“Jerry will care,” Tony insists. “You wanna cross him? I don’t.”
This makes Mike hesitate. “Well shit…how’ll he know? You gonna tell on me?”
One of the others pipes up. “He’s got a point, Tone. How will they know? Put her clothes back on her and smack her a few times, she’ll keep her mouth shut right enough. Shit, look at her, man. She’s scared half to death as it is. She won’t say shit.”
The fourth man, who so far hasn’t said anything, sidles up beside Mike, his eyes sparking an evil so palpable my skin crawls; he’s medium height, medium build, with brown hair in a classic side part. You’d never notice him in a crowd, but one look into his eyes and you can see the evil there.
“We can all have a turn, fellas. But seein’ how she fought back there, I’d say we oughta hold her down.” He spits at my feet, only narrowly missing. “Way I figure, we owe it to Jerry to put her in line. Teach her a lesson, right? Soften her up for him, like.”
Tony, outnumbered, glances at me. “I dunno, guys. Bud was clear: no one touches her. And didn’t he say he wasn’t too far away?”
“He said he was thirty minutes out, but that was a good fifteen minutes ago.” This is Mike, the one who first suggested raping me.
I’m shaking—yes, with fear, but I have the knife and I’m not actually tied up. I’ll make them bleed before they get to have their way with me. I’ll fight so hard they have no choice but to kill me; let them rape my corpse.
The darkness of my thoughts shocks me, but after what I’ve been through in the last hour alone, it’s not all that surprising.
I keep my eyes down so they think I’m frozen with fear.
They argue a bit more, Tony insisting it’s a bad idea and the other badgering him, calling him a pussy, needling him, insinuating that he’s gay because he won’t let them rape me.
I’m content to let them argue, because the longer they argue, the less likely it is they’ll get around to doing anything about it.
Then, a pair of headlights appear. Mike notices them and spits on the floor with a curse. “Well now there ain’t time. Good fuckin’ job, Tony, you fuckin’ pussy.”
The others take turns shoving Tony around, insulting him until he looks so angry I think he’s half-likely to pull his gun and shoot them. I wish he would—it’d make my life easier.
The headlights pull to a stop next to the Suburban. A pair of boots descends from the driver’s seat, and I recognize the lanky swaggering figure even in silhouette: my father.
My blood turns to ice with equal portions of terror and rage. I steel myself. I’m not afraid of him anymore.
The passenger door opens, and I recognize this outline as well: Jerry.
They amble unhurriedly into the barn, and the lackeys fall silent. My father swaggers up to me, eyes like chips of granite. He’s dressed in all camo, with high tan boots laced up tight and his cuffs tucked inside them. He wears a thick black belt hung with a pistol, a huge knife, spare magazines, a massive flashlight, and a walkie-talkie. A curly cord runs up his back to an earpiece in his right ear. He’s wearing black gloves with hard plastic on the knuckles.
“Thought you could get away from me, did you?” He spits, his voice low, like the warning rattle of a rattlesnake’s tail.
I refuse to look up at him.
“Look at me, girl.”
I ignore him.
“I saidlook at me!” he roars.
I ignore him.
His fist blasts against my cheek, rocking me to the side and throwing me to the dirt; my wrists almost come unwrapped, but I manage to keep the cord in place as I lay in the dirt at his feet.
Blood trickles down my chin from my split lip.
I feel him kneel next to me. “I told you to look at me, Naomi. You better start listenin’, or it’ll go a lot fuckin’ worse for you.”
He grabs me by the chin and forcibly twists my neck up to face him. I train my eyes over his shoulder. He switches his grip so he’s clutching my entire jaw in his fist, grinding bone on bone; it’s pure agony, but I resolutely refuse to show pain, to let his eyes meet mine.
“I was gonna see about gettin’ rid of Jerry,” he murmurs, so quietly only I can hear him. “But if you won’t obey me, I’ll just give you right back to him.” He grins down at me. “And you oughta know, he’s told me what he plans to do to you to punish you, and girl…it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
I can imagine—in fact, I don’t need to imagine. Anything they can think of, they’ve already done to me.
