Tamara wiped her face with the back of her hand. She saw the smear of mascara mixed with the blood, still streaming from her throbbing nose. "I’m sorry, baby," she hiccupped. "What did I do? I don’t even know what I did! Why are you so mad?"
Reddick got up from his chair, his teeth clenched and his face heart attack crimson. He extended his fingers and she could hear his knuckles cracking. Tamara was already on the floor, backed into the corner of his dirty bedroom. There was a pair of boxer shorts on the floor by her foot. The shorts were patterned with clown faces and water guns. The crazy fabric only served to make the skidmark in the shorts darker and more noticeable. He walked toward her slowly, and she wondered which boots he was wearing today.
"What did you do?" Reddick screamed. "What did you do? You know good and goddamned well what you did." With the first kick to her stomach, Tamara realized it must be Wednesday. Reddick always wore his steel-toed boots on Wednesday. After a couple minutes, it didn’t matter what she had done, because she had shut down. The kicks barely registered as pain. Unconscious, it was like she was floating on her back in a pool, a warm pool at night, under a moonless sky, filled with faintly pulsating stars.
***
TAMARA HAD BEEN With a Boy for six weeks. It wasn’t at all like the books she read or the stories she had heard. She wasn’t sure if she was sadder about the fact that she was in a terrible relationship with an awful Boy or the fact that her romantic fantasies had been shattered. If she went and cried to her mother, her mother would only tell her, "I told you so. The men of the Keep have always been that way and you’ve known that since you were little." If she fell to her knees and wept on her Grandmother’s lap, her Grandmother would only say, "They’re all the same. It is never different, always for hundreds of years."
That may have been the truth, but it was not what Tamara wanted to hear. She looked at the pictures of Reddick she had stored on her phone and cried softly, so as not to further injure her ribs. Sniffling, she talked to the photos. "Tell me I’m beautiful," she wept. "Tell me you love me. Tell me we’ll be together forever." The pictures of Reddick said nothing, just like Reddick in real life.
It was dark outside, and the moon was nothing but a golden thumbnail in the sky. Soon, even the moon would disappear, leaving Tamara utterly alone. She sensed the hammer, poised to fall. She sat in her bed, pulled her knees up under her chin and waited for the darkness to come.
***
3:42 AM – NEW TEXT FROM REDDICK
The beeping and vibrating woke Tamara up. She thumbed the button on her phone to read the message.
"we’re done bitch lol come get ur shit," read the message.
Tamara powered the phone down. She began to rock back and forth, not even realizing she was crying, not hearing herself moan like an animal, struck by a car and flung to the side of the road.
***
THE SEVENTEEN-YEAR-old girl had told her father she was staying the night with a friend. That wasn’t exactly a lie. Going out with someone you met on the internet was like going out with a friend. The thirteen year old, however, was monitored a bit more closely. She had climbed out of her bedroom window and into Reddick’s back seat. "Everything cool?" he asked her.
"It was easy," the girl said. "My dad is asleep in front of the television again."
Reddick smiled slightly. "Good," he said as he handed her a silver flask. The youngster tilted it back and took a healthy swig.
The seventeen year old girl reached up from the back seat and smacked the younger girl in the back of the head. "Save some for the rest of us, Evelyn," she said. Evelyn complied, handing the flask back to the older girl.
"Take it," Evelyn said.
"Oh, you’ll take it, all right," Reddick said. "You’ll both take it."
The girls giggled and Evelyn turned towards the back seat. "Come on, Maureen," she said. "Give it back."
"Don’t worry," Reddick said, already growing hard with anticipation. "There’s plenty more where that came from."
It’s not often one has the chance to make themselves unforgettable, to change the life of a young girl forever, he thought. He wasn’t just getting two underage girls drunk and having sex with them in front of three hidden cameras. Little Evelyn was a virgin. Not only would that drive the price tag of this particular video up, but he was doing her a favor. Hell, he was performing a public service. Somebody should give him a medal.
***
THE NEXT FEW hours at Reddick’s place were a blur of fluids and flesh. Maureen, being older, had more of an idea concerning what was going on. Evelyn, who liked to play tough, thought she understood the sorts of things that would be required of her. The full gravity of the situation didn’t dawn on Evelyn until she found herself on her already carpet-burnt knees with Reddick’s ungreased penis pressing against her asshole. She wigged out then, squirming away, crying and expressing a sincere desire to see her mother.
"Goddammit," Reddick said. He got up from the position he had assumed. He roughly hooked his arm around Evelyn’s waist and threw her easily onto a couch in the corner.
"What did you think this was? What kind of party did you think this was?" he screamed.
"I don’t know, I don’t know, but I don’t like this, I don’t like it and I want to go home!" Evelyn cried.
Boyle’s fists were clenched and his crimson face stared down at Evelyn like an angry sun. He contemplated pulling his boots on and giving her a real work-over, a lesson in response to her deception, those shitty words that came out of her little lying mouth.
"Easy, man," came Maureen’s voice, slurring its way from the bed. "She’s just a kid."
"She won’t be by the time I’m done with her," Reddick said. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Maureen. "You. Talk to her. Get her something to drink. Remind her we had a fucking deal."
Maureen swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I’ll take care of it, Reddick," she said.
Reddick smiled. "You’re awfully close to becoming my main hang, Maureen. Just keep doing what you’re told, baby. You know what I’m saying?"
Maureen licked Reddick’s cheek. "I’ll take care of Evelyn then I’ll get myself ready."
"Grease her up first. I’ve got buyers."
Maureen shrugged. "As long as I get to watch."
"You’ll get yours, baby," Boyle said. "Don’t you worry about that. There’s plenty of this big cock for both of you."
"Poor Evelyn," Maureen sniffed disdainfully. "She’s gonna cry."
"I get more money from certain collectors if she does. And if she doesn’t, I’ll fix it in the edit. Now go. The pills are in my duffel bag. Put a couple in her glass before you pour her anything. She needs to loosen up a bit. Not much, though, you know what I mean?" He laughed at his own joke.
"You got it, baby," Maureen said.
With one bitch taking care of another, Reddick headed into the bathroom to take a leak. His erection had faded with the onset of Evelyn’s little shit fit, and he had to piss like crazy.
He had stashed his cell phone in the bathroom before filming began. He held himself with one hand while peeing and checked his texts with his other hand. The usual stuff, it seemed. Requests and threats, that was all he ever got anymore. Oh, wait. Here was one worth following up on.
***
10:43 PM -- NEW TEXT FROM TAMARA
"Can’t we talk this out? Pick me up Wed. night for drinks. Worth yr while. Tam"
***
REDDICK LAUGHED SO hard, he missed the bowl. That stupid old whore. Did she actually think she could win him back when he had a brand new piece of seventeen year old ass? Ridiculous. Still, if she was offering up a piece for him to knock off, he would be stupid not to do it. "be there at 9 & this btr b good," he thumbed and hit the ‘send’ button.
He finished pissing and flushed the toilet. He checked his look in the mirror. Was he still sexy? Was he still a charmer? Did he still have the biggest cock in the Keep? Fuck, yeah, on all counts. He flung the bathroom door op
en and walked back into his bedroom.
Evelyn was half-sitting, half-slumping over the arm of the couch, and her helplessness made Reddick laugh to himself. "How you doin’ now, little lady?" he asked her.
She lifted her head towards him, but her eyes were having a difficult time locking in on his face. "I feel okay," Evelyn said, "but everything feels like it wants to tingle."
Reddick turned the corners of his mouth down, in a cruel exaggeration of a frown. "Aw, that’s too bad," he said, mockingly. He reached down and, picking her up slightly, gave Evelyn a half-turn, placing her face and chest on the couch cushion and her knees back on the floor.
He motioned to Maureen, who crawled the six feet over to Reddick’s crotch. She flipped the tip of his cock up with her tongue, letting it fall into her mouth. After a few seconds of teasing from Maureen, Reddick was painfully hard. He pushed Maureen away, and she lay down on the floor like a dog, her eyes following his hard-on.
"I can’t feel my legs, Reddick," Evelyn said, her voice muffled by the couch cushions.
"That’s too bad, Evelyn," he said, maneuvering himself into position behind her. He put a hand on her left butt cheek, gently pushing it to one side. "See if you can feel this." He pushed forward.
Maureen laughed as Evelyn screamed and cried and the cameras rolled and Reddick raised his fists to the heavens, as if he were wielding iron rods and daring the gods to strike him down with lightning.
III
Last Goodbye
TAMARA HAD NEVER had a lot of money, but she splurged a little bit and dropped a few bucks on a new mini-dress. It was black, short and see-through, just the kind of tawdry little washcloth Reddick would like to see on her. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. She painted her long nails black for the occasion. She intentionally overdid the mascara; she wanted long eyelashes, like a movie star. Her eye shadow was a sparkly grey the closest shade to matching her eyes she could find. She slyly neglected to wear any underclothes. It was a tiny dress, so she had shaved her armpits and her legs. Nothing else, though. She wasn’t about to let him get that far again. To top it all off, Tamara wore black lipstick for the first time in her life. It seemed fitting to wear something new for the opening of a new chapter in her life.
Yes, yes, she thought. A good clear-cut break-up and a new beginning. It was healthy and right to take some time to heal, physically and emotionally.
She flipped on the porch light at eight-thirty. The weather was terrible, one of those unproductive drizzling rains that make the roads slick and your hair frizzy. She considered just inviting Reddick in and not going out at all.
Nah.
She wanted a couple more drinks out of him before everything fell apart for good. One more night on a rich guy’s tab wasn’t going to hurt anything. Tamara looked up and stared into the moonless sky. The older women in the family called it a dark moon; still there but hiding, renewing itself, waiting for the right time to reappear.
Maybe she would give up boys for a while, Tamara thought. Go dark for a bit. Disappear. Fade away. Come back strong, when the time was right.
The mist carried with it a chill and Tamara went back inside and found a shawl to wrap around her shoulders. The red one would go nicely with her black outfit. This was going to be a good night, she thought. It would be a good feeling to be all dressed up, looking amazing and hot, and turn Reddick Boyle down flat. She already had the number for the taxi company programmed into her phone; she wouldn’t even have to get a ride home from her ex-boyfriend. Empowering! , she thought. The women in her family would be proud of her.
Two short blasts from a car horn came from the driveway. She took a deep breath, straightened the hem of her dress and walked out the door.
***
"WHAT'S ALL THIS?" Reddick asked, moving his hand up and down to indicate her outfit.
"Do you like it?" she asked demurely.
"Yeah, I guess," he said. "That whole Goth thing with the lipstick. That’s a good look for you."
Tamara blushed. He was complimenting her. This was a ploy she did not expect. Maybe there was hope for them after all. Could their relationship be saved? That would be miraculous.
Reddick Boyle drove too fast on the wet roads. He told Maureen he would give this bitch an hour, maybe an hour and a half, just for old times’ sake. He had been preoccupied with thinking about the half-naked teenager in his room, waiting for him with bumps of cocaine, a dildo and a webcam. But he was certainly distracted by the shiny thing sitting beside him. He wanted to steal it, like a magpie, and hide it somewhere for later. If he played his cards right, maybe then he could keep Tamara as a side dish, something to do when little Maureen had homework or a fucking prom to go to.
"So, where are we going to talk this out?" he asked.
"Let’s go to the Nine Back at the Lodge," she replied. "It’s pretty close by."
"That’ll work," Reddick said. He also knew that if things went really well, he could stall Maureen and grab a room at the Lodge for Tamara and himself. Maybe he could talk Maureen into coming over the Lodge, too. Yeah, it was a school night and all, but if everybody was drunk or high enough… well, focus on that later, he thought. One thing at a time.
Reddick had left his portable MP3 player charging at the house, so he was listening to WREK. He wished some other stations came in well enough to listen to, but the mountains played hell with radio signals. The country station and the classic rock station from Knoxville come in all right on clear days, but for convenience’ sake, it was good old WREK: The Wreck.
"I like this song," Tamara said, as the opening chords of Superdrag’s "True Believer" blasted through the car speakers.
"Local boys done good," Reddick said. "Hard not to like ‘em."
He moved his hand from the gear shift to Tamara’s bare leg. She politely picked it up and placed it back on the shifter. "That’s not why I’m here, Reddick Boyle," she said.
"Really?" he scoffed. "I think it’s exactly why we’re here."
Tamara cleared her throat. "Well, you are wrong," she said, primly. She hoped her voice conveyed the kind of determination and strength of the other women in her family, the kind of assurance and confidence she grew up hearing and learning.
"Shit," Reddick said, and put his hand further up her leg.
"Goddammit, Reddick," she said sternly. "I said, ‘No!’"
He pulled his hand away voluntarily. Tamara’s rejection of even his hand, her despising of his touch, infuriated him. He could feel the anger rising again, as it always did, so fast. Sweat began to form on his forehead, and he had that familiar rush of blood to his face. His right arm began to tremor, almost like all the rage in his body was focused in that limb. Out of the corner of his eye he could see it, tensing and relaxing, almost throbbing with pure hatred.
Reddick Boyle raised his arm and bent it toward himself. He held it for a second, almost as if he were charging it up. Then, with a high-pitched shriek, he extended his arm fully like a springbar, charging it deep into Tamara’s stomach. He heard the air leave her lungs with a satisfying whoosh. He had caught her off guard and was pleased about it.
Tamara’s instinct was to double over in pain and surprise, but the seat belt, sensing impact, held her fast. Her eyes bulged out as she tried to remember how to breathe. Her mouth opened wide. Tears streamed down her face, ruining the makeup she had applied so carefully and with such bold purpose. If her ribs weren’t broken, they were definitely bruised. Tamara knew she had felt them move into an odd position.
Reddick kept driving, his eyes focused on the road ahead. The radio continued to play. Finally, Tamara began to cry, great painful sobs of agony and surprise. Even at the worst part of their relationship, Tamara had never felt afraid of Reddick Boyle. Everything was different now. A needle of fear began to move into her veins.
It made her angry.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Reddick muttered. "There you go with your fuckin’ crying again. Always crying. Bitching and moaning abo
ut one thing or another. Can’t even have a proper conversation without you opening the floodgates. Now I remember why I dumped your fat ass."
She turned her head and stared at him, this violent thing, this vessel of bile that she had so eagerly given herself to. So much waiting and she lost her virginity to this scumbag? Amazing. What a horrible decision.
Reddick turned the blinker. "We’re here," he said. He killed the headlights and pulled into a parking lot partially between the Lodge entrance and the Nine Back doors. "Be thinking about what your drink order is. I don’t want to stay here any longer with you than I have to."
Tamara tested her lung capacity. She could take a deep breath again, but it caused shockwaves of pain from her rattled ribcage. Still, she figured she could grit her teeth through it.
She lowered her eyes and dropped her head onto her chest. "Okay," she said, quietly. "Okay. I get the picture."
Reddick turned the car off. "What’s that supposed to mean, huh?"
"It means I understand why you broke up with me," Tamara said. "I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me, someone so boring and emotional. I know I’m no fun to be around. I get it. I do."
Reddick shrugged his shoulders. "It wasn’t as bad as all that, sometimes."
She raised her head, suddenly hopeful, but guarded. "Really?" she asked. She excitedly flopped her hand into his crotch. With her thumbnail, Tamara began stroking his penis through his jeans.
He laughed a little. "What, right here? In the car? In the parking lot?"
She batted her now clumpy eyelashes at him. "Why not?"
He laughed in amusement. "Because you never ever wanted to do anything this freaky when we were together."
Tamara cocked an eyebrow. "You never ever once asked nice," she said. "I’ll give you all the freaky you can handle but you need to do something for me."
"Bitch, we’re done," Reddick said. "I don’t have to do shit for you." She started rubbing him more intensely. His eyes rolled back in his head a little and his breaths grew jagged.
Black Friday: An Elders Keep Collection Special Edition Page 6
