Chapter Fifteen
When Aaron entered his mother’s hospital room the next morning, he froze with uncertainty. Their eyes met, the chill cutting him to the bone like ice-cold filet knives. Detective Kilner was present, sitting in a chair at her bedside.
“Ah, Aaron,” Detective Kilner said. The man stood and tucked his notepad in his jacket.
This is it, Aaron thought. The moment of truth.
“Guess who’s awake?” the man continued.
Aaron realized he wasn’t breathing and remembered to do so. He forced a smile and looked at his mother again. His faux smile became a real one. Regardless of what the woman had said to the detective and what she thought of him, he was happy to see her awake.
“Mom, how are you feeling?” he asked.
She smiled back at him. It was genuine, he thought. She had bags under her eyes, the flesh a shade of purple. Her skin appeared more wrinkly than normal. She had lost weight.
“Come here and give your mother a hug,” she said.
Aaron approached the bed, tentatively, the detective moving out of the way. He waited for the feel of cold steel as the handcuffs were snapped around his wrists, but no such thing happened as he bent and embraced his mother.
“I think I have all I need for now, Mrs. Dupree,” Detective Kilner said. “I’ll leave you two alone and call you if there’s anything else, or if we get any more information.”
Upon hearing the detective’s words, Aaron was able to relax a little, enjoying his mother’s love.
“Thank you, Detective,” his mother said.
Aaron stood, giving his mother a view of the man as he left the room. He stopped at the door. “You two hang in there. And Aaron, you take care of this woman. She’s a good one.”
“I will.”
When the officer left, Aaron turned toward his mom. The smile was gone from her face.
“Close the door,” she said. “We need to talk.”
Aaron swallowed hard, shut the door and took a seat by his mom’s bedside. “I’m so sorry, Mom.” Tears welled in his eyes, the pressure long building.
“Shhh,” she said, gently. “It’s okay.” She patted him on his head and rubbed his cheek.
“No, it’s not,” he said, got up and hugged her again.
They shared a few tears and then the serious talking began. Aaron sat on the edge of his seat, literally, ready to explain everything. He wasn’t sure where to begin, so she told him, “From the beginning is always the best place.”
He told her about getting pulled over and threatened, being blackmailed into robbing the liquor store where Hanna’s uncle was killed, but that when he left, the man was alive.
“I swear. I didn’t kill him or know he was going to be murdered,” he said.
His mother believed him and he went on, telling her about the video file he’d been sent, and then finally about how he was told to go to the abandoned hospital, not knowing the reason until he arrived there and got a call from the cop.
“If I’d known any of this shit was going to happen, I would’ve told that cop from the beginning to go to hell.”
“You had no choice, Aaron,” his mother said when he was finished. “And that wouldn’t have worked.”
“What do you mean?”
“This wasn’t about hurting you, son. It was about hurting me.”
Chapter Sixteen
The night before the rape
Kelly finished up a long shift at the diner. She had no plans for the evening and decided to stay home and hang out with her son. Maybe they would watch a movie or play a board game. It really didn’t matter as long as she was able to spend quality time with him. He’d been out for six months, and although they saw a lot of each other, there hadn’t been much quality time. She’d missed her son. She wanted to give him the space and time to adjust and not hound him. But it had been long enough. He was still her boy, but he’d changed. She wanted to get to know the real him.
It was clear he’d come out of prison a better person, which she thought was odd because prison usually made people tougher, meaner. At least that’s what her experience had been with friends of hers who had wound up in the joint, plus what she’d seen on the news and on television shows.
After a round of see-you-laters, Kelly left the restaurant and headed to her car. The locks weren’t disengaging with the remote, so she used her key—the act feeling incredibly archaic. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it to open the car door.
She sat behind the wheel and started the engine. Getting out her cell phone, she was about to call Aaron and see what he wanted for dinner, when her body coursed with a fiery agony. The pain was immediate and intense, like nothing she’d ever felt before. A few moments later, she passed out.
She awoke in a room that appeared old and worn, but had recently been cleaned. A multitude of stains blanketed the walls. Exposed pipes showed from cracked Sheetrock. Something hot and itch-inducing was covering her head, save holes for her eyes and mouth. She knew it was a ski mask, having donned such an item before. She attempted to move, but her arms and legs were held in place. Able to raise her head, she saw that she was cuffed to the bed, naked.
“It won’t come out,” a male voice said.
She looked across the room and saw two men. One was muscled with a shaved head and average height. A nasty-looking scar ran down the side of his face. The other man was taller, handsome. He looked familiar, and then she remembered. He was the cop she had met at the bar, the man she told to get lost after she found out he was a lawman. His name was Kyle. Her fear turned to anger and she flailed her arms and kicked her legs, hoping to break free.
The men looked at her.
The cop smiled. “Ah, you’re up,” he said, and approached the bed.
The man with the scar walked over to where a pipe ran from ceiling to floor and handcuffed himself to it. This didn’t make Kelly feel any better.
“Don’t worry about him,” Kyle said. “As long as he’s secured to that pipe, he can’t harm you.”
Kelly wanted to scream for help, but knew doing so was pointless. She guessed she was in some kind of abandoned building and far from prying ears. Otherwise she would have been gagged. Showing the cop how afraid she was would only give him what he wanted. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I don’t know what the hell this is about,” she said, “but you better release me before this goes too far.”
“Or what?” Kyle asked. “You’re in no position to demand anything.”
“I knew I was right about you,” Kelly spat. “You pigs are all the same.” She tugged at her bonds. “Let me the fuck out of here, you demented bastard. The joke’s over.”
Kyle cocked his head. “This is no joke.” With snakelike speed, his arm shot forward. Kelly’s ability to breathe was gone as his fingers clenched her windpipe shut. She struggled, the handcuffs preventing her from doing much of anything. She was helpless. The cop was smiling. She saw a deranged glee in his eyes. If she thought he was crazy before, she knew it now. There was no reasoning with this man. No amount of pleading, crying or promising would affect him. He would never change his plans.
Completely helpless, she felt fear fill every cell in her body. A single prevailing thought entered her mind: she might never see her son again.
As the pressure built, her eyes felt as if they were going to explode. She had to believe the man had brought her there for a reason other than simply to choke her to death. She hung onto this theory, fighting to stay alive. White fuzz was forming around her vision, the end nearing.
Then the pressure around her throat let up. She coughed and gulped in air.
“Now as much as I enjoyed that,” the cop said, “your pain is not for me to decide, but for your son.”
Hearing him mention Aaron was like having a bucket of cold water splashed o
ver her. “You leave my son out of this.”
“Oh, I’m afraid he’s very much in this.”
“What have you done to him?”
“Today? Nothing,” he said, nonchalantly.
He’d done something to Aaron. She knew it. “If you’ve touched a hair on his head, I’ll kill you.”
The cop sighed. “So typical…”
“You leave him alone.”
The cop turned away and slowly paced the room.
“You know,” he began, “after you treated me so horribly—a man of the law—I wanted to punish you. I was so angry, and doing things when you’re angry is not wise. So I decided to wait a few days, maybe even weeks. However long it took. Then a few days after our encounter, fate intervened. I was introduced to your son, Aaron. Do you know how delighted I was to see that you had a son on parole? How our penal system turned him around? He’s an odds beater. Prison does such bad things to people. Changes them.”
“Please, I’ll do whatever you want,” Kelly begged, hating herself for doing so. But she needed to do something.
“You should have thought about that before you treated me like a piece of shit stuck on the bottom of your shoe. I’m a man of the law and deserve respect.”
“I’m sorry. I was drunk. I—”
Kelly’s words ended when the cop’s fingers closed around her throat. He’d been across the room one second and at her bedside the next. Breath wouldn’t come. She panicked and her body responded without her accord—writhing and squirming with no purpose. She overcame her distress by realizing she needed to be in control of herself. Though she knew it was useless, she tugged on her bonds, trying to reach the man’s arms. She arched her back, trying anything to get a little air, but there was nothing she could do. The cop had all the power. Her body’s natural reaction to needing air was little different to her controlled actions. Both proved ineffective.
He lowered his face to hers and gazed into her eyes. His pupils were like endless voids of crazy and she could’ve sworn she saw the Devil. She closed her eyes and let go. Her muscles relaxed and she lay still, fighting with everything she had not to panic. She told herself he would release her. He didn’t want her dead, at least, not yet.
The pressure let up. She opened her eyes and gasped for air.
“That’s better,” the cop said, as he lightly slapped her on the cheek.
Kelly had a short coughing fit.
“Now this is what’s going to happen…” the cop said.
He stood erect and held a finger up as if checking the direction of the wind. “Your son’s going to show up at six p.m. and rape you, or allow that man over there the honors,” he said, pointing to the man chained to the pipe. He rubbed his chin as if contemplating disappointment. “There is, of course, a third option. He can do neither and go back to prison for murder.”
Kelly flinched.
“Not for murdering you,” the cop said, shaking his head. “I’m going to let you live and watch that little pissant son of yours suffer, and in turn, make you suffer.”
Kelly stared at him, confused and disgusted. She had no idea what the man was talking about, but there was no way her son was going to allow anything to happen to her, let alone rape her. However, she wondered how he was going to get her son accused of murder. Then she remembered she was dealing with a dirty cop. Words were on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to know what his plans were for her son, but talking to the nutjob wasn’t something she wanted to do. She couldn’t show she cared. It would be a frame job, that she was sure. Aaron would never murder anyone.
“You might be in control,” she said, “but there’s no way any of that is going to happen. My son will never hurt me. And he isn’t a murderer, though I’d be more than happy to help him kill you, you deranged fuck.” She gathered as much saliva as possible and launched a ball of spit onto his chest. The cop wiped it off with his finger, then stuck the digit in his mouth and sucked.
“Delicious,” he said. “I can only imagine how wonderful your pussy tastes. Maybe I’ll have you suck Aaron’s dick after he rapes your cunt with it.”
“He’ll never touch me.”
“Knowing him as I do, how swell of a guy he is, I think he just might. But even if he doesn’t, he will pick one of the other two options.”
“I’ll make sure—” Kelly began.
With the speed of a lightning strike, the cop was on her again. But this time, he squeezed her cheeks, forcing her jaw to open. He shoved something into her mouth, then lifted her head and strapped something around it. Letting her go, he stood back and smiled.
Kelly’s mouth flooded with the taste of rubber. Her jaw was unable to close.
“Much better,” the cop said, looking pleased.
Kelly tried pushing out the object, quickly realizing it wasn’t going to come free. She’d been ball-gagged. With the ski mask on and the inability to speak, she couldn’t let her son know it was her on the bed.
Panic took hold of her. She knew what the cop was up to. The bastard had evened the odds. Aaron would never rape someone, that she was sure of. But he wouldn’t know it was her on the bed. His emotions wouldn’t be fully invested. Now she had no idea what was going to happen. Her only real hope was to make solid eye contact, hope for some kind of mother-son psychic connection. It was a long shot, but it was all she had. Unable to lie still, she kicked and moan-screamed, cursing the cop with all she had.
“Oh,” he said, “and if you or he go to the police, FBI or whatever other organization you can think of when this is all over, I’ll make sure Aaron goes back to prison for murder, and never sees the outside again.” He turned and headed to the door, where he hung a small key on a nail, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Kelly yanked on the cuffs, pulling as hard as she could with both her arms and legs, but the only thing she managed to do was bruise her ankles and wrists, the steel cutting into her flesh.
The man with the scar was eyeing her. He remained still, save for his chest, which rose and fell, evenly. Her skin rippled with goose bumps and she looked away. She wanted to close her eyes, but needed to keep the man in her peripheral vision. Even though he was secured to the pipe, she still felt in great danger. She didn’t think such a small chain would be able to hold the man if he really wanted to be free. And even if it did hold, he’d probably just rip the pipe from the wall.
She continued to try and free herself—slip at least one wrist free—but all she did was tire herself out. Deciding the best course of action was to conserve her strength, she lay still and waited. For now, she was a prisoner.
She couldn’t believe it when Aaron walked into the room. She’d begun to hope he wouldn’t show, that the cop had been lying to her. She lifted her head and immediately tried talking, but her words were completely indecipherable. Moans of varying pitch were the best she could do. She widened her eyes, hoping he’d see them, see her, see his mother. He should know them.
But he barely looked at her. He was afraid, timid. Good, she was glad in a way to see that he didn’t want to be there. She knew the cop had somehow forced his hand.
His phone rang and he talked on it for a bit. He was clearly deciding something. She knew it was the cop and thought about what the pig had told her. He was giving Aaron choices. The cop definitely had something on Aaron. Something serious. Even so, her boy wasn’t a rapist. He wouldn’t do it.
But what if he does? The voice in her head said. Maybe he doesn’t want to let that crazy-looking scar-faced motherfucker near you, near anyone.
She tried getting his attention, but he wouldn’t look at her. Tears fell from her eyes, wet her cheeks. If he climbed on her…tried to… She couldn’t think like that, and closed her eyes. Not knowing what else to do, she prayed, asking for a miracle—for her son to be gone when she opened her eyes.
Then she heard a clacking mechanical so
und and knew it was the sound of handcuffs being unlocked.
Opening her eyes, temporary relief flooded through her. Her son wasn’t going to rape her. But then fear and repulsion crept in, mixed with the relief she felt. She wanted to laugh and scream at the same time.
The man with the hideous scar approached, stopping at her bedside. He bent to the floor. She heard a rustling and then he had a knife. He sliced her thigh with it, the pain hot and stinging. She could feel her blood soaking into the mattress below her.
Aaron was standing by the door, watching. Then to her further relief, he closed his eyes and covered his ears. She wondered why he just didn’t leave.
The man with the scar yanked down his pants, revealing a fully erect penis. He ran his hand across her open wound, then lathered his cock with her blood. He stroked himself a few times. A wicked grin spread across his wide mouth, and then the nightmare began, but through it all, until she blacked out, she was grateful it wasn’t her son violating her.
Chapter Seventeen
Aaron shook with rage at hearing his mother’s story. His whole ordeal had been about his mom. The cop had been screwing with him in order to get back at her. And a chance encounter—getting pulled over—had allowed it to happen. Aaron wondered if the cop would’ve simply forgotten about his mom if the fucker hadn’t run into him that morning. If he’d only taken his normal route to work, none of this would’ve happened. Then again, maybe the same shit would’ve happened. Maybe the cop would’ve killed his mother, but had decided it was better to allow her to watch her son suffer.
“Aaron,” his mother said, placing her hand on his.
He came out of his rage-fueled daydream. “He needs to be stopped.”
“I’d love to see him dead,” his mother said. “But we’re not killers. I mean, we’d get caught. The man’s a fucking cop for Christ’s sake. The heat would be extreme.”
“Unless we’re careful,” Aaron said. “Really careful. When he calls me, we meet, and I blow him away, then bury the body. Nobody knows anything but us.”
The Unhinged Page 15
