by Marie Marini
I gave Jesus a key for the house. When I was fake sick he was so attentive. When he carried me to the bedroom and tucked me in to bed it was so comforting and sweet. He kissed me on the head and asked if he could sleep on my couch just to keep an eye on me. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I nodded and feigned sleepiness. The last time anyone tucked me in and kissed me on the head I was maybe 15 years old and had finally succumbed to the Tricia’s charms. I knew he wasn’t perfect but maybe my Prince Charming was never going to be perfect, maybe trying to be was good enough.
I was in my last few weeks of school and spent the next couple of days deep in the books. Jesus stopped by after work then drove home every night. After a couple of weeks, I surprised him with a toothbrush and a space in the closet for a few things. We were moving closer to an intimate relationship. I hadn’t plucked up the courage yet to ask him about restraints, but I think that was the only way I could have sex with anyone. I couldn’t hold out on him forever, but I needed to be in control. I needed to be on top and not smothered or pushed.
I was going to ask him that weekend.
It was a Friday night and I was nervous. We both had the weekend off, which was unusual. We sat in the living room. I poured him a glass of wine and got myself some Pellegrino. I liked having him around, besides he told me all the details of the Meat case. I was in the clear. I owed him something.
I kind of just blurted it out. I told him I wanted to have sex but I was scared and I needed to be in control at all times. He smiled and said he was fine with that. With anything I wanted. It broke the ice a little bit and we laughed. The poor man just wanted to get laid. I asked about restraints and before I could even explain he said as long as there was no pain involved, he was good with it. This was going to be easier than I thought. His only request is that we plan it for the next night because he wanted it to be really special. He told me he would buy me flowers and take me out to dinner.
Jesus picked me up at the house in a sleek black stretch limo. I had never been in a limo before and I felt like Cinderella. I had picked out an azure blue silk sundress. It had spaghetti straps and fell just above the knee. It tied in the back at the waist, cinching it just enough to give me shape but not enough to show everything. I loved that color of blue. I chose not to wear the heels this time. I didn’t want to tempt fate. Jesus was wearing a suit and brought a dozen beautiful red roses to the door. He put them in a vase before whisking me off towards our waiting car. The nosy cow from next door was peeking through the blinds again. We hadn’t spoken since the last time when she told me the cops had been by. I would love to know what she was thinking seeing one of those cops show up in a limo to take me out!
The car was huge. I had never seen such a thing! Jesus poured drinks as we merged onto the highway and cut through traffic on our way to Fort Lauderdale. I imagined that every car we passed was wondering what famous people were in the limo. This was a different kind of power, something I had never known. I was drunk on it and I asked him if we could have privacy from the driver. He pressed a button and a screen went up leaving us alone. I pushed him back and bent forward to give him head. I told him do not touch me in any way or it would be over. He came quickly and violently in my mouth. I spat it into the wine glass and watched his sperm mix with his wine. He looked stunned. I was hot and turned on and I felt like I ruled the world. I didn’t want to go to a fancy restaurant, I just wanted to ride around in that car! We went to the Wendy’s drive through and got some burgers. I stuck my head out the skylight window and felt the rush of the wind on my face until the driver pulled over and told us we couldn’t do that or we would get pulled over.
I tucked my head back inside the car and we played a game guessing who people thought was in the limo. Celine Dion! Bruno Mars! We could be anyone we chose to be for this night, the fantasy was intoxicating. We drove to South Beach and cruised the crazy A1A. Drag queens and topless women with painted on clothes, gays and lesbians, fancy cars and designer everything. It was another world and I was a part of it that night. I was so far from that little shoeless cracker in Georgia who killed her own mother. I had created a whole new life for myself and it was damn good.
We got out of the car and walked the beach for a little while. We talked about skinny dipping but never really got up the nerve. We ran back to the car dragging in sand and not caring; someone else would clean it up. On the way back in the car we were making out hot and heavy. Jesus started moving his hand up the inside of my thigh and I opened my legs just a little bit to allow limited access. He was keeping to the side and not crowding me, and his thumb was rubbing me in a lazy slow rhythm through my panties while he nibbled at my neck. I was so charged and alive and scared at the same time. I was throbbing and desperate for him but I didn’t want him on top of me. I wanted him in restraints. But this felt so good too. Damn. I was so confused. The car started to slow down. We were home.
He tipped the driver and helped me out of the car. I was sorry to see that car go. We carried our sandy shoes up the path to the front door and Jesus used his key to open the door. We didn’t waste time but didn’t rush either. We just headed for the bedroom. When I reached under the bed and pulled the restraints out, he just smiled and nodded. I tied them to the bed and he lay down subserviently and let me tie his wrists. I stripped him naked and had a good look at him. He was strong and lean, he looked good and was ready. I took my time taking off my clothes and stood in front of him naked, letting him look all he wanted until he groaned that I was torturing him. I decided not to restrain his legs and made my way up the bed until I straddled him. I rubbed myself against him until he begged. Then I guided him inside. This was a bit scary for me because he could move his lower body. But he couldn’t touch me with his hands, so I strangled down that scared little voice inside me and focused on how special the whole night had been. Slowly I started to move. Very slowly, very gently we rocked to our own rhythm. It felt good to have him rock against me. I wasn’t doing all the work. This was new and strange and scary and wonderful. He came first and felt bad about it, then begged me to untie him so that he could ‘finish me off.’ He must have seen fear in my face, so he carefully explained exactly what he wanted to do. I slid up his body until I was inches from his mouth. Oh My God! He begged me to let him lick me. I was watching but I don’t even know how he did what he did. Meat was an amateur. I staggered off to the shower, forgetting to untie him. I wasn’t used to the untying part. When I got out of the shower I got him out of the restraints and he went to clean up and I stripped the bed sheets. We had made a real mess. Clean and satiated, with fresh sheets on the bed, we fell asleep together for the first time.
I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic. I could hear his breathing, I could feel him. Too close! I got up out of bed as quietly as I could and went into the living room. I was soaked with sweat. Where was this coming from? I had slept beside Darren and even crazy Meat. I was shaking and trying to figure it out when I looked up and he was there, watching me from the doorway. Damn it!
“Babe, are you okay?” he sounded sleepy.
“Yeah, fine. Just hot. I needed a drink, go back to bed.” I hoped he hadn’t seen me shaking or sweating.
“K,” he mumbled. I heard him stumble into the bathroom and pee, flush, then the creak of the floorboard as he tumbled back into bed. I took half a Xanax, washed it down with ice water and put on a fresh t-shirt. Within 30 minutes I was calm. I curled up on the couch and must have dozed off around 5 a.m. I woke to the sounds of Jesus in the kitchen making coffee. It was 6:30 on a Sunday morning. He brought me coffee and kissed my nose when he gave it to me.
“You never came back to bed, are you okay?”
“Yeah, sure I’m fine,” I answered, smiling up at him.. “I just couldn’t go back to sleep then I guess at some point I dozed off on the couch, sorry.”
“Oh okay, I thought maybe I was snoring and you couldn’t sleep. Are you up for a run this
morning?” he asked. He was wearing only boxer shorts and seeing his penis peep out every now and then reminded me of Darren the night we danced.
“Are you running in those?” I asked, indicating the shorts. He grinned back at me. “I have a gym bag in my car which I parked two streets over before I got the limo.”
“Ooh, smarty pants,” I teased. “So are you walking to your car in those to get your gym bag then? I dare you!”
“Hmmm, a dare you say!” He put his coffee down and padded barefoot to the door. He opened it just a little and peeked out. Then without a backward glance, he took off running in his boxers through my neighborhood. At first, I was so shocked I didn’t move. Then I ran to the window to watch him tearing down the road in his underwear. He disappeared around the corner for a couple of minutes before I saw him with his running shorts and sneakers on, carrying his gym bag and jogging back to the house. I saw that nosy old neighbor’s blinds twitch.
When he got back he had this wicked mischievous grin. You should have seen his face when I told him the nosy old neighbor enjoyed the show! We finished our coffee and got ready for a run. My usual run is about 7 miles, he kept up the pace and even pushed me a little beyond my comfort zone. He had long runner legs. I had to work a lot harder than he did, which was fine by me. When we got back to the house, we took turns showering and cleaning up. I know he wanted to play again but I wasn’t ready for that. I was still a little scared from last night. Oh, I knew he would never hurt me. I knew he was already in love, but I still needed some space and time to really think. I told him that the night had been magical and amazing but I had to get some chores done today. I told him I was working Tuesday so he would have to go home Monday night. Maybe we could make Saturday nights a thing when he slept over. He looked disappointed, but he agreed. He was hoping we could go paddle boarding later that day. I told him I had to study, which was true.
It was 11 o’clock before he finally left. I went to Publix to get some shopping done, all the while going over everything in my mind. He was great. He really was. He was kind and gentle and actually a good lover. He was very attentive to me and my needs. I didn’t know men like that even existed. He let me be in control but for how long. If he decided he didn’t want to play by my rules he could overpower me and put the restraints on me. Oh My God! That thought just about sent me into a full-on panic attack right in the middle of the Aisle eight in Publix. FUCK! I would have to be careful. Why did I give him a key? If he comes over and I’m not here there will be questions.
I was flying high, finally. I had broken through Kris’s defenses! I got laid and I got a key to her house! Wow. That was a huge step. After all the little baby steps I couldn’t believe that all at once everything changed. The restraints thing was different for me and just hard because I wanted so badly to touch her, cherish every little part of her. I wanted to kiss every inch of her and show her just how amazing it could be. I wanted to fix everything for her, take all that bad stuff away. I knew I couldn’t but I wanted to try.
I was walking around with this huge smile on my face and nothing could ruin it. There was nothing that the job could throw at me that would take this high away.
Until an email popped up from Dave Barretta around lunch time.
He was one of our research guys but I didn’t have any active cases he was working on so I ignored it for a while. It was around 4:30 p.m. when I finally opened it. There was picture of this little girl, she looked young maybe nine years-old. The first picture showed her from the waist up. She was wearing a hospital gown that was much too big. Her hair was long and straggly, she was obviously malnourished. She had bruises on her head, her throat and her upper arms, the left side of her face was swollen. Her collar bone and shoulders were sharp and shallow. As I stared at her accusing eyes, her belligerent angry stare suddenly screamed a name at me…Kris. If it had been a file, I would have dropped it.
This was Kris. This was the bad things.
Barretta had been digging into Kris’s past when we worked the Mayhew case. John had asked him to keep digging. He had been digging all this time. Since Kris was a juvenile and it happened in another state, it took a while to get the information. I wanted to know, but hated myself for reading it. Back then she was Christine Clay, aged 13. I read the file. An anonymous call came in to an address in a trailer park just outside Roswell Georgia. Three men were seen fleeing the scene but were never apprehended. EMS arrived on scene within minutes of police. I took in the horrific details of the injuries of this little girl. She was thirteen, but looked so much younger.
I read slowly. Thirteen-year-old Caucasian female Christine Clay was admitted to Tenet General in Roswell Georgia following assault. Emergency surgery resulted in removal of the uterus and surgical repair of the rectum and descending large colon. Examination by the abuse team at the hospital revealed damage to the vagina and cervix consistent with years of sexual abuse. The uterus had been punctured with a blunt object in this final assault. She was unconscious and unresponsive when the medics arrived. Her blood pressure was so low that they couldn’t get a reading. They pumped her full of fluids to try to get the pressure up. Her heart stopped twice on the way to the hospital and they managed to get pulses back. A side note on the file stated that one of the responding medics was a foster parent and hounded the Department of Children and Families to allow her to foster this girl. The medic was Tricia Klein, who later adopted her, changing her name to Kristen Klein. I wondered if Tricia ever told Kris that she was on that call.
Kris had cigarette burns on various parts of her body including her nipples. A thought popped into my head, the realization that I had seen that scar. There was a missing chunk of hair from her head. They found all kinds of household items forced into her vagina and anus. Bottle caps, wine bottle corks, a pen, deodorant stick. The anus was torn and a beer bottle was sticking out of her rectum. The medics weren’t sure if the bleeding was from broken glass in her rectum or from her punctured uterus. There were bite marks on her torso, rectum, and breasts, cigarette burns inside her left ear. A long blunt object had caused numerous punctures in the uterine wall, causing the hemorrhage. There were pictures. I vomited into my waste basket. I looked up to realize it was 6 o’clock and everyone had left for the day. Tears were streaming down my face and I couldn’t tear my gaze from the angry little girl that filled my screen and my brain. How could I go home to Kris and keep this from her? How could I not?
I called Steph.
I could hear the girls in the background arguing over some stupid thing and instead of making me laugh it made me so mad. As soon as Steph heard my voice she yelled out for Pete and went to the porch to talk to me. I couldn’t get the words out. All I remember is Steph saying, “Hold on, I’ll call you back in 5 minutes.”
Ten minutes later her name lit up my phone. I was still sitting at my desk, staring at the images. I talked to Steph for two hours, I told her everything. All about Darren and Kris, the inconsistencies and our recent breakthrough. I told her about the file. When I was wrung dry and couldn’t find another tear, I hung up the phone and, zombie-like, grabbed my keys and prepared to leave the office. I shut down my computer and just stared for a minute at the blank screen. I had never been affected like this on a case. Not in the years of helping my uncle clean brains from the ceiling after a shot gun suicide, or taking pictures of a crime scene where kids had been shot and killed. I had seen some awful stuff, read some horrific reports, been on nightmare scenes but I didn’t know those people. This time it was personal, I loved Kris and reading this impersonal police report I felt everything!
My phone dinged with an incoming text. My heart raced as I expected Kris, only to see Steph’s name. “Waiting for you outside, let’s go already.” My sister had just driven from the West Coast to rescue her broken brother.
She met me at the door and hustled me into her car. She took my phone and texted Kris, “Sorry really busy at work, might not be
able to see you for a couple of days.” She showed me the text and asked me how to sign it. I told her just kisses, not the “L” word. She typed in a few x’s and hit send. We made a stop to pick up Chinese food and vodka. I stayed in the car just staring at nothing.
When we got back to my place, she made me shower and laid out some sweats for me. She helped herself to a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt. When I got out of the shower Steph had put the Chinese food on plates and poured a large Vodka and coke for each of us. We talked about it again. And again. Slowly, painfully, every detail came out of me and I confessed my soul to my sister. When I passed out drunk on the couch, Steph got a blanket from the bedroom and covered me up. She left a lamp on low before she crashed on my bed.
We were both pretty cotton-mouthed in the morning. I looked like shit. I checked my phone and found a message from Kris letting me off the hook until after her final exam. After a shower, shave and a run I was feeling a bit more human and utterly embarrassed. Poor Steph had dropped everything to come running to her flaky brother. I was a detective, I dealt with this stuff every day. Steph didn’t sign on for those details, especially when she has two little girls of her own. I was ashamed of myself for burdening her with all that vitreous.
We went out for breakfast and I assured her I was fine. I apologized over and over and she would hear nothing of it. She was staying for a couple of days. She told me it would be good for Pete to spend some alone time with the girls anyway and she needed a break.
We hit the beach and just hung out for a while. It had been a long time since we had done that. I called work and asked for a couple of days off and we just hung out at the beach or the pool during the day and watched old movies at night. On the third day, she told me she had to go home. Before she left, we talked one more time. I couldn’t tell Kris I had seen that file. But thanks to my sister, now I felt stronger. Maybe I could face Kris and keep that to myself. For both our sakes. Something like this could destroy a relationship.
