Authors: Andrea Smith
(Oh God!)
“Well, what have we here?” he asked. “Looks like Tristan is partial to having you dress up like his whore. Is that what your man likes, Gina? Perhaps he will get his wish this evening when I make you my whore. Yes, fucking you in this back alley will be proof to your Tristan that you are quite the whore, I think.”
(You are so dead, Nick. Tristan will fucking kill you.)
I felt his hands travel up my thighs to my underwear.
“Yes, Gina. You have made your cunt quite accessible for my cock, I see. How very thoughtful of you to wear panties without a crotch. No need to waste my time undressing you. I can get right down to business.” Nick laughed as if he found himself very amusing. The sick bastard didn’t care if I was comatose or not. He was going to do whatever he wanted.
Ever so slowly, I moved my right hand on the pavement. I allowed my fingers to feel around for something, anything. Nick was distracted momentarily. From beneath my eyelashes I could see that he had his hand on his cock. He was masturbating!
“Let’s see,” he said, “I need to find a stick for you, Gina. Have you ever been brought to painful pleasure with a thick, nubby tree stick?”
(Oh good God. There is no fucking way.)
“I pleasured Teresa with a nice knotty, tree branch, one time. She didn’t find enjoyment in it, though. She thought it would hurt the baby. That was the whole point, the stupid bitch.”
He laughed derisively as he evidently was reliving the incident in his twisted mind. He moved up off of me now, but he was still only inches away. He was looking for a stick. There was no way I could jump up and get past him. He was blocking the only way out. My other hand frantically searched the pavement; it was halfway under the dumpster. My fingers closed around something. It was a brick! I inched it out little by little. I had it clasped in my hand now. My hand was still out of site, just under the outside edge of the dumpster.
“I suppose this will have to do, Gina. No sticks or branches readily available. As luck would have it, it seems your establishment tossed out a perfectly good broom.”
I heard his sick laugh again, and from under my lashes, I watched as he broke the broom stick in half over his muscular thigh.
“Yes, this will work quite nicely,” he crooned, once again lowering himself down to straddle my torso. This time, one of his thighs remained inside my legs in order to spread it further. I could feel the cold breeze roll across my private area. Damn that sick son-of-a-bitch!
“Which end would you like in first, Gina? The smooth rounded tip, or the splintered, raggedy edge where it broke; it is your choice. Well, I guess since you are giving me the silent treatment, then I’ll decide. I say we go with . . . the splintered end, for shits and giggles.”
(Oh hell, no!)
I willed my adrenaline to hit top speed. I had once chance at this. One, small window of opportunity was all that I had to make sure that the brick clutched in my trembling hand connected with this bastard’s skull.
I watched beneath nearly closed eyes as Nick scooted back so that he could get the ragged-edge of the broom stick aligned with my crotch before he shoved it in full force.
I counted to three in my head. Just as Nick clasped his hand firmly around the stick to guide his missile of torture into me, I pulled my hand from beneath the dumpster and slammed the brick against the side of Nick’s head.
He dropped the stick and screamed in pain. I hadn’t knocked him out; I had thoroughly pissed him off. The brick was still in my hand. I raised it again to take another crack at his skull.
Just then there were voices in the alley. Someone hollered my name. It was Tristan. Nick was still cursing me, and trying to hold me down. I screamed for Tristan. In a flash, I felt the weight of Nick being lifted off of me. Jo Jo was there beside me, helping me to sit up.
Tristan had Nick in his grasp. I watched as he flung him down onto the pavement. Tristan was enraged as he proceeded to beat the hell out of him. He was slamming his head into the pavement again and again. Nick was kicking and flailing his arms about, but he never got a clean shot at Tristan. Not once.
Finally, I found my voice.
“Tristan, stop! I don’t want you going to prison for that sick son-of-a-bitch, please!”
Tristan stopped. He looked over at me and I saw the fury in his eyes slowly calm. He got off of Nick and pulled him up, flinging him aside like a rag doll as he came over to see about me.
By this time, a small crowd had gathered in the alley. Jo Jo had called the police; one of the bouncers came out and was given the responsibility of detaining Nick until the authorities arrived. Tristan gathered me up in his arms and took me inside the club. He wrapped his coat around me. I buried my face in his neck. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.
It had been a week since the altercation with Nick. He was in jail for several felony counts. His arraignment had taken place. He had a public defender assigned to the case.
My bruises were healing up nicely; luckily, he hadn’t broken my jaw. My family now knew the specifics of not only what happened a week ago, but what had happened twelve years ago. My mother had not taken it well. She said she felt ignorant and guilty.
“Nick fooled a lot of people, Mom.”
“He never fooled your father,” she confessed to me, “He always told me that there was something inside of Nick that was evil. That was why your father was so happy when you left him and moved out of state. Even though we didn’t see you much, your father said he knew you were better off far away from Nick. I guess I just assumed your father was worried you two would reconcile. I never dreamed he thought Nick could be a physical threat to you.”
“Oh Mom. I feel guilty too, you know? I should have told you and Daddy what happened back then.”
“Water under the bridge, Gina Marie. Water under the bridge.”
“How is Leo doing with all of this?”
“Frankly, Gina, I think perhaps Leo knew Nick had problems. He hasn’t admitted as much, it is just a suspicion on my part. Of course, he wants justice done. Leo would never condone that type of behavior.”
Mom and I agreed to start getting the wedding preparations going. Our wedding date was six months off, so according to her, we were behind schedule. She had convinced me to get married in the Catholic Church I had attended growing up, and the one that they still attended. Tristan was fine with it.
Tylar stopped over for lunch mid-week. She had been calling me daily since ‘the incident’ as Tristan and I had started calling it. Tylar bested my mother as a worrywart.
Preston was in the living room playing with Reese; Tylar and I were sitting at the dining room table where we could both talk and keep an eye on them.
“Well Tylar, last year was one crazy year, don’t you think?”
“You won’t get any argument out of me on that one, Gina.”
“We ought to write a book,” I said, laughing.
“A book?” she asked, “As in just one?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “I think it would make good reading.”
“Gina, it would have to be more like
three
books, I think. It would be impossible to cram all of that into just one book.”
“Ah hell, no one would believe it anyway,” I sighed.
“So, what’s in our crystal ball for this year?”
“Well,” she said, trying to use an accent and sound like a Hungarian gypsy “Let me see. I see a wedding this year. I see this wedding right now in my crystal ball. It appears to be a June wedding; the sun is shining and I see the beautiful bride and her very handsome groom walking down the aisle of a church. Wait a minute; it’s coming in much clearer now. Why yes, it is the wedding of my BFF. I see more. Shall I continue?”
“Oh yes, please do Madam Zelda,” I joked, refilling our ice tea glasses. Tylar was in an unusually playful mood today.
“I see your matron of honor walking down the aisle before you. Oh, the gown, she is so lovely! What’s this? Your matron of honor has gained some weight in the tummy, it seems. Only the tummy. How strange.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Are you serious, Ty? When?”
“I’m due right around Trey’s birthday.”
“What did you do, girlfriend; help yourself to some coma sex?”
“No, Gina,” she laughed. “It was the cruise. I distinctly remember Trey getting in the mood whenever I put one of those skimpy bikinis on that someone insisted I buy before the trip.”
“I see; so the bikinis I selected are the reason for this good news, huh?”
“Well that, along with the fact that my Depo-Provera shot had worn off.”
“I am really happy for you, Ty. How are you feeling?”
“I feel good, Gina. I feel like I did when I was pregnant with Preston. I hope that is a good sign.”
“Hey girlfriend; everything will be fine this time. Please don’t let yourself worry unnecessarily.”
“You sound like Trey, Gina. Anyhow, you haven’t asked Madame Zelda about what else is in store.
“Oh right, right. Tell me more, Madam Zelda.”
Tylar loved this fortune teller routine we had just concocted.
“Madame Zelda sees another diamond ring being placed on a slender finger. The man is very handsome; he bears a resemblance to George Clooney. The woman is very pretty and sweet; her hair is dark blond, her eyes are green.”
“Really? Your dad is going to ask Brenda to marry him?”
“Uh huh,” she said, pleased as punch. “He is asking her on Valentine’s Day to get engaged. I think he wants to wait a year or two before they get married though. My dad doesn’t jump into anything that quickly. Besides, he wants to retire from the bench before they wed so that he can totally devote himself to her. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” I said.
“Hey, what’s wrong Gina? You look like someone let the air out of your ‘happy’ balloon.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Ty.”
She gave me her look that said she wasn’t going to drop it.
“It’s just the mention of Valentine’s Day; it brings back some memories now more than ever.”
“I’m sorry, Gina. I didn’t think.”
“No, no reason to apologize. It will fade eventually.”
I had confided some of my story relating Nick to Tylar, but not everything. Tristan was the only one who knew everything.
“Hey Gina,” she said, “Can I ask you something and you promise that you won’t get mad or take it the wrong way?”
“Sure,” I replied with a shrug.
“Why is it that you never shared with me any of that stuff about Nick? I mean, to be honest, as your BFF, it really kind of hurt that you hadn’t at least told me something before now. I mean Tristan knew, right?”
“Yes, Ty. I told Tristan about it after I returned from Hoboken. He was the first person that I ever told. I had put it from my mind for a long time; it was not a memory that I wanted to revisit.”
“Didn’t you trust me with your secret, Gina?”