Deceptions

by Dana Mansfield

  “We, us, my, nam,” Jack said impatiently on the UP of a pushup. “We are both getting out of this,” he insisted on the DOWN. “You always refer to me being reunited with the children and never yourself.” UP. “You are going to see them again too.” DOWN.

  “But it’s more important for you to make it back to them,” Penny replied. Jack did one last pushup and knelt on the shag carpeting, breathing hard. It was the beginning of the argument they had been having for so long he couldn’t even remember when it started.

  “Penelope, please,” he begged. “You are just as important. My children think of you as more of a mother than their own mother. You cannot deny that, no?” Penny opened her mouth to say something but then closed her mouth and frowned. He got her. She huffed a bit. She refused to look at him. Jack sat on the bed and swiveled her head so it was pointed towards him. Penny’s eyes looked up, down, and to either side of him but not in his eyes. “You do not have to look at me,” he said, using the tactic she used on him just a few short weeks ago. “Just listen. You are a very important part of my children’s life. You have raised them in my absence. They love you. I am positive they are saddened over your disappearance just as they are upset over mine. Yes, I am their father and it is important I return to them but it is also important you are too. Vy menya panimayete?”

  “I don’t remember what that means,” she said, still not looking at him.

  “Do you understand?” he informed her with the patience of a caring father. “So, vy menya panimayete?” Another huff and frown.

  “Ya dumayu, tak.”[18]

  “We both are going to get out of this situation,” he reiterated and then lowered his voice. “I need you to survive also.” Finally, she looked at him and he touched his hand to his heart. Her nod was just perceptible. Jack couldn’t help but smile when he saw her beautiful eyes. Penny returned the smile but blushed and dropped her gaze. He wanted to squeeze her hand but that would hurt so instead, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. His stomach fluttered in a way as it had done before – at the cabin the previous June – and he wished he could kiss her on the lips.

  . . .

  The broken bones in her ankles and knees did not heal properly and the first time she tested out standing on them, her face showed the pain she would not express. Even if there was no pain, walking would have been a struggle as her leg muscles atrophied quite a bit. The added pain and limitations Penny faced left her sullen although she tried to hide it. She was emotionally exhausted and near the end of February, she became quiet for a few days. Jack worried about her as she had not eaten much at dinner. That night, as they lay in the dark waiting for the sleeping pills to kick in – once the majority of the pain left Penny was forced to take the pills again – Jack spoke to her.

  “I am proud of you,” he said. It had been bath day and in the medicine cabinet he found a box of hotel sized soap that smelled like apples. He used it to bathe her in the hopes it would lift her spirits. Jack took a deep breath and enjoyed the scent. The only position Penny could lay was on her stomach and she did so with her head turned away from him. She hadn’t said much all day. Slowly, she turned her face to him. There was a full moon and enough light filtered in to illuminate them in cool blueness.

  “Proud?” she questioned. Her voice was sad and this bothered him.

  “You are unbelievably strong,” he said. “We have been in this hell for three months and for nearly every day you have faced incredible pain but have not broken,” he explained. She snorted and turned her head away from him.

  “I’ve bawled my eyes out plenty,” she retorted. “I’m weak.”

  “I do not see it that way, Penelope,” he countered. “If you were broken, I would not still see your soul in your beautiful brown eyes.” He heard her sniffle and he touched her shoulder. The touch had to be gentle; her shoulders burned from having her wrists cuffed behind her. “You have been put through hell but you are still here with me. Where do you get your strength?” His voice was a touch slurred and he felt the lightheadedness that came from the sleeping pills. Penny was quiet for so long he wondered if she was on the brink of dropping off into the dead sleep.

  “From you,” she said. “I want to make sure to survive for you.” She sounded drunk but without the giddiness. “I want to go back to the cabin with you.”

  * * *

  Chapter 21

  I closed my eyes and focused on the warmth of Jack’s hand on my cheek. He touched me like that for the first time during that fateful weekend at the cabin. It was a touch that woke my heart; a heart that had been abused for so long. But Jack hadn’t placed his hand on my cheek out of our secret; he placed it there out of severe necessity.

  “Has the strashnyi golos quieted?” he asked. His voice had so much worry. I was worried too. I had been unable to eat because of the Terrible Voice for almost a week and I was not doing well emotionally or physically and Jack was under threat of being hurt if I didn’t eat. I hoped the threat would have been enough to quiet the Terrible Voice but the threat just made It louder. We were given seventy-two hours to alleviate the situation and there were only a couple hours left. We were both exhausted and this just fueled the Terrible Voice more.

  Jack will be harmed if you don’t eat! Look at what your weakness is causing!

  “Then let me eat,” I pleaded aloud. “Please.”

  “Focus on my hand,” Jack commanded. “Focus on my voice and not the Terrible Voice.”

  “I’m trying,” I replied. I started shaking. My stomach, so empty except for some water, cramped. It was if the Terrible Voice was attacking it and forcing me to expel even the water. We were already in the bathroom and sitting on the cold floor in front of the toilet. It was just past two in the afternoon and I already vomited four times that morning. As soon as the water came up, Jack forced more water down to try and stave off the dehydration I was beginning to suffer from.

  You’re no good… You’re a whore… You deserve the pain and the beatings…

  “Stop! Please stop!” I screamed and squeezed my eyes shut. Jack put his other hand on my other cheek and I focused with all my might. My stomach surged and I leaned over the toilet to vomit. It was violent and my stomach muscles cramped from the forceful motion. I dry heaved for several minutes until I couldn’t hold myself up. Jack caught me before I collapsed against the toilet. I couldn’t breathe for several moments and then when I did, I hyperventilated. The sound of my rapid and irregular breaths was the only thing I heard. I saw Jack’s lips moving but couldn’t hear his words. His gentle brown eyes were worried. His hands touched my face again but my breathing consumed me. The worrisome chest pain that plagued me since Vivienne’s torture surged in my chest. My head pounded; I saw my heartbeat in my vision.

  Jack wrapped his arms around me and held me so tight I found myself unable to breathe. He squeezed even harder and over a couple minutes, my lungs had no choice but to behave. Jack wouldn’t let me go until I begged him to, his embrace hurting me. I slumped back against the wall, a little disorientated.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked in a shaking voice. He was clearly scared. That made two of us.

  “I… I don’t know,” I stuttered. He reached out and touched my cheek again.

  “What do you hear?”

  I took a moment, just to be sure.

  “I hear you,” I answered. “I just hear you, Jack.”

  We did not celebrate. Jack’s touch over the last day and a half dampened the Terrible Voice for a few moments but did not rid me of it. It was silent but I feared It was just lurking. My emotions got the best of me and I started crying. With my hands cuffed behind me, I couldn’t hide my face so I tried to twist around to hide. This only caused my damaged back to react and sharp daggers of pain shot down my legs. I couldn’t help but cry harder. It was the lowest I felt in this horrible ordeal.

  I felt Jack put his arms around me again. He didn’t say anything but that was okay with me. It was the feeling of his embrace I want
ed. Once again, I just needed to feel safe even if that meant he was hugging me. I wasn’t against the idea of hugging; it’s just I never grew up being hugged so it was an odd feeling for me. I never felt a loving embrace from my mother and definitely not from my father or stepmother. The first hug I remember receiving was from, ironically, Shane.

  Jack held me for a long time. He was letting me decide when to break the embrace and I didn’t want the embrace to end just yet. The Terrible Voice, although silent for the moment, still echoed deep into my soul. This wasn’t my first severe battle with the Terrible Voice. Just a few days after Millie went to rehab for drugs and alcohol, I found myself in a facility in Utah to get help with my anorexia. In the first two weeks I was there, the incidents with the Terrible Voice were numerous and so severe the doctor overseeing my care had to use sedatives on me. I began to question my sanity and wondered if maybe I was crazy and not anorexic. My therapist talked me through the moments once the sedatives wore off and I learned to silence the Terrible Voice on my own. I discovered tools while in treatment but none of them worked during the stress of a kidnapping situation. For that, I needed to rely on Jack and his caring touch was starting to work. For now.

  “Why couldn’t It stay silent during this hell?” I whispered into Jack’s chest.

  “Because that would be too convenient,” he said into my ear. A couple minutes later, I pulled out of his embrace. He still had a concerned look on his thin face. It was very stubbly; we weren’t being allowed to bathe until I started eating. My troubles started the day before bath day so we were both ready for a bath and change of clothes. This made me feel guiltier.

  Look what you’ve done, the Terrible Voice whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head.

  “Stay away,” I said, also in a whisper. I felt Jack touch my cheek and the Terrible Voice went away again.

  “Luchshe?”[19] Jack asked.

  “Da,” I responded.

  “Are you up for a little water and maybe some soup?” I nodded. “Only if you are ready,” he said. “I do not want to rush you.”

  “We’re running out of time,” I countered, a little unsure about my stomach. It hurt from so much vomiting and I was afraid even with the Terrible Voice quiet for now, my stomach might not be able to handle any food after not having anything solid for over a week. Jack had asked for a protein shake for me but his request was denied. No shocker there. “Let’s try water first,” I said after a moment of thought. Jack stood and let the tap run a bit before filling our cup. He held it to my lips and I took several small sips. Jack put the cup back and leaned against the sink. The heel of his hand went to his forehead. I felt bad.

  “I’m…” I stopped myself. I was going to apologize for being a bother but I knew that would just irritate Jack more. I expected the Terrible Voice to chime in but It was silent. This was a relief. “I’m ready to try a little food,” I said, going in a different direction from my apology. Jack smiled at me. There was relief in his face also. He helped me to my feet and steadied me as I wavered a bit. My legs were shaky as I walked back to the bed, my movement slow. My knees were killing me but I had no choice but to move under my own power.

  Over the course of half an hour, Jack fed me the bowl of chicken noodle soup that came for our lunch. It was cold but I could not be picky; I needed to make sure my weakness brought no harm to Jack. When I hesitated at taking a spoonful of the soup, Jack would put his free hand on my cheek and this allowed me to eat.

  “How is that setting?” he asked and touched the paper napkin to the corner of my mouth. It reminded me of the day in July so long ago when he did the same thing to his little sister.

  “Okay,” I replied. My stomach felt full and ached but there was no nausea. Progress?

  “Good,” Jack said and gently touched my cheek again. Gentle. That was something Shane knew nothing about.

  As Jack fiddled about with cleaning up, I couldn’t help but think back on Shane. Our relationship was much different at the beginning than how it ended although in retrospect, I realized how stupid I was for falling for Shane’s game. The fact I stayed with him for so long often fueled the Terrible Voice but as I thought about Shane while sitting on the bed, It was quiet. I still felt terrible shame, however, when I thought back to the last few years of the relationship and I was unable to look at Jack. He could not know about those years; I needed to protect him and I needed to protect myself.

  In my various therapy moments, I always admitted how naïve I was in those early months with Shane. I recognized that, at least. Shane was the first boy who showed any interest in me and he quickly had me after we ran into each other the day after the scholarship luncheon where I met Jack. I actually knew Shane from high school. Although we didn’t socialize in the same circle – I had no circle as I was forced to be a loner by my father – but Shane ran in the same group as my half-sister Amanda. I’d seen him at the house or heard Amanda talk with her girlfriends about how cute he was.

  She tried hard to turn the friendship into something more but she was never successful. Amanda’s anger at me when she found out Shane and I were dating was scary. We had been banned from interacting by Eliza when I moved in but after my relationship was revealed, Amanda beat the shit out of me over Christmas break our freshmen year in college – she went to Rutgers – with Eliza’s approval. It was the last time I had any sort of interaction with Amanda. Even at our father’s funeral just a week before Shane broke up with me, I was not even acknowledged by many people. I was humiliated when people said they didn’t even know the esteemed Charles Shepherd had another daughter. In my stepmother’s eulogy, she said not one word about me.

  For appearances sake, Shane was at the funeral with me but there was no emotional support from him. Not a surprise because the relationship had been dead for so long. There never had been anything from him with the exception of the early months but what he gave me then was nothing more than part of his game and as I said, I fell for it. I didn’t know any better. He hugged me after our first date (dinner and a movie), kissed me on our second date (a Springsteen concert where Shane popped for tickets for Jack and Crystal also), and for our third date, he set up a romantic dinner on the terrace of his fancy apartment. A week later was our fourth date and when we consummated our relationship. He took me into New York City to a fancy restaurant where our bill was almost as much as my monthly rent on my tiny studio apartment and then to a Broadway show. I was in awe of the city and the spectacle we watched and then flabbergasted when Shane took me to the Waldorf since it was so late.

  “There’s two beds,” he said, his voice sly, “but I would like it if we shared one.” He leaned in close and kissed me. It was intense. His arms snaked around me and his embrace filled an emptiness inside me. I was grateful for this and I wanted to please him. I was scared, however. I was not a virgin; my first time had been many years earlier but not my choice. There was no kissing then as opposed to now. Shane kissed my neck and mouth but I didn’t enjoy it. There was no warmth to it; it was cold and mechanical and rough. I expected it to be better. His hands were already unzipping my dress although I had not given my consent.

  I did not think at the time I had a choice. My early experiences with sex improperly taught me a woman, more accurately a girl, could not say no to sex with a man. Shane had treated me nice, taken me to my first concert and to the Big Apple for an unbelievable night. He made me feel wanted so I believed giving myself to him was a sign of appreciation. I was stupid. So, so stupid.

  My dress, just a simple sundress, hit the floor. I felt uncomfortable wearing just my prettiest pair of lace panties. He held me at arm’s length and this made me feel even more uncomfortable and I crossed my arms to shield myself.

  “No,” he said and moved my arms away. “You will never cover yourself in front of me,” Shane decreed in a low voice that sounded just a little bit sexy and a lot like a warning. I didn’t know what to do so I nodded. The Terrible Voice spoke then.

  G
ood girl. Pay attention. Learn how he wants you to act around him.

  Shane looked me up and down. I kept my gaze on a brass sconce across the room but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze fixed below my bellybutton. He was looking at the scar.

  “What happened?”

  “I had surgery when I was thirteen,” I replied in a quiet voice and hoped he didn’t want to know for what.

  “Other than the scar, you have a hot body,” Shane said and stepped closer. His hands went to my visible hip bones, then up to my very visible ribs. “Some guys like a little meat. I’m not one of them. I like to see the bones.” He was aggressive as he went to town on my neck and leaned into me. I felt how ready he was for what was going to happen regardless if I was ready. The more aggressive he got, the more scared I became.

  His thumbs hooked my panties and he tugged hard. They were a delicate pair I bought on a whim and with a violent tear, Shane had them off of me. This frightened me even more and I froze as he started pawing me down there while his mouth found one of my nipples. Shane nipped at me and I yelped.

  “Relax,” he barked which, of course, had the opposite effect on me. He took a step back and pulled off his polo shirt. He went to the bag he brought along and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid. “Take a drink,” he ordered after filling a shot glass and handing it to me. It was whiskey. I had never drank before and I hadn’t eaten much at dinner before the show. “You need to relax or this might get ugly.” I started shaking with those words. “Are you a virgin?”

  “No,” I replied and took a sip of the alcohol. It tasted horrible and I started to cough even from the small amount. “I don’t drink,” I said and handed the shot glass to him. He was disappointed but then drank the rest down.

  “How many guys have you been with?” Shane asked after taking another shot.