Dzuy reached his hand into Jo’s lap and she took it in her hand. “I think we just set a record for the quickest relationship ever.”
Jo laughed a little with him. “Maybe. It just feels right, though.”
Chapter 18
Something doesn’t feel right, Omar thought as he sat in the kitchen of a three bedroom, three bath, one story home on a large lot twenty minutes east of San Diego. He left the food and money on the cheap plastic table in the kitchen and walked to the guest bathroom in the middle of the house.
He unlocked it and opened the door to see the outline of his drug-dealing rapist lying in the bathtub. Omar flicked on the light and saw the whites of the man’s eyes pop with terror.
“I’m ready to have a conversation with you so I’m going to take that gag off you. You scream, I kill you. You bite, I kill you. Understand?”
The man nodded.
Omar pulled a little switch blade knife from his pocket and wiggled it flat against the man’s cheek, turned it sideways and pulled hard until the cloth finally gave. He pulled so hard he nearly cut himself when the knife broke through.
Omar took a step back from the tub, closed the toilet seat lid, and sat down on it, while staring at his captive. “I’m going to offer you a deal. You’re going to answer some questions first. If I think you’re lying, I’ll kill you. Okay?”
The man nodded.
“How much rope you got left?”
His body tensed. “Maybe twenty pills.”
“How much they cost?” Omar asked, slowly rotating the knife in his hands.
“Five bucks.”
“How do they work?”
The man inhaled deeply. “Like a strong sleeping pill. Some people take them just for fun. Sometimes people use them with coke or crack to calm the high. You give someone a few and mix it with alcohol, they’ll pass out and probably won’t remember anything that happened.”
“You rape my cousin?”
“No, sir.”
“You give her rope?”
He nodded. “Yes. She and I split one. I had half, too.”
Omar stared intently at him. “You know how old she is?”
“Twenty, twenty-one?”
“Sixteen.” Omar lied about her age to see his reaction.
“She was at a bar. I thought she might be young, but not a kid. I swear I didn’t know. I got called to join the party and I did. We clicked I thought we were just having… fun.” The man started to sob.
“I kind of believe you. But I believe my cousin. She said you drugged her and had sex with her.”
Exhausted, dehydrated and defeated, the man whimpered, “She’s right. But it wasn’t rape. We started before the drugs could even kick in.”
“How long they take to kick in?”
“Ten, fifteen minutes. A little longer because we did coke first.”
Omar gently scratched at his face with his knife. “Let’s say I believe you. And I believe her. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding. But how’s it going to look if you’re back out on the streets after hurting my family? How’s it going to look if I do nothing?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to die. I’ll do whatever you want.”
Omar scanned down the man’s body and stopped at a wet spot on his crotch. “Two days and you barely pissed yourself. You thirsty?”
“Yeah.”
“Your last answer. You’ll do whatever I want. I think you earned a drink.” Omar stood, reached into his pocket and pulled out a key to the handcuffs. He unlocked them and removed them, then threw them under the sink.
The man looked at Omar with fear and hope as Omar walked out of the bathroom, leaving his legs cuffed together to a metal handicap shower bar just above the tub.
Omar returned with the bottle of water and two bottles of beer. He tossed the water to the man. The man caught it, wrestled with the cap, and chugged the whole bottle down, pausing only to take two breaths.
“Cerveza?” Omar asked, holding up a Pacifico Light.
“Please,” he responded with a nod.
Omar used his knife to pop the top off the bottle, then handed it to the man. “You might think that’s a weapon and gives you a chance. Nothing would make me happier than you trying something. That would make my decision of what to do with you a lot easier. Just so you know, I think I might see a way for you to get out of this alive.”
“Mr. Omar, I’ll do whatever you want. Thank you for the beer. For your trusting me to have a bottle.”
Omar popped the cap off his bottle with his knife and took a swig. “Try it.”
The man took a big gulp. He nearly started crying. “Best beer I’ve ever had.”
“You ever have one of these before?”
“I think in Cabo. Never seen one here before.”
Omar looked at the bottle. “You can only get Light in Mexico. Pacifico Claro you can get anywhere. I have to have people bring one case at a time across the border, legally, so I can sell them. You see, when there’s something I want, I can be very patient to get it. If we cut a deal and you back out. If you go to the police. If you run. Might take a while. But I’ll catch up to you. It’s what I do.”
“If we make a deal, I’m all in on it. I won’t back out.” He took another gulp of his beer.
Omar picked up the wallet on the sink and pulled out the driver’s license. He took out his cell phone and took a picture of it. “I have your name and address. I can run a skip trace and get the names and addresses of your relatives. If it takes me a while to find you, I’ll find them first.”
“You won’t have to.”
Omar took a gulp of his beer. “So let me tell you what I’m thinking our deal is. One, you go get all the rope you got and bring it to me immediately and don’t sell any more shit that can be used to rape people. Two, I take a percent of everything you earn until you pay my cousin fifty. Three, you get a sling and wear it on your arm for a couple weeks.”
“Why do I need a sling for my arm?”
“I’m planning on breaking it.”
The man took another swig from his beer. “I’d like to avoid ‘three’ if possible. ‘One’ is easy. ‘Two,’ it will take me a while to make that much cash. In a good month I bring in five or six. Bad month, two or three. I can give whatever I pull in each month? If possible, I’d really like to keep my arms from being broken.”
Omar curled half lips and scratched at his chin. “That’s a reasonable offer. Let’s finish negotiating over dinner.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We’re the same age, don’t call me sir.”
“Okay, Mr. Omar.”
Omar tossed the handcuff keys next to the tub, within the man’s reach. “You stink. I’ll turn the water back on and get you some clothes and a towel. Rinse off, then meet me in the kitchen for dinner.” Omar saw that the keys were within reach and left the bathroom.
The man eyed the keys. His hand trembled with excitement and nervousness as he reached for them. With shaky hands he unlocked and removed the shackles, tossing them where Omar put the handcuffs. He grimaced in pain as he used his muscles for the first time in two days. He pulled against the metal bar that had chained him to the tub to help him stand. Unsteady on his feet, he peeled off his wet blue jeans and underwear. He pulled off his tee shirt and tossed all his clothing on the floor.
The pipes hissed and gurgled as air gushed out of the faucet. Then, finally, water. He closed the clear shower curtain and felt the cool water run over his feet. He squatted down and bent over, stressing his muscles to their full extent, to get a handful of water. He drank it, then used the bar to help him stand upright.
After an adjustment of the knobs the water temperature was just right. He reached down, pulled a level and felt the warm water spray over him. It felt so good he started to cry. Between sobs he would let his mouth fill with the warm water and drink it. With the beer, water, and blood flowing again he could feel a tiny bit of strength returning to him.
The man knew
the word on the street was that Omar’s word was his bond. And despite his small stature, Omar was known to be one of the scrappiest and toughest people out there. His chances of overtaking Omar while this weak were a lot worse than cutting a deal.
The man felt a presence and looked through the clear shower curtain to see Omar putting a stack of something on top of the closed toilet.
Omar picked a towel up from the stack and set it on the sink, closer to the man, leaving a pair of sweat pants and tee shirt on top of the toilet.
Omar walked through the dark home, with only light in the house coming from the bathroom and the overhead florescent lights in the outdated kitchen. He looked around. No knives in sight, no heavy pans. The only potential weapon would be the shackles the man had and they wouldn’t be very effective for anything but choking.
Omar looked at the time on his cell phone. He was still trying to puzzle out how he would locate one of the Salazar guys to plant the knife when the man approached, wearing the over-sized sweat pants and tee shirt. Omar pointed to a foil wrapped burrito on the table. “Hungry?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” The man grimaced in pain as he sat down.
Omar watched the man eye the wrapped food. “Go ahead and eat.”
He unwrapped his burrito and bit into it. Chewing with a full mouth he said, “So good. Thank you.”
Omar exhaled hard. “Look. I’m sorry I kept you so long. I believe you honestly thought things with my cousin were cool. I also believe she thought different. So if it was an honest mistake, I might have gone too far. If it was rape, I didn’t go far enough. I’m just trying to do right by my family.”
The man swallowed.
Omar nodded at the burrito for him to keep eating. “So here’s my offer. Get me all your rope, right now and stop selling rape drugs. Pay me ten percent of whatever you make each month until you hit fifty back, which will go to my cousin. No broken arm.”
“Okay.”
“And since you’re on a payment plan to me, if anyone gets in your way of earning, you let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
The man pulled his mouth away before tearing off another bite. “You’re offering protection?”
“Yeah. I think it’s time I expand my business.”
“Thank you, Mr. Omar.”
“Just Omar. We’re in business now.”
Chapter 19
Cassie lay against the stack of pillows on her bed as she thought about what to type next in an instant message chat. [Idk]
Three dots indicated the other person was typing. [I miss you a lot] was the message sent by Brad Gecina.
[U drunk?]
[Not yet]
Cassie stared at her laptop, thinking. Maybe it would be best for her on so many different levels to completely stay away from Brad. [With the restraining order and everything, shouldn’t you stop contacting me?]
[Do you miss me?]
Cassie sighed and looked at the alarm clock that had been wrapped around her neck a few months ago. [Of course I do. But I don’t think we should be talking with each other. It can’t be good for me. Or you]
[I know, but I want to talk about the chances of us getting our fresh start in Australia]
[Look Brad. I don’t think I’m moving anywhere with you. It wouldn’t be smart for me to do that. Maybe it would be best to keep a lot of distance between us]
[What are you talking about?]
[Maybe it’s just best if you don’t call or message me. We don’t see each other]
[WTF?]
Cassie partially closed the screen to take a break from the message. She knew Brad could go from charming and wonderful to angry and hurtful without a moment’s notice. She opened the laptop and saw three dots. Brad was typing more.
Instead of waiting to see more, Cassie opened a browser and searched for dog adoption. First thing tomorrow morning she was going to get a dog. Second thing tomorrow she was going to get a gun.
A moment later Cassie looked at what Brad had written.
[Seriously Cass. WTF? You said you would always care for me. You would always be there for me. Were you lying to me then? What happened?]
Cassie felt a little anger boiling up within her. [You don’t know what it’s like having a cord wrapped around your neck and getting pulled so hard it leaves a mark for days. You should be grateful I’m even talking to you. This is more stressful than you would imagine. If you don’t stop I might just turn this chat record over to the police]
[You wouldn’t dare. That would end you]
Cassie shivered. She wanted to backtrack. [This whole thing is just confusing. Let me deal with the lawsuit and get settled and then we can talk]
[Don’t be a bitch. I need to know where we stand]
[I don’t know. And if you call me a bitch or threaten me, then I can guarantee I’ll act like a bitch]
Three dots blinked for several minutes. Either Brad was writing her a treatise or he kept rewriting his message. [I only threatened you because you threatened me first. I want to see this thing through. To live happily ever after. But if you go nasty, I’ve got the video of you I can put out. You’ll never be able to walk that back]
Cassie felt trapped. She had so many good memories with Brad in this bedroom and a few awful ones. He could be so sweet and perfect or so terrible and cruel. She had to find a way to thread the needle, to keep him from releasing the tape and also stay away.
[After I get the settlement money you’ll get paid, once you delete the video. We can figure out any us later]
[Sounds fair sweetie. Thanks]
Cassie held her eyes closed for a moment. She was exhausted and hoped she would be able to actually fall asleep instead of stress out on the situation keeping her up. She typed, [I’m super tired. Going to sleep. We’ll talk more after my case settles and figure everything out]
[Okay. Sleep well. Goodnight]
[Goodnight]
She closed her laptop and set it on the nightstand next to her alarm clock. She tapped the light switch next to her bed and snuggled herself under the blanket, wishing she had never met Brad Gecina. Wishing she wasn’t so trapped.
Chapter 20
Jo and Dzuy knocked on the door to Stacey’s two-bedroom apartment. It was opened by a blond woman with puffy eyes, wearing fleece sweatpants, a cotton sweatshirt, and large flannel slippers. “Thank you for coming. Sorry I’m such a mess.”
Dzuy hugged her. “Of course.” At the embrace’s end Dzuy said, “This is Jo.” He picked up the heavy bag of food that Jo had just set down and brought it into the house with him.
Jo hugged Stacey. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Jo.” Stacey closed the door. “It’s nice to see that Dzuy found such a sweetheart.”
“Thanks.”
Jo took her shoes off out of habit and walked down the hardwood floor of the modern open-concept apartment. The living space had a white fabric couch and matching recliner, flat screen TV on the wall, a small, dark, heavy wooden round table with four chairs, and was separated from the kitchen only by a granite countertop with a sink. Three bar stools sat on the living room side of the kitchen counter.
Jo noticed the television show ‘Friends’ was playing at soft volume. A laptop and cell phone were on top of a red fleece blanket.
“It sounds silly,” Stacey said to Jo, “but this show makes me think of my mom. We watched it together a lot. Seems like a rerun was always on whenever I was home for the holidays and we would sit on the couch. Talk and watch the show.”
“Sounds like a lovely memory, not silly at all,” Jo said as she approached and put her hand on Stacey’s shoulder. “Have you eaten anything yet today?”
She nodded. “Lunch. But I’m not really hungry yet.”
“You might not be for a while. If we make you a plate, will you eat a little?”
“Sure,” Stacey walked to the couch to grab her phone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m getting a lot of texts and calls that I might have to answe
r.”
Jo nodded and walked around the kitchen counter to help Dzuy make plates of food for them.
Dzuy asked, “Stace, what do you want to drink?”
Stacey didn’t respond. She was staring down at her slippers.
On the third cabinet that Dzuy opened, he found glasses. He called out a touch louder, “Stace, what can I get you to drink?”
Stacey looked up at him. “Uh, water’s fine. Uh, I think I have some cokes in the fridge and we have some wine over there.”
“Stacey, do you want a bit of everything?” Jo asked.
“Uh, sure. Just a little.”
Jo scooped out small portions of all the dishes for herself and Stacey onto two plates and brought them to the table. Dzuy brought the water glasses over, then made his plate with lasagna and pasta.
Dzuy and Stacey picked at their plates in silent sadness. Jo took small bites in solidarity with them. “I’ve lived here all my life and never tried this place before. It’s fantastic. Do you guys like it?”
“Uh huh,” Dzuy said with a nod.
“Yes. Thank you for getting it,” Stacey said, as she pushed a piece of tortellini around on her plate.
Jo joined them in silence, a faint laugh track from the television seemed particularly ill timed for the moment. As Jo was about to make another attempt at small talk, she heard her phone ringing in her purse. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she moved away from the table to get her phone.
It was Jo’s work line. “I’m so sorry, but this is a work call. Do you mind if I step out on your patio to take it?”
“No problem.”
“Law Office,” Jo said as she walked past the television and pulled open the sliding door to the small patio off the living area. Her sweater and jeans wouldn’t comfortably protect her from the chilly night for long.
“It’s Omar. Have time to answer a couple of questions for me?”
“I’m at a friend’s whose mother just passed. So only a few minutes. What’s up?”
“Sorry to hear someone passed. If anyone is having trouble sleeping, I just came into some really strong sleeping pills. If you need a few, I’m happy to help.”
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