by P J Gilbers
“What will happen to her?” I asked.
“She’s been charged, attempt to abduct. Judge will probably go light.”
“Can I do anything?” I asked.
“You, as the victim, can make a statement at sentencing.”
Roger and I made it to the ranch around eleven. I sniffed and cried all the way thinking about Gloria. I felt sorry for her but I was angry, feeling betrayed.
I felt hollow.
The weather was heating up, clouds high, thin and wispy. People spoke to me, called me by name, which felt good. I was feeling visible for a change.
Jack was under a tent viewing the last scenes with him and Shandi. Several people were standing around so I hung back, not wanting to get in the way.
In the scene Shandi was wounded and Jack was holding her.
“Rehana, you are the all that I have left. You must hold on…I won’t lose you!” He buried his head in her chest.
The crew applauded. I got bumped and pushed aside and I realized how out of place I was there. And I felt mad as hell.
Roger found me. I hadn’t known I was lost but he said I was.
“What’s wrong? Shandi bug you? You and Jack have another fight?”
“I’m not independent. I’ve always had my own job, my own place, my own money. I have nowhere to go, except protective custody, no job. I’m stuck.”
“I understand but until they capture Welsh you kind of are stuck. You’ve got to have the protection.”
“I know. Maybe I should go into protective custody.”
Roger put his arm around me.
“Think about it long and hard. I think you’d hate it. And I know a whole lot of people around here who would miss you. Lots.”
When they had a break I got Jack’s leg elevated.
“Gonna tell me who you’re mad at?”
“’Don’t know. What time will you be home tonight?”
“What’s wrong, Sam?”
“I need to talk to you about the job with David. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.”
“Okay. How are you going to manage that with Welsh out there?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Sweetie, I can’t talk now. But…you’ve got to stay safe. I know you’re bored.”
“I’m dependent. ‘Can’t have that. I can’t live like this. We need to talk. I’m going back now. We’ll talk tonight.”
Roger took me back to the house and I called David.
“Where are you?”
“Jack’s.”
“I think we should have dinner.”
“Security. I have to stay…”
“Jack isn’t the only one who can provide you with security. Twenty four hours a day. Day and night. I’ll pick you up at six.”
I called Roger.
“I have a meeting.”
Roger was silent.
“With David. At six. He’s picking me up.”
“I’m coming down.”
I met him in the kitchen ready for a fight.
“Sit down, little girl,” he said. “Now tell me what the fuck is going on. Because you’re not going anywhere.”
“Listen, little boy, I’m not a goddamn prisoner.”
“Okay. I’ll call Silverman and turn it over to him. He’ll throw your ass into protective custody.”
“I want to talk to David about a job. He’s offered me a job.”
“I’ll call Jack…”
“No you won’t.”
“Sam, for God’s sakes, you’re putting me in a helluva spot.”
“David said he’d have security.”
“Right. That’s not all he’s gonna have. I want to talk to David.”
I dialed his number on my phone, handed it to Roger, and walked out to the pool.
At six o’clock a black Jeep pulled up followed by David’s Maserati.
“I’m starving. I made reservations at a little bistro if that’s okay. Good place to talk,” he held the door for me.
“Thank you for seeing me tonight.”
He grinned and pulled out into traffic.
“I always told you…anytime, day or night.”
At the Bistro four forbidding security men stepped out of the Jeep and escorted us in.
The place was small, Tuscany-decor, with soft music in the background. We took a table close to the bar. David ordered a bottle of wine and then food began to magically appear.
“We’re the only ones here.”
“Really? ‘Hadn’t noticed.”
“You did something…reserved it or something.”
He grinned. “I wanted to be alone with you.”
“I need a job.”
“Sure, we can talk about that. What would you like to do?”
“I have no idea.”
“I had an investor liaison position for you but you can’t do that with your current security restrictions.”
“I see.”
“It is so wonderful to see you.”
I smiled.
He leaned over and kissed me.
“You know if you stayed with me I could set you up with an office and you could do all kinds of things.”
He had the Cheshire cat smile again.
“Why don’t you just marry me and stop all of this?”
“David, you are the sweetest man in the world. I wish you had a girlfriend or a wife or someone.”
He laughed.
“Oh, but I do. Four actually. Lady friends. Kolina is an occasional visitor. We get together for good times, including very nice sex, vacations sometimes.”
I was in shock, but then I realized there was no need to be.
He moved closer to me.
“I detect a trace of jealousy. How wonderful.”
“No. Don’t be silly.”
“But I will tell you that I have never asked any of them to marry me. If you do ever get tired of the reprobate I am here for you, Sam. And I do have a job for you if you insist you won’t move in with me.”
“Oh?”
“Script reader. I just had one quit. It’s a boring job, really. I’ll give you areas I’m looking for, like fantasy or sci fi, and you review and comment on the scripts. I have a form. I’ll have them delivered to you every day.”
“Sounds fun. Thank you.”
His phone rang. He looked at it.
“Oops.” He walked away from the table and talked for a long time.
“That was the reprobate. Either he wants you back at his place or he’s coming here. He seemed to have a strong feeling about this.”
Senator Ward did not want to meet with George Brown. But he had said two words that made him curious. That guaranteed he would meet and find out what he knew.
The man was tired, unshaven, in an expensive coat, expensive shoes. Even though he looked like he'd been on a three day drunk he handsome, with a gaze that took the Senator by surprise. They were meeting by railroad tracks, behind an empty warehouse.
The Senator had one aid with him even though George had told him to come alone.
They stared at each other.
"Abdul Shah," the Senator's voice was hushed.
George nodded.
"I had the good fortune of spending several productive hours with his widow. She shared a great deal before her unfortunate demise. It was quite enlightening."
Ward took a step closer to him.
"What the fuck do you want?"
"Money, of course. A cut. But...I want a personal favor. I want...Frank McMorris."
"Why not just kill him?"
George laughed. "Now where's the fun in that?"
The house was quiet when I got back. One of the security men came in with me and made me call Roger.
“I’m back.”
“I know. Jack’s upstairs in the tub. He’d like to speak with you.”
Roses sat on the front table. The card read, Love, Jack.
I climbed the stairs and knocked on his bedroom. There was no answer but I heard water running.
<
br /> “Jack?” I peered in the door.
“In the tub.”
I walked in and saw his new boot on the floor.
He had both feet in the tub with the whirlpool going, drinking a scotch.
“I didn’t know you were getting your boot today. I bet it feels wonderful to have that cast off. Let me see.”
“I only show my naked self to other naked people. You look very sexy in that. Come on in, we can talk.”
I stripped and sunk into the warm water opposite him and looked at his withered ankle. I instinctively began to massage it.
He pulled me on top of him.
“Why did you tell David you had to have a job?”
“Because I have to have my own money. Nothing here is real… it’s all glitz and props… my future isn’t real.”
“This is real, dammit! I love you. I want you for the rest of my life. And I don’t want you screwing around with anyone else. ‘Drove me insane tonight when I thought of you with David again.” He kissed me hard, our teeth hitting together.
“I want you to be mine. All mine. Still having your…”
“Yeah. Couple of more days.”
“Can’t modern science do something about that?”
“Yeah, it’s called pregnancy but that brings on another whole set of issues.”
Thursday
Two happy weeks had flown by, until…
Jack left early for the studio. At nine I received another shipment of scripts. There were three of them. David had a brief note that he was still looking for a science fiction/adventure/romance.
And that he loved me. I read it over and over feeling his lips…everywhere.
He also included a hefty check. Nice.
It took me about an hour to go through the scripts. None of them fit his requirements.
At noon one of the security men I didn’t know brought me another package. It was heavier than the scripts.
I put it on the desk and ripped open the gray bag.
It was a small laptop. I turned it on. The only thing showing on the desk top was a folder marked: “For My Dear Friend Sam.”
I stared at it, wishing I had x-ray vision. I just knew this was not going to be good.
I clicked.
John Black appeared.
“Hello Sam. I thought you might enjoy seeing your beloved behind the scenes, when you’re not around. In the backgrounds you will often see your good friend Fritz, too.
“Hmmm. Could it be that Fritz has been keeping Jack’s secrets from you?”
His words were staccato stabs.
Pictures followed of Jack and Shandi. He was sitting and she was in his arms. He kissed her belly and then moved down. She laughed.
The trembling began in my spine, vibrating up to my skull. I could not bear this. I had lost all my strength.
I was dying.
“Makes you wonder what they do in private if they do this in public with their clothes on. I can get you pictures of that, too. Maybe we could watch them together. My place.”
The next shot was of Jack flirting with the make-up girl, playing with her breasts.
No moisture was left in my mouth.
I was dying.
And last was Jack behind a tent kissing Shandi. He held her just as he had held me. He looked into her eyes just as he had mine.
“You see my dear Sam animals don’t change their spots. Or their stripes. Or their dicks. Jack is a womanizing ass, always has been, and Fritz keeps his sexy, sweet, secrets very well.”
He pointed his finger at the camera like a gun and shot it.
He knew I was dying.
Then he laughed.
A message came on with his phone number.
“The offer to Chicago is still on. And I could line you up with several other wealthy clients. You are a remarkably sweet ass. I still spend alone time thinking, imagining your ass as mine. Jack told us it was good. I believe him. Kiss, kiss.”
It went black.
And I wished I was dead.
The truth bit me. It was over. I would never hold Jack again, laugh with him, kiss him. No future.
I don’t know how long I sat there.
Roger wandered in eating a sandwich.
“Hey. Heard you got some packages…Sam, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what to do… have to leave… need a place… leave…have to leave now.”
As I spoke the trembling intensified.
“Sam…what the hell is going on?”
He clicked on the icon on the laptop.
“Fuck!” he whispered. Not to me. I wasn’t sure to whom.
“Fuck. Son of a bitch.”
I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes.
“I need a place to go. Now. I need a place, please.”
“I think you need to talk to Jack.”
“Why? No need. It’s clear.”
I walked to the bar and poured myself a large scotch spilling a great deal of it. I went to the pool and sat on the edge. It began to rain. It was an interesting sensation and I played with the drops on my arm and thigh. I let the rain do what it wanted. It would anyway.
I didn’t care.
I was dead.
I drank. It was warm and real and put air in my lungs, quieting the trembling. Rain fell watering down my scotch.
I heard Fritz and Roger talking.
He said to Roger, “you just let her sit out there in the rain? Remind me to never leave you alone with puppies or small children! Fool!”
He walked to me.
“Sam, come in. You need to dry off.”
He helped me up and we walked…he walked, I stumbled…to his house.
I watched him undress me, peeling my wet clothes off, like a child. I didn’t care.
I was dead.
He wrapped me in a thick blue robe.
I seemed to step out of myself, and I watched as I stood and slapped him as hard as I could.
I didn’t know slapping made your hand sting. I’d never done it before.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so fucking sorry. This is a side of Jack I was hoping you wouldn’t see.”
The trembling, now fed by the rage, spread like gangrene. I tried to drink but Fritz took the glass away from me.
He put his arms around me and I was surprised that I could accept the comfort.
But I did.
“How can I help you? What can I do?”
“Kill him.”
“’Don’t think I can do that.”
“I’ve got to leave.”
“I know. Stay with me, Sam. Or we can go away. Go find the castles. Make beautiful babies. I have always loved you. And I always will.”
“If you did then…”
“I know. But the thing you don’t understand about Jack is that he does love you. I’ve never seen him with a woman like he is with you.”
“The lie has killed me. I’m dead.”
“No, Sammy. You’re here with me. You’re going to get through this.”
“’Not sure I want to.”
An hour later I was packed and getting into the car with Roger and Fritz. Fritz said he had a place for me. I didn’t remember the drive there at all.
The apartment building was at least twelve stories if not more and made of white cubes staggered on top of each other, jutting out like boulders in a cliff. Luis was already there, looking very stern and watchful.
Fritz and Roger looked straight ahead on the elevator.
“Penthouse?” I asked. “I just wanted a small place. Something I could afford.”
Fritz ignored me.
The doors opened to a cavernous apartment with black marble tile, white and brown furniture, and wall to wall windows.
“You can see for miles.”
“This was the easiest to secure,” said Roger.
“I suppose so unless they’re coming by helicopter.”
A woman came out of the back somewhere. She stood in a military stance.
“This
is Jess. She’ll be here the next twenty four hours. Perhaps longer.” We shook hands. She didn’t smile. She retreated back to the rooms that I could not see. All I knew was that she was heavily armed.
“We also have two people downstairs. They have walkie talkies. This is how you lock the elevator.” Roger showed me how to use everything. “I’m going on record, Sam, that you’d be better off back at the compound. I called Silverman. He was pissed.”
I nodded. I felt like a scared, sniffling kid being dropped off at camp. I didn’t want this. I wanted to go back. I didn’t want this death.
“I can stay,” Fritz offered. He did not touch me.
I shook my head.
“Jack is going to come over,” he warned.
“I don’t want to see him. Thank you both, very much.” I had to turn away as the elevator doors closed.
The silence was a hungry serpent, swallowing me inch by inch. I wandered into the chrome and granite kitchen, pouring myself another scotch. There was a pantry full of comfort foods, but none of Sarah’s chocolate chip roasted almond cookies. I took a package of pecan sandies out.
The sounds of the ice rattling in my glass and the cookie crunching in my mouth were the only evidence that I existed here.
The scotch warmed the places where the shards of pain pierced me.
Chief Matthews was nude, as were his two seconds in command, Jameson and Rudy. The three prostitutes were busy tying a fourth one to an X shaped device built specifically for this bondage.
Rudy was ready. He began the erotic torture, blindfolding the young woman, clamping her nipples, and pulling out the cat of nine tails.
He kissed her and then gagged her.
"My good slut," he whispered as he began.
"Chief," Jameson said. "We have to talk about the Governor and the Mayor."
"No we don't."
"They're investigating. Asking questions."
"Slut!" he called the tall, black woman to him. She automatically knelt before him.
He moaned.
"I've got a year and a half to retirement. I can skate from here. Ah, baby that's good. Good slut..."