Part 14 (2/2)

I tipped it, but she thrashed her head. Almost spilled it. Hard to do this one handed. She slid down and through my arm and spun, licked at me. I fending her off with my free hand, still balancing the drink in the other.

Alice was sure as h.e.l.l scared, I could tell, but she was also pretty sure she could beat me. So she bared her teeth, seemed ready to pounce as she backed away from me, collecting her clothes.

”I should've known,” she said. ”Should've known, you son of a b.i.t.c.h.”

”Just drink the f.u.c.king wine, would you?”

”So you can flay me open and play with my spleen?”

”You don't understand.” I took a few steps towards her, backing her into the small s.p.a.ce between bed and wall. ”I don't want to hurt you at all. But I don't trust you.”

”Oh? You don't trust me, Mr. Drink the f.u.c.king Wine?”

”That's not it.”

”I'll bite you. I'll stab my nails through your b.a.l.l.sack.”

”C'mon. A few sips.”

I went at her again, sacrificing protection to grab her cheeks with one hand and take a chance at splas.h.i.+ng wine into her mouth. She closed her lips and blew her cheeks wide, scratched me with her claws. I pressed hard on her cheeks like a balloon, got them open again, and send half the wine flying. I'm sure a good half-teaspoon actually got past her teeth, but then she started spitting. Another slash from her fingernails. I skipped back to avoid them. She hopped onto the bed and went around me, pulling on her dress at the same time. Heading for the door. Oh s.h.i.+t.

What was I going to do? Go after her? Stark raving naked? I lunged, tried to grab her arm before she got to the door. Missed and fell.

”No, don't, please, G.o.d.”

She looked down at me, sneered, but was frantically working the deadbolt and the handled while trying to s.h.i.+mmy her dress down over her a.s.s.

”Alice, wait, I can explain.”

”f.u.c.k off! You...you...rapist!”

I flinched. Not that, please. I was far from that. But what else could you call it?

She flung the door wide open and started out but ran right into Jennings, blocking the doorway. He gave her a shove and she fell on her a.s.s, not far from my face. He closed the door and then straddled Alice. She was crying by then, shrieking, and Jennings pinned her down with his knees on each side and covered her mouth.

He said, ”Where are the pills?”

”I dissolved some in the wine. I thought-”

”Give me the pills. The real pills. Come on.”

So I got up. Wondered if he was checking me out all naked. But it wasn't the time or place, and he wasn't anyway, and you know, I felt a little disappointed in that, but I still wrapped the sheet around my waist before I got the pills. Three of them left in a sandwich bag in my pocket. I shook them out of the bag. Palm shaking, the pills bouncing all over. I close my fingers around them and turned back to Jennings and Alice.

Jennings was remarkably strong, holding her down so that only her legs kicked wildly, not near enough to buck him off. Head steady in place. Her eyes were streaming, squinty.

He held out his hand. ”Hurry already, Mick. We're f.u.c.ked enough as it is.”

Hard to argue with that. I dropped the pills into his palm. He cupped them, shook them like dice. Then pointed a finger in Alice's face.

”Listen, we're not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. But you have a big problem with keeping your mouth shut. So all we're going to do is hide you for the time being. Is that okay?”

She shook her head.

”You don't get it, hon. This is happening. Either you take these pills on your own, or I'm going to help you get them down very uncomfortably.”

I thought she relaxed a little at that. Resigned, maybe. She cut a look towards me, and I realized I was wrapped in a sheet, more worried about my w.a.n.g hanging out than about her safety. Oh yeah, that would endear me to her. I was thinking of how this would end, with her calling the police. What had originally kind of been her idea was suddenly rape and imprisonment. She would have dope in her blood, my s.e.m.e.n in her v.a.g.i.n.a, and both Jennings' and my DNA all over her. I'd become the very type of person I reviled most.

I said, ”Jennings...”

He turned his head towards me. Eyebrows high, waiting.

And if I were to tell him we should stop, let her go, and give up? Would that make it better? Would Alice listen to my explanation, see the logic of it, G.o.d help me, and maybe even agree to pitch in on our side?

Didn't I try something like that already?

Jennings said, ”Well?”

She was watching me, too. Like it all depended on what I did next. Did I want her to forgive me? Be afraid of me? Or at least respect me for having the b.a.l.l.s she thought I'd lacked?

I stood from the bed, let the sheet fall off. I was still limp and spent from the f.u.c.king, but something about this moment, about me, not Alice, had my blood flowing enough to give my c.o.c.k some thickness.

I said, ”I'll get her some water.”

We waited until she was mostly unconscious before even talking about the next move. As soon as Jennings' hand had come off her mouth, she bared teeth and started biting. She didn't get him. Once she started trying to yell for help. he cupped his hand under her chin and pushed it closed. He palmed the pills and shoved them past her lips, covered her nose, and waited until she swallowed. The coughing started, and Jennings took the water I'd brought and held it for her while she drank.

After another ten minutes of keeping her bound and quiet, the pills kicked in. My hands had been balled into fists the whole time, angry crescents of fingernails cutting my skin. I got dressed and collapsed into a chair while Jennings lifted Alice like she barely weighed a thing and laid her on the bed.

Not my finest hour, I could a.s.sure you. My stomach was fluttery and the sweat rolled off like I was in a sauna. The surprise was Jennings. I'd already admired how he barged in and took control without wavering, but to see him all business while Alice snored on the bed was chilling. He was on the phone with Octavia, talking low. I made out, ”She's down” and ”That's going to take some kind of miracle”, but the rest of the conversation was a mystery, and he wasn't telling once he hung up. I again wondered just what he'd done for her that might be worse than this.

Jennings said, ”We have to get her into the car.”

He called Octavia's monstrous SUV ”the car” as if that's what everyone drove. A souped-up American luxury tank.

”And how do we do that?”

”We carry her.”

”Like luggage?”

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