by Red Hammond
Divinity let out a howl and kicked at Liam with all she had, going like she was on a bicycle. He laughed and backed off, dropped his shorts and briefs. He was already hard, not much going on down there, but it was pulsing. It could do damage to an unwilling victim. Kick kick kick, until Liam grabbed one of her ankles, held her leg out straight. The other one wasn’t helping.
Hopper screamed at the top of his lungs. King Kong, Tarzan, everything he had in him, popping blood vessels in his face and pulling muscles all over.
Ivana jolted him with the Tazer again for a second, then climbed onto his bed and laid her body across his. Her lips to his ear. The soft voice saying, “I paid for the whole floor. And for privacy. Yell all you want.”
Liam had caught Divinity’s other leg. She squirmed but wasn’t getting anywhere, pretty much under the lighting guy’s control. She was crying. Hopper saw the tears and heard as she tried to catch her breath. Liam kneed his way up on the bed, both of D’s ankles held high, her body a right angle, as he settled in and pushed himself inside her.
“Ohgodnoohgodnonono, jesus, no.” Chattering. Frozen. Horrified. She closed her eyes tightly, opened them to find Hopper’s face, blue veined, red-cheeked, wrinkled in heartbreak. He told her he was sorry.
Liam made cowboy noises as he rode her, the girl going silent but biting her lip with every thrust. Hopper saw the blood roll out of her mouth and onto the sheets. “Just like the Yellow Rose of Tokyo.”
Ivana laughed. “She’s Korean.”
“She ain’t white is all I’m saying.”
“How’s it feel?”
“She’s loose, I tell you. The deeper the quicksand, you know?”
She filmed for a few more minutes, Liam doing his best poses. Divinity had seemed to fall into a fugue state, floating above her body. It was the best Hopper could hope for at that point—that she wasn’t suffering as much as she could be.
After Ivana put the camera down and disappeared from sight over his shoulder, Hopper felt the knife saw through the fabric of his khakis, Ivana not caring that she slit skin along the way, right up to the waistband. When she couldn’t rip them off, she said, “The hell with it,” and sawed the fabric off his ass.
“You think it’s bad what she went through? Knowing what I know about the little slut, she probably enjoyed it. Or, actually, she’s probably bored. More used to three-ways or toys. Liam, what can you do to spice things up?’
Like it was a script. He said, “How about up her ass?”
“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you give it a shot?”
Liam pulled out and dropped D’s legs. She pulled them far away from him, tried to get off the bed even though her hands were tied. Liam fingered her while he worked into a new position, got underneath her—her arms bent back painfully. She yelped and pleaded with Liam to let her go. Instead, he arranged her legs and started grunting, pushing.
Divinity’s mouth opened in an O of pure pain and then she clenched her teeth, “No no no no.”
That’s when Hopper felt something slide inside him
He hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t felt anything that sent lights off in his head like that since Clint had raped him. It was happening again. Except this time, it was bigger. And cold.
Ivana’s voice again. “Liam gave me a good idea. I figured we could do both of you at once. There must be a cuckold-rape-pegging-fetishist out there who’ll appreciate this.” She thrust deeper. “Get my point? I just shoved a glass dick inside you, strapped around my waist. When I’m done, it’s going to be covered with shit and blood, same as Liam’s dick. That’s when we switch—you suck his, she sucks mine. Until you both choke, goddamn it, because that’s what it’ll take for me to feel satisfied.”
Between waves of nausea and pain, Hopper said, “Don’t kill her, please. Don’t hurt her anymore.”
“You really care about her? I mean, really?”
“Let me see Yasmin take her out of here. Let her promise she’ll take her to a hospital. Do that, and you can do whatever you want with me.”
Ivana shoved again and Hopper literally felt his insides shredding. The woman laughed like a Russian agent from a Bond flick. “Quite an offer. Very noble of you. Let me think for few minutes.”
She fucked him slowly while she thought about it. He kept his eyes on Divinity, who had gone limp. For a second he was afraid she’d died of shock, but then he heard her moan, a sick sound.
Liam said, “Tell me you like it.”
She managed to say, “B…..burn in hell, faggot.”
“Your next stop, cunt.”
Ivana said, “Okay, I thought about it.”
Hopper didn’t hold out any hope.
“Not interested. It’s more fun this way. Hey, Liam, ready to switch?”
“Hold on.” He pulled himself out from under her, held his half-erect cock. A nasty grin. “Okay, boy. It’s snack time.”
Someone banged hard on the hotel door. Almost like they were slamming against it.
Liam covered himself like a scared kid and tripped while grabbing at his clothes. Hopper looked back to see Ivana standing naked except for the strap on, hands on her hips.
“The fuck’s this? Cops?”
More banging.
Hopper lost sight. Heard Ivana say, “No, don’t do—”
Then Yasmin saying, “You’re not the boss of me!”
The door opened. A wild-ass scuffle. The camera flew into the opposite corner, disintegrating against the wall. Liam shrieked. A cracking sound. He landed on the floor cradling his arm and calling out, “Son of a bitch! Help me.”
Ivana finally came back into view, this time being held tippy-toed off the ground with big hands around her neck. Gary’s hands. Then the guy who broke Liam’s arm came into view, began untying Divinity. It was Ernie Depp. Even in a leg cast and on crutches, he was brutally effective. When Divinity’s hands were free, he whistled at Yasmin and she threw him a towel. He covered D with it and told her, “It’s okay now. You’re going to be okay.”
Gary dropped Ivana, who had blacked out. He and Ernie went to work on Hopper’s knots, making quick work of them, then helped him up.
“You all right?”
Hopper’s ass throbbed. He was sure something was ruptured. His muscles ached and twitched from the Tazer. His wrists and ankles were sprained, swelling purple. He didn’t care about his own pain. All of his attention was focused on his assistant, curled into a shivering ball on the opposite bed, trying desperately to cover her whole body with the towel. Her eyes stared straight ahead, not registering Hopper or the defeated rapists or Yasmin making herself small in the far corner.
“I’m fine,” Hopper said.
“You need a hospital.”
“In a little while.” He stood, nearly lost his balance, then bent over Liam, still whimpering, pressing his arms against his torso. “Let me see it.”
Liam was a blank for a second. Hopper reached for the man’s arm, and Liam let him examine it. It was fractured, no doubt about it. Hopper eased it down and asked, “Your other arm is fine, though, right?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Just fine.”
Hopper took the man’s good arm and twisted, pinned it behind Liam’s back and wrenched it far up, the screams intensifying while Gary and Ernie tried to pry Hopper off the skinny bastard’s body. Useless. Hopper kept pushing, pushing, tighter and tighter, until the arm gave way with a wet skrunch and fell like a noodle, Liam now helpless, his pain a bird-call, repeated over and over, facedown on the carpet.
Ernie said, “Jesus, Hopper.”
“He raped her. Tortured. He deserves worse.”
“Let us worry about it, all right?”
Hopper was coming back to earth, realizing that these two guys shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be the cavalry. “I don’t get it.”
“I owe you an apology. About Burt. I thought, you know, you were in on his disappearance, but I was wrong.”
Really? But…
“He killed hims
elf. Left a note and everything. Drove to a gator farm and jumped in. Nothing left of him.”
Hopper had no idea how Villeponteaux managed to pull that one off. He was afraid he’d end up finding out, too.
“Then Ivana called Yasmin, told her to be on the lookout for you. I guess you’d already found her. When Ivana knew that, she was on the next plane, telling the Weedgardners you were from the government, trying to infiltrate his business undercover. That’s how she got to borrow your little pussy boy over here.” He nodded at Liam.
“But how did you find out about this?”
“Soon as Yasmin hung up with Ivana, she called Gary. They’ve always been pretty close. Gary vouched for you, and since Yasmin was afraid of what Ivana had planned, Gary and I grabbed a plane, and here we are.”
Half hearing the words, eyes on Divinity, thinking that whatever else this was, it was too late. He mumbled, “Thanks.”
Ivana and Liam were bound, wrists and ankles, with duct tape. Mouths taped shut, too. Gary put them in the bathroom, arms taped to the shower rod, facing away from each other. Liam’s broken arms made it ungodly painful—searing. He passed out. Ivana might break free, but it would take a long time.
Divinity was sitting up, Hopper beside her, acting as guard dog, while she sipped water.
“You need to go to the ER,” Hopper said to her.
She shook her head, then nodded. A whisper. “That’s okay.”
“We’ll make up a story if you’re worried about it. Fake names. You need attention, though.”
“No.” Firm, final. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “I want to go home.”
Gary and Yasmin clung to each other like she’d been away at war while he kept the home fires burning. A lot of hand-holding and face-feeling and murmurs and whispers. Hopper had given up on convincing Yasmin to go back to New Orleans. Maybe Gary would succeed with a lighter touch.
At least get the process going.
She approached Hopper, very hesitant around Divinity, and asked meekly, “Do you mind if I borrow your cell phone? I’d like to call my sister.”
Hopper nodded and reached for the phone, realized his pants were shredded. Checked the floor. He said, “It might be under the bed.”
Yasmin bent at the waist, gave up trying to get any lower. “I’m a little pregnant here. Some help?”
Hopper slid off the bed, feeling the cold motel air against his raw ass as he fished the phone from underneath and handed it off to her. He was already ashamed enough for two lifetimes. Every little thing he did made him feel worse.
Yasmin on the phone: “Kristin? Kristen. I’m okay. Yes, I know. I know…don’t cry, come on. Don’t.” She wiped her eyes with her free hand, cleared her throat. “No, just you. Don’t, please not yet. I’m fine, I’m…happy.” The tears didn’t stop.
Everyone else stood looking at the floor, the walls, out the window. Hopper choked up but held in it. He put his arm around Divinity’s shoulder. She was stiff. Horror-stiff, like his touch was a blade. It made him want to cry more, to cut himself and bleed, to throw himself in front of a train, anything, thinking, Just don’t shut me out, D.
He lost the thread of Yasmin’s conversation when she turned to face the corner. Ernie’s voice faded into focus, him saying, “We’ll deal with them if you two want to get out of here. We’ll handle it.”
Hopper said, “You’re not going to kill them, are you?”
“You want us to?”
“No, I’m not saying…listen, don’t.”
Ernie grunted as he adjusted himself on the bedside, damaged leg hemming Hopper in. “We didn’t plan on it because that’s not the way to do business. Now that Figg is gone, Ivana’s pretty much in charge of DPA. I plan on convincing her that maybe I should head things up for a while. We need to get back to basics.”
“What about her job at the school? No more of that bullshit.”
Ernie nodded. “Agreed. She’ll ask for a transfer. We’ll keep a good eye to make sure her social life is pre-planned, pre-approved, and, probably to her way of thinking, dull as dishwater.”
Fine. Whatever. Hopper didn’t care, as long as nobody killed anyone for his sake and thought it was worth a favor. Wait—he remembered Villeponteaux taking out Figg. As long as nobody else tried it, then.
He turned to Divinity. “What do you want to do?”
She didn’t look at him or anybody else. Low and dead, said, “Go home.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“Excuse me.” Yasmin, holding the cell out to Hopper. Her cheeks were flushed from crying. “She wants to talk to you.”
He took the phone, said, “Yeah?”
Kristen said, “I wanted to say thank you. I should’ve been more up-front with you, but maybe now you see why…I couldn’t. But you found her and she’s okay, and I owe you so much—”
“Forget it. Case closed, debt’s paid.”
“That’s not fair to you. I always pay my bills.”
Not this time. “Don’t worry about it. We’re done.” He closed the phone before she could say anything else. Yasmin had watched the conversation. He stared at her, no words. She must have expected them, raising her eyebrows and shrugging a couple times.
She finally said, “This is all messed up, I know. I hope you don’t hate me. Maybe if you’d said you knew Gary or something, things would’ve turned out differently.”
She waited for a response. Didn’t get one. So she kept on.
“What I’m saying is, you know, I didn’t want to be found at first, sure. And I don’t want to go home, no fairy tale ending, but I’m glad you tracked me down. Like, it’s nice to know people care, you know?”
She didn’t deserve his silence or his hatred—save that for the rapists in the bathroom. For that moment, though, she got the brunt of it. The muscles in his face tight. Blood vessels in his eyes rising. He stood up, an inch from her face, and said, “I should throw you out that window. I won’t, although I should. So help me god I’m not lying when I say I hope you die a terrible death and that you’re truly goddamn scared when it happens.”
He grabbed Divinity’s hand and started for the door. Opened it, then stopped to say, “And if I ever see any of you people again, I will kill you right then.”
Ernie took a few steps and said, “You threaten me after I save your ass?”
Hopper dropped Divinity’s hand and grabbed Ernie’s throat, a crushing grip. He gagged. Yasmin screeched again and Gary was on his way to help. Hopper pushed Ernie against Gary hard enough to send them both crashing to the floor. He reached for D’s hand again.
Nothing there.
She was gone, three doors down the hall on her way to the elevator, shoulder to the wall. Didn’t give a shit for his chivalry.
He caught up, hands off, and followed without a word. Let her do the walking, the elevator button-pressing, the decision-making. Nothing he could do. Nothing. Heartburn made him cough.
The only words between them were functional, no hint of familiarity, measured enough to get the response required and no more—“Where’s my toothbrush?” “You want these notes or not?” “E-tickets. We don’t need the printout. The credit card is all.”
“The five o’clock flight is fine. I need a shower.”
Hopper broke down while she was in the shower. He buried his face in the mattress and shook out all of his hate and humiliation and pain and goddamn raped twice in my lifetime and don’t let me lose her, God, please, if you’re even there and he doubted there was a god there. A god wouldn’t have let anything happen to Divinity. A god wouldn’t have let things between himself and Sister turn out the way they did.
Then again, the way you sin, God probably cut you off years ago. Same with D. Same with Sister. You and Sister deserve each other. Go home and father the Antichrist, why don’t you?
He heard something like a birdcall and it took him a moment to make out over the running shower water that Divinity was crying too, sucking in round gulps of air,
trying to keep it quiet, failing miserably.
Hopper’s cell phone rang. Caller ID said it was Sister. Of course it was. She had perfect timing.
She said, “Still playing detective?”
“I’m not playing.” He thought about telling her what happened, gain some sympathy. Wouldn’t work. Not with her. Better to tell her, “We wrapped up a case.”
“Everything turn out peachy?”
A long sigh. “Yeah, peachy. Just sweet.”
Hopper waited for the new strike, more sarcasm, something. Instead, “Are you all right?”
He was hoping someone else would ask, someone to whom he could spill it all. Not her. Still, if no one else was interested, it was the only outlet. “No, I’m not. I’ll tell you when I get home. I’m pretty low.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll be here. Stay safe.”
Safe. Hopper grinned as he closed the phone. Not in his vocabulary.
In the bathroom, Divinity had stopped crying.
Now she’s looking for someone to blame.
He would take it all if it would help her, cleanse her, heal her. Pile it on, no matter how heavy. Pile the cross on his back and beat him as he carried it.
Whatever it took.
Divinity was cold. On the plane, she huddled beneath a blanket. Hopper had offered to buy her some sweatpants at the airport, but she shook her head. The usual sundress and flip-flops were fine. Truth was she didn’t want anything from him.
She listened to music on the headphones, kept switching channels, and when she had to use the restroom, she’d jerk at her seatbelt and climb over Hopper without saying a word.
He knew she had lost all confidence in him. It didn’t matter that he’d been tied up and raped as well. No, the problem was that she had never expected something like that to happen while Hopper was with her. He was her fortress, one less thing to worry about in the world full of trouble. And he had failed. Catastrophically.
Even with his ass still throbbing, he knew she was feeling her rape differently than he could ever feel his. Divinity saw him as part of the trauma, maybe even a perpetrator, because of his helplessness. Useless, weak.
