back to you. Michael always had a thing for alley cats. He liked the power it gave him to be with someone so beneath him. Trash… something he could screw around with and toss aside without a moment’s thought. That’s all you’ve ever been to him… that is until you tricked him into falling for you.”
I swallowed the ball of anger and repulsion that quickly built up in my throat. I’d known Michael a long time ago… a very long time, but it’d been a short lived and very secret liaison.
“Yes, sweet Laura. I know about your sordid little affair with my brother. You were the little tramp he just couldn’t get enough of.” She shrugged and glanced back at Camille. “If anything, my brother had questionable taste in women. If you’d only seen the young debutants and glamorous socialites who’ve thrown themselves at him over the years.”
She brought her hate-filled gaze back at me. “Lord only knows why he chose you. And I’ll admit I’m surprised to find out he was still into you… until his dying day, as it turned out. Look at you. You're a wannabe trying to act like you belong in a building like this, like you belong in a dress like that. You're all wrong for this kind of life, Laura. You're far beneath Michael’s status. You and your slutty friend Serena think you can fuck your way into the billionaire’s circles. Your father might be high and mighty in the food business, but it’s not enough to grant you entry into the life of the obscenely rich… not even close.”
From our very first encounter, when teens, Willow had shown immense resentment for me. I never really understood why. She was a beautiful and intelligent girl, so I knew it wasn’t a matter of jealousy. At times I’d wondered if she wasn’t overly possessive of her brother.
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Nice try, but Michael told me.”
Told you what, I wanted to ask.
“He was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you and you blew him off. I never understood why he fell for you, but he did, and you just trampled all over him like a gutless rat.”
I tried to think back on those years so long ago. I’d always considered we’d parted ways of mutual agreement. His life was going one way while mine was leading me elsewhere. If he’d been angry about the split, he never showed it.
“You know Michael had a purpose in life… and he also had a purpose in mine. He’d agreed, wil
lingly agreed to go after Serena, to seduce her and to lure her away from Sebastian.”
“Ah yes,” I said with an irrepressible snicker. “Your beloved Sebastian. I’d forgotten just how obsessed you are with Bash.”
“Bash is not an obsession. He’s my destiny.”
“He seems to think otherwise.”
“I don’t think you’re in a position to talk smart, Laura. Bash is my destiny. He’s just been sidetracked by that bitch. She brainwashed him. If you hadn’t gotten in the way, Michael would have seduced Serena and Bash would have had no choice but to leave her and come running to me. You had no business snaking your way back into Michael’s life. You knew he’d take you back, that he still loved you, but you know damn well that you don’t want a life with him… that you don’t love him. You ruined everything for nothing.”
Willow knew nothing of what I felt for Michael. I thought I loved him once. That he was going to be the one. However, our relationship had been tumultuous and he’d led me into a world that was new and strange to me, while I led him into another that made me questioned who I was, but I’d always had great affection for him, and still had.
“You’re living in a dream world, Willow. Whether Serena is in the picture or not, Sebastian wants nothing to do with you. Don’t you get that?”
“Admit it, bitch. You deliberately set out to ruin everything for me. You went after Michael just to ruin my plans. You broke his heart when you left him back then and you just stepped into the picture to break it again, and to keep me from splitting up Serena and Bash.”
“You’ve a fanciful imagination, Willow.”
“Don’t underestimate me, Laura. It could cost you dearly. You’ve already pushed me to turn to another option to get Bash away from Serena, an option I was reluctant to put into play. I could get P.T. on my side. I know that he wants this separation just as much as I do.”
P.T.? Did Willow know who Peter Townshend was? And so intimately that she would turn to him for such a plot?