Skin Games (28 page)

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Time continued to pass, and as it did, I continued to lose control of my faculties.  Eventually it wasn’t just my piss that I couldn’t hold in.  Everything was soiled, bloody, bruised and broken.  Every part of me.  Every muscle hurt.  Each bone ached.  I was hungry.  All I had to do was tell Mario what he wanted to hear, and this would end, for better or worse.

But I had no intention of doing that.  None.  Zero.  Zip.  Nada.  Mario Torretta had broken many men in his day.  But he’d never break me.  He could break my bones and keep me captive until I shit in my pants.  He could even kill me.

But he’d never, ever break my resolve.

I heard voices, and the door opened again.  The light came on and I saw Mario, Tommy, Scrubby and Gucci Mike.

“Godamn it stinks in here,” Scrubby said.

“You can say that again,” Tommy agreed.

Mario wasn’t interested in the odor.  “This ends today,” he said, and the way he said it, his diction so clear, his voice so calm and stern, never cracking, never breaking—the way he said it, I knew he meant it.

This was the day I was going to die.  It was the only possible ending.  The sooner the better.

“Just fucking kill me, then,” I shouted.  To shout with force took all the strength I had left, but I surprised myself as I found it.  “Kill me.  I’m never gonna give in to you, so fucking kill me and get it over with.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Shamrock?  Put you out of your fucking misery.  End your miserable, shitty life.  That’s what you want?”

“Let’s go.  Let’s do it,” Scrubby said.

Mario held up his hand, motioning for Scrubby to be quiet, which he did.

“No,” Mario said.  “Not a chance.  No way he gets off easy after all this.”  He walked past me and called, “Come over here.  Where’s that bathtub?”

Scrubby and Tommy followed him into the corner, and I heard shuffling.  I couldn’t muster up the energy to turn fully around to see them.  Gucci Mike stood over me.  As if I was going to get up and run.  Even though I was no longer taped at the hands and legs, I wasn’t going anywhere.

I could hear an irritating sound, and then I saw Tommy and Scrubby dragging an old porcelain bathtub across the floor.

“Gimme that,” Mario said, and Tommy handed him a jug.  It looked like an old bottle of bleach, but the label had long since faded.  “You know what’s in here?”  Mario shook the bottle, and I heard the fluid inside, sloshing around.  “It’s acid.  You hear me, Shamrock?  Fucking acid.  Do you have any idea how much this shit burns?  Do you?”

I tried not to look.  Mario took off the screw-top and walked over to the tub.  I wasn’t looking, but I heard the acid dripping into the tub.

Mario walked back to me and bent over, which wasn’t easy for him.  He tilted his head.  We were now eye to eye.

“It’s not too late, Shamrock.  Just agree to leave Nicole alone.  It’s that simple.  You agree to leave Nicole alone, and I let you walk out of here.”

I felt like telling him there was no way I was walking out.  My kneecap was completely fucked.  But I kept that to myself.

Nothing angered Mario more than silence.  Mario liked screaming.  Mario liked begging.  He’d even take being told to fuck off.  But silence infuriated him.

He put the jug down.  The cigar chomping started again.  He bent down and grabbed the back of my shirt.

“Grab his legs,” Mario said, and Scrubby grabbed a leg while Tommy grabbed the other.  My kneecap began to cry out, but I held the pain in.  Mario pulled me by the collar and held me over the bathtub.  “Is this what you want?  You wanna go in?”

There was a coating of acid on the floor of the tub, maybe an inch.  Maybe less.  Enough to hurt like hell.

“Is this what you want, Shamrock?”

“Drop him in,” Scrubby said.  “Come on.  Let’s drop his ass in.”

Mario pushed me away from the tub and then dropped me.  Tommy and Scrubby followed suit, and I hit the cold floor.

“Aw, come on,” Scrubby said, clearly disappointed.

I was relieved, but only a little.  I knew the reprieve was temporary.

“Enough of this shit,” Mario said.  He waddled across the floor, stomping his feet, seemingly out of breath.  He tossed the butt of the cigar at the wall and walked out of the room.

“This fuckin’ guy.  I can’t believe he’s still alive,” Scrubby said.

Tommy shook his head while mussing his pompadour.

I heard shuffling from outside.  Then I heard a voice.  Despite its frantic tone and the distortion brought on by the ringing in my ears, the voice pleased me.

She walked around the corner and entered the room.  As crazy as it may seem, after all I’d been through, for just a fleeting second when our eyes locked, I forgot all about my pain.  Her brown eyes, big as ever, looked at me.  My stomach tingled, just like the first day she’d paid attention to me.  My palms started to sweat.  I almost had the strength to get up and walk over to her.  To take her in my arms, embrace her, plant a fat juicy kiss on her soft pink lips.

Almost.

Reality is never as romantic as we’d like.  She didn’t run to me in slow motion, soft music playing in the background as she hugged me.  Instead, she screamed.  A horrible, piercing scream.  It seemed to go on for an eternity.  Her eyes were wide.  Her tongue seemed to vibrate.  Her lips quivered and her nostrils flared.

She said some words, several.  But all I could understand was, “Daddy!”

Nicole tried to get to me, but Mario reached around her waist and pulled her towards him, the front of his arm wrapped around her like a belt.  For a second, she was airborne, kicking her legs in front of her, but Mario’s big arm easily stretched across her skinny waist, and he set her down while he took a firm hold of her with both arms tugging her shoulders.

“Look at him now,” Mario said.  “Look at him.”

Nicole’s screams turned to tears.  Her face went red.  I wanted to reach out to her, to tell her I was okay.  That she didn’t need to cry for me.  But I couldn’t spit the words out of my mouth.  I could only gasp and feebly reach towards her.

“Daddy, what have you done?”

“Look at him.”  Mario continued to repeat himself.  His face got closer to hers.  He was spitting flecks of cigar tobacco on her.  “Look at him.  Look at him.”

Nicole did the opposite.  She slammed her eyes shut, which only incited Mario.  He dragged her towards me—the heels of her boots scraping against the floor—and then forced her to bend down.

“Open your eyes, Nicole.  Look at your loverboy now.”

“Daddy, stop.”

“This is what you get when you defy me.  This is what he gets.”

“Daddy, stop it.  Please.”

“This will all stop as soon as you two agree that it’s over.”

“Oh, Sean.  I’m so sorry.  This is all my fault.”

I wanted to say no.  It’s not your fault.  But instead I reached out towards her, our fingers just inches apart, my blood-soaked stumps stretched towards her artificially extended, red painted nails, but I couldn’t manage to touch her.

Mario motioned to Scrubby and Tommy with his chin.  They came over and Mario passed Nicole off to Tommy.  She kicked and struggled for a moment, but Tommy yanked her back, then put both his arms around her from behind in a fierce bear hug.

“It’s over, Nicole.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Oh, I can’t?  I most certainly can.  And I am.”

“No,” she shrieked.  The acoustics of the room bounced her voice off the walls and through my aching eardrums.

“I’m telling you, Nicole.  It is over.  This piece of shit is out of your life.  I’m not asking you; I am telling you.”

Nicole looked at me and started sobbing again.  “Look what you did to him, Daddy.  He’s hurt.  Oh my god, Daddy, he needs a doctor.  We need to get him some help.”

“Oh, fuck him.  He brought this on himself.  He thought he could run away with you?  What a joke.”

“Daddy, stop it.”  She turned back to me.  “It was the locket that gave me away.  He saw my mother’s jewelry box missing and he knew.  He just knew.  I was so stupid to go back for it but I just had to have it.”

Mario looked at me, grinding his teeth.  “Did you think for one second that you could handle a girl like Nicole?  On your own?  Without my blessing?”

“Daddy, please.”

“How would you provide for her?”

“Enough.”  She tried to wiggle towards me but couldn’t.  “Sean, I’m sorry.  He locked me in my room.  He wouldn’t let me leave the house.  I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Fuck him,” Mario said.  “He’s lucky I found you before you left.  If I would’ve had to chase you two down, it would’ve only made it worse for him.”

“I love him, Daddy.  I love him.” 

Mario grabbed her by the hair while Tommy still held her body.  He forced her to look at me.  Our eyes met again.  I could feel her pain even stronger than my own.  I just wanted to reach out and comfort her.  Nothing else mattered.

“You love him?  Look at him.  He’s not worthy of you.”

“I love him.  How can you do this to him when you know I love him?”

“He’s a piece of shit.  Half mick, mutt piece of shit.”

“How can you do this to me?  Your only daughter.  How can you, Daddy?  How can you?”

“I said it’s over, and that’s that!”

“Daddy, I’m pregnant!”  Nicole hollered the words.

The room went silent.  Nicole shook free of Tommy and faced her father.

“I’m going to have Sean’s baby.”

Tommy’s mouth dropped.  Gucci Mike inched towards Mario, but then he thought better of it.  Scrubby snarled but even he didn’t dare say a word.

Mario blew out of his mouth, a long heavy gust of wind.  Then he sucked in through his nostrils.  They whistled.  It may have been ten seconds.  Or maybe it was a full minute.  Time stood still.

The room stood still.

When the pause finally ended, it was abrupt.  Mario sucked in more wind.  Then he reached down and picked me up with one burly arm.  He cried out as he dropped me face first into the tub.

I heard Nicole scream.  I wanted to tell her it was okay.  That she could stop screaming.  That she didn’t need to worry about me.  I could handle it.  I’d be fine.

But instead, I felt a shutter.  It started deep down, at the very depth of my core.  Something started to work its way into my guts, then ran up my diaphragm and into my throat only to be ejected through my unsuspecting mouth.

A scream.  The most horrifying, awful noise I’ve ever heard in my life, and it was coming from my mouth.  I’ve never been much for religion or mystic bullshit, but I guess you could say I had an out-of-body experience.  My face, my arms, my legs, the entire front of my body sizzled as the acid quickly soaked in.  Yet I was watching from overhead.  An angel gliding in the air.  I could see Tommy springing up and clutching Nicole.  Scrubby grabbed the jug of acid.  I saw it for myself.

“Give me that,” Mario said.  He grabbed the jug from Scrubby, and he shook it.  The acid flowed out like champagne at a celebration.  Mario held the jug above me, and scalding liquid poured down my back.

The screaming continued.  The horrible noises sprung from my mouth.  They wouldn’t stop.

Mario tossed the empty jug and said, “Say it’s over, Sean.  Just say it.”

My resolve wasn’t broken.  The animal would outlast the farmer.  The donkey was too fucking stubborn.  It wasn’t me who said the next word; it was my stubborn, donkey angel.

“No!”  I’m sure the word didn’t sound clear, more an awful, banshee-like shriek of stout but pathetic misery.  But it was such a simple word to say that it came right out of my mouth, even as I smelled flesh melting.  My flesh.

Mario laughed.  A hoarse and horrible laugh.  Then he screamed something so awful, you’d have thought he was the one in the acid bath.  “Say it!”

I grabbed the side of the tub and pulled myself up.  I rolled over and out of the tub, plunging to the ground below.  I was still screaming and hollering something awful, but between shrieks, my donkey angel managed to say, “No!”

 “Say it!”

She was looking at me, and what an awful sight that must have been.  Nicole was still screeching as she said, “Okay, Daddy.  Okay.  It’s over.  Just stop hurting him.”

I stopped screaming and tried to catch my breath.  Nicole stopped struggling and Tommy loosened his hold.  Mario bent over, his hands on his kneecaps as he too sucked wind.

“It’s over?” he asked as his heavy breathing sent his blubbery gut up and down.

“It’s over,” Nicole confirmed.

“Shamrock?”

“It’s up to Nicole.  If she means it, then it’s over.”  I knew she didn’t mean it.  I just knew she didn’t really mean it.  “Nicole, it’s up to you.  Tell me what you want.”

She looked around the room.  She looked down at me.  Then she looked to her father.  “Will you get him help?”

Mario nodded.

“And you’ll leave him alone.”

Mario nodded again.

I was flat on my back, looking up at her.  Steam rose off my body and drifted upward.  I thought of my mother lying on her deathbed.  The pain she endured and never once did she feel sorry for herself.  I knew she’d be proud of me.  If this was the way my life was destined to end, then my life was lived the right way.  I did the very best I could.  Just like she did.  Sometimes things just don’t go your way.

It wasn’t me who broke.  It was Nicole.  “It’s over,” she said.  “I’m sorry, Sean, but it’s over.”

I closed my eyes and turned away from her.  I heard sobs and high-heeled boots clattering across the floor as she ran out of the storage room.

Mario smiled as he straightened up tall.  He turned to Tommy and said, “Take him to Jacobi Hospital, and drop him off in front of the emergency room.”

Tommy nodded.  Then he and Scrubby picked me up, carried me outside, and did exactly as they were told.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Maria says.

“Thank you.”  Skin aims the lamp downward then leans back into the darkness.

“That is an absolutely horrible story.”

Skin nods.

“So you are hiding down here?”

“I guess you could say that.  I’ve been living down here.  No one bothers me.”