by Sandra Raine
Since my return to my father's business I no longer frequent the sleazy motels, or clubs. I'm instead escorted to high-end resorts, upscale hotels and lavish parties. Sometimes I'll service one man a night, and other times I'll service several, depending on the occasion.
Occasionally I'll cross Tia and Bai either at a hotel, or at some party. Other time's I'll cross other girls I've yet to make the acquaintance of. Sometimes Chloe and I will work together side-by-side with different men, or engage with one another sexually depending on the party or the "John's" preference. And sometimes I'll take a beating, usually from Doug, whenever I stepped out of line, or said something that was out of context. Sometimes Tanya will tag along for show, or to aide me when I needed help with a bad situation, or just to touch me up with extra clothes, make-up and so on.
The tricks have gotten easier. The "John's" have become more bearable. And as a whore I couldn't complain. But occasionally I did cross one or two men who weren't as pleasant and I would have to endure their aggressiveness. . .And nobody cared to sympathize just as long as they we're getting their money. Dominic however, did care, but he wasn't allowed to express an emotion, or give an opinion. And when he did it was always in the privacy of my bedroom; gritting his teeth and swearing profusely at my father, at Doug, at Justin, at Bob Ray, at the world. I was starting to get the sense that Dominic was getting tired of being what he was. And I was also starting to sense that as long as I was forced to be who I was he felt he had no choice but to stay where he was - I wept for him.
When I'm not being social, cleaning, or working, my time is either spent spend locked in my bedroom completing homework since I was being home schooled, or just watching TV. I didn't have access to the internet since both my computer and laptop were confiscated by my father who feared the possibility of a discretion. I didn't listen to music as it tended to depress me. I didn't have a boyfriend, I didn't go out on dates, or hang out with friends. I did however, take up reading as a hobby which was kind of funny considering that in the past I hated to read. Now I was finishing seven-hundred page books within a day or two; I read constantly to loose myself in someone else's world, in someone else's pain just to escape mine.
Sometimes when a "John" is lying on top of me thrusting away all his perversities on me, maybe greed, some stress, or a bout of anger, I'll usually stare up at the ceiling and loose myself within one of the books I just read, or contemplate about what was to happen in the upcoming chapter and the chapter after that from a book I've yet to finish. Or sometimes I'll just close my eyes and think about Bree, and thanking God that it was me for the moment and not she.
The holidays had come and gone, and I was forced to endure them. First with Halloween: I took Bree Trick-O-Treating, then afterwards, I was escorted to a party where I was the "treat" and the men were the "tricks" - ironic. Thanksgiving was no better. We celebrated with the Ray's. And since Justin and Josh were just as "orphaned" as I was, they, too, celebrated the Thanksgiving with us. There was no work for me that night.
Christmas however, was a different story with my father and Bob Ray.
Bob Ray could no longer restrain himself from having me. I laid there like a freaking stiff the whole time he banged away on me. Afterwards, I remembered feeling far beyond shamed and dirty 'cause he was Dominic's father - I cried miserably for the next few days.
My father, along with my mother, took it upon themselves to buy me a brand new BMW for Christmas.
When they presented my gift to me Christmas morning I wasn't sure if I was supposed to thank my unlucky stars, or cry? Instead, I turned an ungrateful heel and walked out of the living room. It wasn't until later that morning when my father summoned me into his study. And when he began to interrogate my behavior toward the gift I honestly didn't know what he wanted me to say, and so I apologized.
"Your mother and I went to great lengths to get you this new car," my father surmised in great disappointment. "I mean, the least you could have done is looked appreciative. . .for your mother."
I remembered glowering at my father for trying to pin his disappointment on me. I wanted so bad to rip out his fucking tongue and gauge his eyes with my fingernails 'cause I had saw the gift as an insult, a spiteful slap to my face, and not necessarily a gift from the heart. I plotted to put a bat to it once everyone went to bed but the idea got tossed out the window when my father tossed Josh the keys and told him to take it back to the showroom. I was glad that my father decided otherwise 'cause the car would only pose as a constant reminder to all the men I was forced to fuck just to have it.
But come later that evening however, my "snubbing" had me summoned to the pool house with my father waiting.
I was a already nervous wreck when Josh escorted me into the semi darkness of the pool house where we both found my father sitting at the edge of the bed. I remembered my father and Josh exchanging nods prior to Josh letting go of my arm. And when I saw that Josh wasn't sticking around for our meeting, I began to worry.
Without saying a word my father stood to his feet, placed both hands on my shoulders, and slowly twirled me around to where I was now standing in front of the bed. My father then gave my shoulders a gentle nudge backwards 'til the backs of both my knees hit the bed. Almost immediately a wave of panic filtered over me. I knew just by the look in my father's eyes what his intentions were with me at that moment. I had seen that look in Dominic's eyes many times. And it was now that I was seeing it for the first time in my father's.
"I've come to the conclusion, Jane," my father spoke softly, unfastening his tie and his favored gold money symbol cuff links. "That the person who should have broken you down all along was me. I always thought Bob's concern when bringing any family member into any business was the breaking down part. While I viewed its importance, its significance as a rather repugnant tactic because he had enforced it upon Tanya and Dominic, it has taken me this long - unfortunately - to realize that he was right. Discipline," and his tone then marveled at the very use of the word 'discipline', "starts at home. Respect starts at home. Loyalty. . .starts at home. And it's painfully obvious you, sweetheart, have neither." By that point my father had already taken off his shirt and undershirt, and it was at that point when my body went completely numb with my insides ready to spew, my heart ready to jump from my chest. I had closed my eyes hard and made like this bad scene was nothing more but a bad dream and I'm to awaken at any moment. And when I did, when my eyes finally did open I realized that this bad dream was very much real.
I honestly didn't remember what had happened next. And I must've said something insulting even disrespectful to cause my father absolute rage. All I could remember was him pouncing on me as I recollected a glimpse of his eyes that were wide and wild and fierce and black as the night engulfing the pool house. I remembered feeling my father's usually soft hands turning into claws, ripping at my pajamas, tearing them into shreds until there had been nothing left but my naked body. I remembered screaming, yelling, kicking. I remembered punching away at my father's bare chest over and over and over again. And then somewhere within all my punching and pounding, one of my fists must've uncurled and caught him by surprise 'cause all of a sudden he raised a hand and belted me across the face. And when I tried to recompose myself from the massive hit, I then remembered it was too late. . .my father had thrust himself on top of me, forcing my thighs aggressively apart with his, and it was at that point that I didn't know what had hurt the most: A group of faceless, nameless men simultaneously raping me, or my very own father?
When it was all over, I remembered just lying there battered and naked with my face burning, my head throbbing, my tiny womb desecrated because my father had finally broken me down by breaking me in. I mean, what Dominic couldn't do. What Justin and Josh couldn't do. What Doug couldn't do. What all men paying to have sex with me couldn't do. . .my father did in less than fifteen minutes. It was unimaginably disturbing and terrifyingly incomprehensible. . .the power of a parent, that was.
For the next few days that followed I was like a Zombie. I possessed no recollection of who I was and what I did and I did not care. I was not Jane nor was I Diamond. I was broken, shattered, irreplaceable. . .I was nobody. I was just another acronym for the word "Hush".
Chapter 54
It's just after New Year's.
The last "John" thanks me for a wonderful time. I smiled, uttering, "You're welcome."
I slipped back into my red party dress and gold stilettos. I grabbed my purse from off the dresser and walked out of the bedroom and crossed to my father and Dominic who were patiently waiting. Outside the suite we were then joined by Bob Ray and Doug. I then settle back into the Bentley where I'm then driven back home.
It's after two in the morning. I can't sleep. I get up from my bed and peer out my bedroom door and find that the coast is clear. I walk out of my room thinking that if I bump into Josh I will simply tell him that I wanted a drink of fresh water instead of the usual tap water. I head downstairs and into the kitchen. I meant to turn on the light but I caught movement near the swimming pool. I crossed to the patio door in feline steps and stared out. Doug, Justin and Josh were lounging near the deep end, they were talking and smoking. I casually step away from the patio door and the kitchen lights suddenly turn on.
"Shit!" I muttered, apprehensively turning around only to find Bree standing at the kitchen's entrance yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Damn it, Breanna!" I scolded beneath my teeth. "You scared me!" I quietly complained, crossing to her.
"I'm sorry, Jane." Bree said as I picked her up from off the floor and settled her petite frame onto the counter. I jumped onto the counter beside her and Bree's eyes lit up. "Mom's going to get mad at you."
"Mom's asleep!" Bree giggled. "And besides," I said propping myself straight up on the counter, "it's good to stand on counters, too. Come!" I urged, holding my hand out to Bree. She eagerly takes it, and she, too, stands on the counter beside me. Barefoot and giggling like a couple of naughty school girls, Bree and I begin to walk around the counter until I get a big idea.
"Hey, Bree," I then said as my eyes trailed up one of the two chandelier shaped ceiling fans adorning the kitchen. Bree looks up at the chandelier closest to us. "Ever swung from one of those?"
Bree's eyes suddenly widen. First in awe then in shock from the mere idea of it. Swallowing her throat she then shakes her head. "Have you?" she asks breathless.
I shine her a devious smile. "No. But I'm going to try!"
"No, Jane!" Bree suddenly cried out when she saw my legs bending to jump, but it was too late.
"Woo hoo!" I exclaimed once my hands gripped the chandelier and I started to swing from it. My heart then started to pump real hard while the adrenaline in my veins began to flow fast. I guess the idea of being bad and doing something bad 'cause I wanted to be bad brought about a certain high; a high I had totally forgotten about until now.
I laughed and laughed and continued to swing back and forth while Bree giggled and stomped around on the counter chanting, "You look like a monkey, Jane! You look like a monkey!"
"Look, Bree!" I said touching the tips of my slippers to the edge of the counter where I held for a second before swinging back. The patio doors then swung open suddenly, and beneath the chandelier is where I heard the ceiling starting to crack.
"Oh shit!" I then yelled, thrusting myself off the chandelier and onto the kitchen's floor. And within a matter of seconds the ceiling and the chandelier come tumbling down making a loud crashing sound. Bree and I slapped both our hands over our mouths. Doug, Justin and Josh stared at the mess stunned while I couldn't help but to break down laughing.
"Dad's gonna kill us!" Bree then fretted through a trembling whisper. Her eyes were wide and full of comical fear.
"No he's not!" I argued, picking up Bree from off the counter and settling her gently onto her feet. "He's got to catch us first!" I winked, grabbing her hand and fleeing out the patio doors and onto the plush of our backyard which seemed endless before our eyes like a park nestled in a remote countryside.
From a far off distance we could hear our father pissing up a storm with our mother screaming, "JANE! Damn it!" from the top of her lungs.
And we didn't care, Bree and I, we just continued to run, and run, giggling and laughing like free little girls escaping all the horrors in the world. . .we run.
It was a good night.
I am a woman with a gun
dead end eyes,
severed reflections
beautiful, I am
cunning, you are
and wise we are not
I roll the dice
and cast your fate
with Heaven to greet you
at Hells gate
as I lie down here beside you
- blood cells spilling like diamonds -
I am reminded
that without my gun
I am just an ordinary woman -
disassembling
and that without your gun
you are nothing more
but an ordinary man -
dying
~ A Woman With A Gun
Devlin De La Chapa, 2014
May, 1996.
"Viktor, please! Please, I beg you. . .Take our daughter to America."
"Go home, Sissy!"
"Viktor, please. . .You promised!" Seventeen-year-old Sissy Young continued to plead as her clumsy footsteps on the uneven dock closely trailed Viktor Kasa's twenty-eight year old quick and steady ones. "You promised that you would take care of me and your daughter - "
"I know what I promised!" Viktor spat suddenly, halting Sissy in her trailing footsteps. "But now is not the time." he then eased his frustration to say while his eyes gazed uncertain at the tiny innocent body clinging to his lover's bosom. He could sense that his daughter was scared because her body trembled in spite of the warmth from her mother's tight embrace.
"I must go," Viktor added without giving Sissy or his love-child another self-conscious thought.
"But why, Viktor?" Sissy pressed, her tone filled with obvious confusion and absolute pain.
"My business has no place for you or Janie. And what I do I must do alone."
"Is it because you fear becoming like your mother?"2
Viktor's jaw clenched. And the once sincerity of his voice shifted to that of a ruthless and callous man. Sissy clearly read Viktor's expression and forced herself to take a couple of nervous steps back.
"Don't ever speak of that bitch again!?"
"I'm sorry, Vik. . .I didn't - "m
"Trust me, Sissy, when I say that you do not want a man like myself around you, much less our daughter."
"But. . .but you are a good man, Viktor. I mean, you loved me. You. . .you made love to me, remember?"
"Again, Sissy, go home." Viktor continued to contend even though his mind was still latched to her very last words. He remembered. He remembered because she was the only girl his body desired; the only girl he didn't look upon as profit. Sissy, by all accounts, was the only thing that made sense, that had purpose, value and meaning - Sissy was the only girl he vowed to never, ever hurt. But now that she stood there before him with their love-child clinging desperately to her blood red silk shawl he instantly became someone he himself couldn't trust. And he couldn't bare the innocence of his daughter's blood on his hands.
"I can't go home and face my father, Vik. Not with a child out of wedlock. He will kill me."
"I seriously doubt that he would do such a thing, Sissy. You're a young woman now. And with a child. If he can't understand then I suggest with the money I gave you last night that you leave, find your own way with Janie. In time, Sissy, when my mind has cleared and is no longer clouded by filth and profit, I will come back to you. I promise you."
"Boss, you need to come and take a look at this."
"What is it?" Viktor inquired long before he strolled into the bowels of his cargo ship. Once inside the drafty room his eyes then did a swift manifest count of the shi
ps human cargo. Satisfied, he then turned back to the man who requested his presence and waited for him to respond.
"Jimmy." the man then called onto Jimmy who was another crew man in long straggly blond hair harboring a thin build.
Viktor looked at Jimmy as he opened a nearby utility door. And there Viktor glimpsed the body of a small child with a blood red silk shawl wrapped around her body. Viktor, quite in shock himself then stepped toward the utility closet with his heart filling with rage and heartbreak.
"Oh, my God!" Viktor sighed out long and hard while trying to ingest Sissy's actions. "Jesus Christ!" he then muttered before reaching for his daughter and picking her up gently.
"Wow!" a voice said suddenly and peculiarly behind Viktor who abruptly turned around only to be met by one of his three partners, and who by all accounts, Viktor feared the most. "How did that end up here?"
"That," Viktor spat slamming the utility door with his foot, "is my daughter. And you better wipe that fucking grin of your face, Parker. This one is not for you. Understand?"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Andrew Parker declared with a hint of sarcasm rousing in his tone.
"Fucking animal!" Viktor spat before he shoved himself past Andrew, Jimmy and the other crew man. Viktor then took Janie up to his stateroom where he fed her and put her to bed.
Thirty-Two Hours Later.
There was total mayhem aboard Viktor's cargo ship after it docked thirty-two hours later at the Port of Los Angeles. Viktor had every one of his crew men scouring the ship for Janie who had disappeared from Viktor's stateroom. And because every man was so fixated on finding the one-year-old, it didn't occur to Viktor that Janie had been kidnapped until he summoned for Andrew.
