A Man of His Words
Chapter Six: Heinous
Doc sat in her wooden chair, heavy in thought. She had suggested for us to take a break before moving forward in the story. The beginning of my splendid fairy tale had begun about eight o'clock in the morning, and Doc had kept me company so far for three hours. I wondered if Doc had some trouble computing the information that I had given her since our last break in the timeline. Doc withdrew her glasses, pinched the bridge of her nose, and observed her very full note pad. I had taken to lying on the bed on my back at the foot of the bed.
"So," she sighed. "He kept you in this cabin for a year."
"Yes," I answered. "A whole year."
"Do you think that the kiss was your decision, or was it his?"
"By all accounts, it was my decision; he did tell me that I could improvise."
"Okay, but he threatened to let his goons attack you if you didn't cooperate."
I scoffed, "Doc, I don't recall saying those words."
"Perhaps, you remembered it wrong...?"
"I have an eidetic memory; I don't remember anything wrong," I corrected her. I turned my face to the side of the mattress to gaze at her. "I might have thought that the idea of kissing him was not exactly what I wanted at the time—"
"That's coercion," Doc remarked, clapping her hands together.
"He could have hurt me instead."
"Costlee, you are minimizing his actions to look like acts of mercy. He didn't have to kidnap you."
"That's right, he didn't have to. He could have killed me."
"They're both acts of violence," said Doc coherently, as if to drive home that statement as she had tried to do since we started these sessions, to prove to me that Boss was a monster; but she was wrong. He wasn't like those people in prison who absent-mindedly slaughtered women and children for fun. Boss did everything for a reason.
I didn't say anything in return, I merely laid there on the bed, just waiting for her to permit me to continue telling the story. I wasn't really interested in her diagnosis. It was she who wanted to hear my tale.
I lifted my legs to set them comfortably on the wall. Doc wrote a few things down on her notepad, the sound of her pen scratching being the only sound in the room until she looked up at me.
"When," she finally asked, "did he actually show you how dangerous he could be?"
"A few days after I arrived at the cabin." I answered her. "He would come in and out of the cabin to check on me. He'd stay for a couple of hours, sometimes to toy with me. He wouldn't tell me why I was there, just that it was safer than anywhere else."
"In retrospect, do you think that he kept you from being hurt by the mob because of your father's involvement?"
"I suppose, but like I said: I wasn't really a threat to any of them. My part was small at the bank, just overlooked their discrepancies in their finances..."
Doc nodded. She tapped her pen against her bottom lip thoughtfully. I waited. She looked pressed for a second, so I decided to help along her train of thought, as it seemed to weigh heavy on her mind.
"You can go ahead and ask me whatever you're thinking, Doc."
"Costlee, when was the first time that you saw him become violent?"
"At the vault, when he killed Chuck."
"No, no, I mean while you were in the cabin."
"A little while after I got there."
"What happened to make him become violent toward you?" she asked.
An intrigued look appeared on her face.
"Was he not violent toward you?"
"Not at first," I answered. "But the first time that I ever saw him angry, it wasn't because of what I did."
"Who angered him, Costlee?"
"One of his guards in charge, Gruff."
"What did he do?"
Three days had passed, and all I knew was that if I kept up the charade that Boss and I were involved, it worked in my favor. Gruff and Blue didn't try anything, let alone say anything creepy or inappropriate to me when I went to the kitchen or sat in the living room to read a book. The radio only worked on certain stations; to my knowledge, that was Boss's intentions so I wouldn't hear anything on the news. So the stations that worked were classical music, country, and one of those stations that would talk about nonsense like "What is your favorite horror movie?" or "What is the weirdest riddle that you've ever heard?"
I didn't talk to the guards, in fear that anything I would say would be an invitation. I ignored them the best that I could, but I made sure never to turn my back on them. I either sat at the kitchen table with my back to the refrigerator where I could see the house in full view or I sat in an armchair so the boys wouldn't try to slide right next to me.
Hours of vigilantism would bundle my nerves so tight; by the time that Boss would come 'home' to check on my well-being, I'd have realized that it had been hours that my stomach had been clenched.
When Boss would stay overnight, he slept in the living room or in the guest bedroom. Though, in order to keep up the charade, I was convinced that a few pecks on the cheek would suffice. But Boss never slept with me in my bedroom; nor did he ever try to touch me. Though, if he wished it, I imagined that he could overpower me with ease, as he was much stronger than I was—and I thought that if he ever tried, it would have been in my best interest to just let him.
Honestly, if my choice was between Boss or Gruff to come to my bed, it would have been Boss. It made sense to me in that nature.
Night had settled in around the countryside, and there wasn't a moon or stars in the sky. The room was exceptionally dark without them. Boss had went to the guest room after pecking me on the cheek ("'Night, Kitten," he had whispered to me under his breath), so I decided it was best for me to slide into my bedroom before the guards got any bright ideas.
When I entered my bedroom, I made to close the door. Before I could close it all the way, a rough hand pushed open the door and shoved me inside, and I heard the door close with a solid thud.
"Heeey, girlie."
Although it was dark, I knew that it was Gruff who had entered my bedroom. Even his voice was repulsive and disgusting. That's against the rules.
"You're not supposed to be in here," I said coldly, and I was pleased to hear my voice hard and offensive instead of full of fear as I actually was.
"Yeah, yeah," Gruff waved me away. "Listen, girlie, I got a question. Why go for someone like Joker, eh? What's he got that I don't got? I mean," he chuckled like an old-fashioned mobster from the movies, "the guy wears makeup."
I stared at him from across the bedroom. His footsteps were unbalanced; I could hear the wood under his feet creak, which was the only way I knew where to keep away. He was a big guy after all: lots of weight, lots of noise.
"He's kind of calling the shots, isn't he?" I remarked sarcastically.
"Yeah, well, you know what I'm thinking?"
"I have a pretty good idea," I whispered, and I hated the fact that the hard exterior which I had spoken with before faltered. The brief image of a large pot belly slapping against me made me cringe, which could be an actuality unless either I managed to escape my room or if he was intercepted somehow.
"Do ya, girlie?" Gruff chuckled. "Well, see, honey pot, I hear you gotta pretty big brain. Good with numbers. You know, I have a pretty big brain, but it ain't sitting on my shoulders."
Disgusting. I hoped that Boss would be able to hear voices in my bedroom. But I didn't hear any movement next door.
"I actually don't have a big brain like people say," I admitted. "Not really a high IQ at all, really."
"Yeah, but you got a really pretty face." Gruff commented.
"Thank...Thank you..." I said quietly.
"How about you..." I heard him unzip his pants. "...thank me some other way, yeah?"
"A compliment doesn't necessarily mean that you get anything in return, buddy." I remarked.
Okay, really, Costlee, do you have to be self-righteous now?
"You got some nerve talking to me like that." Gruff said.
I heard his footsteps approach me.
"I think I know why Boss likes you so much."
"You really shouldn't be in my room," I said.
Unfortunately, his size meant nothing about his speed; for within seconds, the creaking footsteps across the room bounded inches in front of me. I smelled whiskey on his breath (That explains a lot) and one of his greasy, large hands found the front of my nightgown, grabbing a fistful of the material and pulled it, pulling me closer to him.
"You smell pretty good, like flowers."
I felt anxiety tangle in my stomach, but I felt the hairs on my neck stand up, crinkling brutally in the crane of jugular. I felt fury begin to bottle. His hands were calloused, rough like sandpaper.
I slapped him across the face. Hard. SMACK!
He gasped in shock, I don't think that I hurt him at all. The effort knocked him back a step, releasing my nightgown. His silhouette in the dark room looked as if he were rubbing his face.
"Wow, you got some fire in you."
"Get away from me." With every word, my anxiety lifted; and instead, I just felt rage. "Now."
"Well, I guess we could play a little bit of foreplay. Ain't that what you bitches be complaining about when you're about to get laid—"
"Don't touch me—!"
Then when I thought that this was exactly was going to happen, the door burst open.
Boss came barging in. Gruff called out an excuse to be in the room, but it made no difference. The large hand that had a hold of my nightgown pulled away when Boss grabbed Gruff by the neck of his collar and threw him to floor, dragging his body guard across the floor out of the bedroom and into the living room. I wasn't sure what Boss said, but I knew that whatever he growled was foul-tempered, for even as Boss dragged him away, I heard Gruff calling "I didn't—I swear to God—Boss, I didn't even harm a hair on her head—Please!"
I followed after them, actually quite curious and yet gratified. I didn't know if I wanted to see Gruff's punishment or maybe to tell Boss that he actually, technically, hadn't done anything to terrible to me, to maybe spare him—but who was I to argue with Boss?
He was a man of his word.
I crossed the hallway and entered the living room, putting the back of couch between me and the sight that unfolded before me. Behind me, Blue came out of the kitchen, cluelessly rounding the kitchen table to try to figure out exactly what the hell was going on. It couldn't have been as late as three o'clock in the morning. Blue was in his pajamas; he might have been the smarter of the two guards—Blue had been sleeping.
Within a flash, Boss withdrew his pocket knife from his trouser pocket. Even underneath his smudged makeup, I could tell that he looked angry. His features were highlighted by the table lamp on the coffee table. I tell you: I was glad that I was not in Gruff's position.
Gruff whimpered as Boss put him to his knees, holding the back of his neck with one hand, and the other holding the knife to Gruff's large neck. I didn't hear Boss say anything, which made me believe the threat was self-explanatory: I caught you.
I found myself in awe of his deliberate actions. Gruff began to blubber some horrified pleas of mercy. Boss placed his pocket knife against the edge of Gruff's mouth. This must have been his signature move.
"I didn't...I didn't..." Gruff breathed through panicked breaths.
I almost wanted to advise the idiot to shut the fuck up; I knew personally that not one part of me wanted to speak when Boss held a knife that close to my lips. Hell. No. Why would you even speak with something that sharp so close? And why, why, would you want to try to rouse your attacker even further by straight up denying that you tried to hurt anybody?
Look, he could deny raping me; but he couldn't deny the fact that he was in my room.
Boss chuckled darkly, a stream of laughter that echoed throughout the log cabin. It sent shivers down my spine, and yet, the mannerism itself intrigued me.
"Oh, my god, Marcus, what did you do?" Blue called out in horror from behind me.
Boss finally spoke words that I could hear, and they were laced with poison.
"Go on, Marcus," he said. "Tell your buddy what you did."
"I...I went into the girl's room..." Marcus 'Gruff' answered shakily. "I went in there. Look, boss, I—"
"Ah, ta-ta-ta..." Boss warned Gruff not to say more than what was warranted, his knife quivering against Gruff's neck. Even in the dim light, I noticed spots of blood dribbling down his throat. Boss nicked him.
I wasn't afraid. I was captivated.
Blue steadied his footing behind me, and at first, it looked as if he would try to rescue his friend from an inevitable fate. Yet, he did the smart thing and restrained himself. Blue looked at me, in a way which hoped that I would ask my alleged lover to halt the execution. I gave no such look that confirmed his request.
Boss glanced at me.
"Well, kitten?" he said to me. "What did he do?"
I wasn't exactly sure what to say, so instead, I wrapped the front of nightgown into my hand as Gruff had done when he had reached for me.
Boss sighed. He turned back to Gruff.
"Now, see, that," his face darkened with his own words, "is a problem."
Gruff tried to make his case, "But, boss, she asked me to help her inside her room—"
"Look how disgusted she is. Now, see, hey, hey, hey, listen," Boss tapped his face with the knife when Gruff began to rebuttal the argument. "Now, I heard you in her bedroom. Then I heard what was very likely a slap. You must have said something so repulsive that it made a timid, shaky leaf like that become very, very angry. Look at her face, Marcus, LOOK!"
Gruff held his hands up in surrender. I actually couldn't blame Gruff. I never heard Boss so outraged by one his men. Even when Chuck broke the rules, all Boss did was pull the trigger.
"Okay," Gruff resigned, nodding furiously. "Okay, okay, okay. I might have threatened her, but I—"
Boss finished for him, "Waited until I disappeared to sneak off into her bedroom to play hanky panky?"
Gruff shook his head wildly, but he stopped moving when Boss placed the blade in his mouth.
For a long pause, they just stood there like that. I steadied my fingers along the back of the couch, waiting in anticipation to see what he would do.
Blue spoke quietly, "Boss, maybe Marcus will be better if you let him live. C'mon, he looks like he learned his lesson. R-Right, Marcus?"
Jesus, how long had they actually been friends before this?
"All right, bunny," said Boss, as if he had finally come to a conclusion after a silent argument in his head. "Your decision."
I stared at him.
"What?" I asked. Are you serious?
"Let him live or let him die?" Boss said casually, as if it was a question about where to order take-out.
I would have instantly answered 'Live', but two questions posed prominently in my brain: #1 If he let Gruff live, would the guard act again on his impulses and come better prepared to assault me (like with duct tape and some rope so I couldn't fight or escape?); or #2 And this, particularly was actually the most imposing question: if Boss let him live, I couldn't see any way that he would benefit from it. Boss had repeated the repercussions before: Whichever decision I agreed upon, either one would benefit from him.
"Well?" Boss became impatient.
"Let him live." I said quietly.
"Really?" Boss seemed both surprised and amused, even, by my words.
Gruff looked relieved. But he and I both could see Boss's mouth curve into a malicious smile.
Boss rose to his feet, "So noble," he said.
When he got to his feet, he then held his hand out for me to take the knife.
"What is this?" I asked.
"You said you wanted me to let him live, so I did." Boss shrugged, as if to represent that this was exactly what I meant.
I took the knife from him, and I thought that this well good and over.
"You're not." Boss growled. "Kill him."
Gruff's eyes widened like sand dollars, staring at us in front of him.
"What?" I was as surprised as he was.
"Make it fast." Boss told me, stepping aside. He gestured for me to walk around the couch; so I did. He pointed to Gruff. "Not too fast, though: there's a reason why I like to use knives."
"I'm not sure if I can to do this." I confessed. "I...don't want to."
"Oh, this would be your first, hm?" he said with a craving, almost envious of this rite of passage. "Well, everyone's gotta start somewhere."
Boss approached me, standing in front of Gruff to obscure the idea of killing him. The kidnapper looked into my eyes. I didn't want to disappoint Boss (or should he feel a bit frisky, decide that I should die instead). I just stood there with his knife in my hand, amateurishly holding it with my sweaty palm.
Even as I stood there, I thought of how the events would pan out. Gruff probably would try to hurt me after this, if not worse than what he intended tonight. No, I didn't want to kill him. But I didn't want any backlash for this either. So I stood there in front of Boss, hating myself for the lack I had to do what was necessary.
"You wanted me to kill him, didn't you?" Boss read my expression to the exact thought. His voice was oddly consolingly. It made me feel weirdly better.
"If I'm being honest," I shrugged, looking at Gruff distastefully, "I still do."
"Mhm," Boss purred. "Now, that's interesting."
The moment felt different. That was interesting. Boss took a step toward me. His fingers unraveled my clenched fist around the knife, gently taking the blade from me—Thank God—and the entire time, his eyes never left mine. If they hadn't been masked with malice, his gaze might have been as if to comfort a lover.
His fingers pinched my chin fondly, as if I said something that he really liked.
"Is that what you want, kitten?" Boss asked me, raising my chin so he could read my face in a better light. He might as well have asked me if I wanted a fancy car at a dealership. "Do you want me to kill him?"
I should have felt scared. Perhaps I should say 'No'.
Boss leaned in, his lips caressing the flesh of my ear lobe, and voice rolled off the words like molten silver; something in his voice made my neck burn—the sensation ran down my spine and met between my legs. That was interesting. What...is happening?
"Is that what you want, kitten?"
That much power in my hands with one word. I couldn't refuse.
"Say the word, and I'll do it. Whatever will please you the most...This is your choice."
He pulled away from me, waiting for my answer.
Blue stood in the kitchen, bated with both fear and anticipation; Gruff—I could practically hear him coming apart from the seams with the build-up of suspense that could cost him his life. Everyone's actions laid in the balance of my say-so.
"Do it." I told Boss concisely, and I was mildly alarmed at how hoarse my voice sounded coming out of my throat. Was I aroused?!
Boss sighed, as if it that was the pinnacle of pleasure; then he turned around, his back to me. He tossed the knife in his hand, grasped the handle, and Boss knelt down. Gruff still attempted a plea, but Boss placed the knife in his mouth.
"You heard the lady," Boss said.
Gruff let out a chilling scream that filled the room, then he made no noise at all.