CHAPTER 15
Kevin spotted 'Bushwhackers' at the end of the
block. It seemed crowded and he had to circle the block three times
before he found a parking place only four spaces down from Terry's
silver Porche with the license plate that read 'LAWYRLUV'. Damn,
he hated vanity plates. The clientele at 'Bushwhackers' was hard
to pigeonhole. The people he saw coming and going were a mixed group.
Sophisticated and moneyed types were there along side of leathered
motorcyclists. One such couple exited the club and stepped into
a chauffeur driven limo. An affectionate gay pair lingered outside
of the club and then entered. Body piercings, studded collars and
tattoos kept company with haute couture, summer furs and big jewelry.
Fortunately, the varied array of club goers distracted each other.
No one paid too much attention to the Backstreet Boy and Kevin was
able to go in quietly and without fanfare.
He didn't really have a plan, per se. He was just going to check
things out and maybe have a drink or two. If it looked like everything
was okay and Connie wasn't having any problems, he would step
back and give her space. But if that motherfucker Mitchell was
giving her the smallest bit of a hard time, he wouldn't hesitate
to intervene. Connie was a smart woman but stubborn. Kevin suspected
that, in many ways, Connie was a strong woman, too, but there
was something about her that he couldn't quite grasp. There was
an air of vulnerability about her. She came across as a woman
of confidence who also had a fairly thick skin but Kevin sometimes
felt that she was hiding something that caused her pain or humiliation
- that her sassy demeanor was more of a cover than a character
trait, not that it still didn't drive him nuts. Kevin shook his
head. He didn't believe in psychic connections or intuition but
some force was at work here. He felt compelled to be here tonight
and wondered if maybe he was going a little crazy…
It took a few minutes for Kevin's eyes to adjust to the dimness
of the room. If there had been more light he would have been looking
for red hair. As it was, he would have to search tables and the
dance floor person by person. There were easily 500 - 600 people
here tonight. Kevin ordered a bourbon from the bar and began to
slowly make his rounds.
***************
Terry Mitchell wasn’t even attempting seduction. Connie had
been agreeable and friendly until they got onto the dance floor
and then she had become cold. She wasn’t a child, for God’s sake,
and Terry was growing tired of her ‘damsel in distress’ routine.
Somewhere in his swollen ego he had decided that Connie wanted
and even expected sex - he was sure of it. She was playing games
with him now, acting like she wanted him to stop. She wants
me to push her - she gets off on that… He was willing to bet
that Connie liked it a little rough, which was fine by him. He
could be rough. She must like variety, too. Terry had heard
a rumor that morning through an MTV contact in promotions that
Pete had a tape of her and Richardson together. Shit! What he
wouldn’t give to see that! He’d always heard that redheads were
fiery and emotional creatures. Hey, he could do worse than getting
Richardson’s leftovers….
Connie felt like she hadn’t taken a breath in hours. Her thoughts
were a jumbled with disbelief and fear, and with images of Trevor
and Kevin. Trevor…..he hurt me like this…. When Trevor
Abbott had first come into her life, he had been suave and witty,
like Terry. Early on, Connie had discovered that a common side
effect of deafness was rejection - so much so that non-hearing
people had, over time, formed their own sub-culture in this country.
Trevor had broken through her firewall and after a while had restored
her confidence and gained her trust. She had grown to depend on
him emotionally and when that happened, he had her. That was when
his cruelty surfaced and took over her life. There were times
when he was almost sociopathic. She had lived in fear for months
before she found the courage to run.
Connie continued to fight Terry. Her eyes had closed, willing
him away. She was relying on instinct. Why doesn’t somebody
come back here? Why can’t anybody hear me? Help me! Please….
There were hundreds of people close by. Connie could feel the
vibrations of the music in the wall behind her. Terry’s hands
were under her top now, squeezing and pulling at her breasts.
She could feel his hot breath against her throat and smell the
herbal scented shampoo he had used in his hair. She didn’t know
if he was saying anything to her or not. Even if her eyes were
open she wouldn't know because he had pulled at her top and stretched
it down over her shoulder, burying his face into her breasts as
he continued to pull it lower. Her nipples had hardened long ago,
not from excitement but fear, yet she didn't cry out any more
because her shouts had been replaced by sobs. Her remaining senses
detected five separate sensations - the vibration of her top being
ripped, the pressure of his thumb rubbing against her nipple,
the spongy heat of his tongue licking at her body, the movement
of a hand traveling up her bare thigh, raising her skirt and,
finally, his rhythmic grinding against her body. Oh God… Is
he really going to rape me? He was humping her now and Connie
was helpless to stop him. She was helpless to stop anything. Help
me…please….
****************
They had to be here somewhere. Kevin kept his eyes and ears
open as he traveled the perimeter of the room. He felt amazingly
focused in spite of the crowd and the noise as he continued to
glance back and forth between the tables and the dance floor.
Kevin had cruised the room twice with no luck and decided to find
a spot against a wall near the bathrooms where he could watch
and wait. His imagination was beginning to get out of control
and as the seconds ticked by, he found it difficult to ignore
the uneasy feelings that washed over him. He could see the entrance
to the club from where he stood. Connie and Terry had not left
and there was nothing else in the area that would have attracted
their interest. Where were they?
The bathrooms were busy. Beer and alcohol had a way of testing
the limits of the plumbing in places like this and finally Kevin
moved from the ‘full bladder’ crowd to a less conspicuous spot
next to a door marked 'Fire Exit'. He hadn't been standing there
long when an amorous couple approached. They paid no attention
to Kevin. They were too drunk and wrapped up in each other.
"Come on baby.." the guy said. "It's quiet in here. We can be
alone…"
The girl giggled and pushed open the door, holding it for her
stumbling companion. Kevin noticed that there was little light
behind the door and wondered for a brief moment if this really
was a fire exit or if that was just a euphemism for 'sex space'.
The girl stopped suddenly when she was halfway through the door
causing her boyfriend to bump into her back.
"Oh… sorry.."
Kevin smirked. Obviously, the 'fire exit' was occupied. Then
he heard another voice - a voice that made his blood run cold.
A voice he recognized. Mitchell….
"GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE, ASSHOLE!"
********************
Connie's body was pinned up against the wall. She hadn't seen
the other couple at the door - she hadn't opened her eyes. She
couldn't. Sheer terror had frozen her and she had begun to hyperventilate.
She could feel her skirt up around her waist now and Terry's hands
tugging at her panties. No..no..no..no..no…..
And then, she was suddenly free. Terry's hands weren't on her
anymore, groping her and pinning her to the wall. She was still
gasping for air as she felt her body moving down the vinyl paper
that covered the wall, making a soft whistling noise as she slid
to the floor. Connie collapsed there, still paralyzed except for
the trembling that had seized her so violently that she could
feel her bare shoulder tapping against the floor. She didn't see
Kevin's fists flying furiously into Terry's gut and up against
his face. She didn't see the shock and fear that had registered
in Terry's eyes or hear Kevin's screams when he had discovered
Terry violating her, hurting her. She wasn't aware of the blood
pouring down Terry's cheek or of Kevin's temporary insanity. She
wasn't aware of anything until she felt two hands under her arms,
lifting her gently and pulling her onto a lap. Two arms wrapped
themselves around her and held her against a broad, familiar shoulder.
Connie soon felt herself being rocked. Fingers were pushing wisps
of hair out of her eyes and she felt the sweet pressure of lips
on the side of her face. Her fingers curled tightly aound the
neckline of his wifebeater. I'm safe…..
After a few moments, Connie opened her eyes. She had felt him
before she saw him. Kevin…. He was watching her intently,
his brows furrowed in concern. Fresh tears began to fill her eyes.
"I'm sorry.." she whispered. "I should have listened…"
Kevin pressed his finger to her lips, shushing her and pulled
her closer. Connie could feel him speaking into the side of her
face, near her ear and for the first time in a long, long time,
she ached for the ability to hear again - to be able to hear Kevin's
murmurs and comforting phrases. Over the years, she had come to
realize that only two of the five senses could sooth the soul
and they were hearing and touch. One could never replace the other.
After a minute, he held her away from his body and forced her
to look into his face.
"What did he do to you, Connie? Tell me. Tell me now."
Connie looked away from Kevin, aware of what a mess she must
be. She found it hard to face him.
"I'm okay… "
Kevin's hand pushed her chin back and she had to look at him
again.
"Did he put his hands on you?"
Connie felt swept over with guilt. Trevor always said it
was my fault….. Again, she felt as if she couldn't fill her
lungs and she began to breathe heavily, panting her explanations.
"I didn't want him to, Kevin. Please believe me, I hated his
hands on me! I begged him to stop but he wouldn't! He wouldn't
stop! He wouldn't…."
Kevin grabbed her again and held her against him. Jesus,
she thinks I'm blaming her for this. She thinks this is her fault….
She thinks I'm angry with her… He could feel her hot and shameful
tears falling onto his chest, mixing with his perspiration. Kevin
got a vivid glimpse into the reasons why so many women fail to
press charges against their violators. Culture has trained them
to be victims. He tried to remain calm but his breathing had accelerated,
too. Terry Mitchell had crawled away like the slug he was. It
was probably a good thing. At that moment, Kevin could have killed
him.
"Please, take me home…" Connie whimpered against him. "Please…"
Kevin pulled her up from him. He noticed that she had not let
go of his shirt. Her knuckles had grown white clutching the thin
fabric.
"Let me look at you first, baby. Let's see if you need a doctor.."
Connie had watched his mouth and her eyes grew wide. She became
agitated and started to shake he head.
"NO!" she cried out. "No more hands on me! Please! No more!
No more! Please, Kevin! Don't make me! Please!"
Kevin's heart broke at her fear and he fought to bring her back
from the edge of hysteria. He put his hands on either side of
her face and spoke directly to her.
"Okay, Connie.. Okay. Don't cry… Please, baby. I won't let anybody
touch you, alright?" Connie nodded but Kevin wasn't finished.
If she was hurt, she would need help. He didn't know what that
son of a bitch had done to her or how far he had gone. "Let me
look at you Connie. Let me make sure you're okay and then we can
go home."
Connie's face was still between Kevin's large hands. He can
touch me. That would be alright. But no one else. No one else….
She squeezed her eyes shut and gave him a slight nod. Kevin began
by raising her arms, looking for bad cuts or scrapes. His hands
moved gently over her shoulders to the torn fabric of her top.
He pulled the material back and examined her lace-covered breasts.
He saw two scratch marks and ran his finger over them lightly.
Kevin tried to remain collected but the scratches had upset him.
He glanced at Connie's face and found that she was staring at
him, expressionless. His eyes fell back to her chest. A bra strap
had been broken. Kevin lifted her top slowly and checked her abdomen.
There were small bruises on each side of her waist. The he turned
her around to check her back. Again there were some scrapes and
bruises. What he could see of her legs seemed all right.
There was still one area left to examine and Kevin prayed silently
that he would find no evidence showing that Connie had been penetrated.
He laid her across his lap and began to raise her skirt. He looked
at her, a little surprised at her compliance but noticed that
her fist was now closed tightly around the hem of his shirt as
if she were afraid to let go. He suppressed a moan when the bruises
on the inside if her thighs came into view. He raised the skirt
higher. Her lavender lace panties had been torn on side and pulled
down a little, revealing the edges of red pubic hair. Still, they
seemed to be generally intact.
She sat on the floor for a moment as Kevin slid himself from
under her and stood. Then he reached down and pulled her to a
standing position, catching her around the waist when her legs
threatened to go out from under her. Connie leaned into him and
they left the club through the fire exit, coming out onto the
street just a few feet from Kevin's truck. He helped Connie into
the front seat and pulled a blanket out of the back before climbing
into the driver’s side. Connie still looked numb and shaken so
Kevin draped the blanket around her, wishing that there was no
separation between them in the front seat He took a moment to
stroke her hair and she turned to look at him.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "I'm tired…" she said, leaning into his hand. They
locked eyes for a moment. "Thank you, Kevin…" she offered him
and weak attempt at a smile.
"I'm just glad I was there, Connie…"
"Me, too…" she sighed.
Kevin pulled out onto the street and headed back to Clearwater.
When he stopped at a light, he glanced at Connie and once more
found that she was staring at him. She looked like a tired child.
Kevin patted his leg - an invitation for her to rest her head
on him. It didn't take much encouragement. Connie laid her body
across the seat and placed the side of her face on Kevin's thigh.
She felt his fingers brushing her hair again as he drove. It was
too bad she couldn't hear him softly singing to her, too.
CHAPTER 16
Although it wasn’t that late when Kevin and Connie got home, the
house was quiet. Kevin was glad that they wouldn’t have to make
any explanation about what had happened tonight. His arm was around
her waist, still offering support. Kevin thought she still felt
a little wobbly. When they reached the staircase, Connie pulled
away and took her support from the banister.
“Kevin,” she asked quietly. “Why did you come back tonight?”
She had reached the fourth step and paused to look at him standing
below her. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”
Kevin shrugged his shoulders and looked a little embarrassed.
“I don’t know, really. I didn’t plan to. I just felt like I was
needed here, that’s all.”
Connie nodded and then continued to make her way up the staircase.
“I guess you were…” she said over her shoulder.
Kevin bounded up the stairs that separated then and took her
arm.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Connie? You look a little shaky still…”
“I’m okay” she answered patting his hand. “I just feel tired
and dirty. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
“I’ll check on you later.”
“You don’t have to, Kevin. I’m fine…”
“I want to.” He answered firmly. His brows were lowered
again.
Connie nodded, sensing that protest would get her nowhere.
Kevin sat on the edge of his bed, waiting. He had taken a quick
shower and slipped into a clean pair of boxers. He could see through
the crack in his door that Connie’s door was closed. Light poured
through the transom. She was still awake. He had decided to wait
for thirty minutes before going to check on her and he kept his
eye on the time, watching the minutes pass. At last he stepped
across the hall and tapped lightly on her door. There was no answer.
“Connie?” he called softly. “Is everything all right?”
When he got no response, he tried the knob. The door was open
and he peeked into the room. He could hear water pouring from
the shower but there was something else, too = a kind of choking,
gasping noise hidden under the pounding of running water. Kevin
didn’t think before he came into Connie’s room. He looked around
for a few seconds and saw a long, white gauze gown lying across
the end of her bed. He instinctively picked it up and held it
to his face, breathing in the scent of soap and listened again.
He just heard water, now. He had never really been in here before
and took a few moments to absorb some impressions of the enigma
named Constance O’Rourke. He went to the dresser and picked up
a small bottle. It looked like it was made of cut crystal and
when he uncapped it the enticing smell of springtime wafted over
him. Hyacinth…. Kevin recapped the bottle and put it back
in its place. He ran his fingers over the bristles of her brush
and picked up a thin chain. The necklace had a small pendant attached
to it - a diamond solitaire. Kevin wondered if it was a gift from
a male admirer. He glanced over his shoulder and listened. The
water still ran. A small red light started blinking on Connie’s
computer, capturing his attention. A list of e-mails waiting to
be answered filled the screen. Kevin’s eyes ran quickly down the
list of subjects. Most had to with editing concerns and there
were a few that seemed more personal. The one that caught his
eye was from Stephen Sullivan. The subject read ‘About your Clearwater
replacement….’ Kevin couldn’t ignore the sick feeling in the pit
of his stomach. He cast his eyes down to the floor. That’s when
he saw the trashcan. It needed emptying but on the top of the
pile were the clothes Connie had worn to the club tonight - all
of them. Lavender lace peeked through folds of rust and black.
Kevin’s eyes moved across the hardwood floor to the bathroom
door. The water still ran. It was then that he noticed the clouds
of steam puffing out from under the door. He looked up through
the bathroom transom only to see a white fog. Jesus Christ……
Kevin jumped to the door and started pounding.
“Connie? Are you all right?” There was no answer and Kevin began
to panic. “CONNIE!” Still quiet. Kevin tried the knob. The door
was locked and he started pulling at the knob and shouting. “Connie,
if you don’t answer me, I’m coming in there, do you hear me? CONNIE?”
It didn’t take much effort for Kevin to force his way through
the door. He could barely see across the room through the steam
and everything was wet with condensation.
“CONNIE?”
Kevin jerked open the door to the tiled stall and found Connie
sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees which
were pulled up to her chest. Her face was pressing against her
knees, her long hair plastered to her back by the hot water. She
rocked slowly, unaware that Kevin was bearing down on her.
“Shit, Connie! What are you doing? You’re gonna burn yourself!”
he screamed. His hands were instantly on the shower knobs, cutting
off the water supply.
The sudden absence of the hot spray caused Connie to raise her
head. She was surprised to see Kevin standing there and seemingly
unconcerned about her nakedness. She didn’t try to move or cover
herself. Kevin spun around and grabbed a large towel that lay
folded on the vanity, stepped into the shower and knelt down beside
her, lifting her arms and wrapping the towel around her overly
pink body. His face was covered with a mask of worry and he chewed
on his bottom lip. He appeared to be concentrating on wrapping
her and did not look at her face until she spoke to him.
“What’s wrong, Kevin?” she asked calmly. “Has something happened?”
Kevin slowly met her gaze, not believing she had asked the question.
She had scared him to death. Her eyes were red. She had been crying
again. He guessed that she must be going through some sort of
after shock following the sordid events of the evening and tried
to remain calm.
“You’ve been in here a long time. I was getting worried.”
Connie looked at him, puzzled. “ But I’m really, really dirty,
Kevin. I needed to get clean…”
Kevin pulled her wrapped body from the floor. “You’re not dirty,
Connie. But you are tired. It’s time to get some sleep…”
Connie nodded as Kevin led her to the bed and sat her down.
He took a second towel and she let him dab at the beads of water
on her shoulders and neck before towel drying her hair. She looked
as if she was sunburned. She sat still, surrendering to his care.
They didn’t speak. Then Connie felt lightweight fabric floating
across her back. Kevin was pulling the gown over her head. She
pushed her arms through the capped sleeves before Kevin brought
her to her feet. He reached under the gauze and loosened the towel
so that it dropped from her body. He had not exposed her.
Kevin’s gentleness tonight had amazed Connie. She had often
wondered if he did have a softer side. She never expected to see
it much less be it’s recipient. Kevin pulled the covers back on
her bed and motioned for her to get in. The he covered her, said
goodnight and walked to the door. When he glanced at her once
more, he saw that she was staring at the ceiling wide eyed. She
had started to tremble again. She turned her head to look at him
when she felt his eyes on her.
“Connie, if you need anything tonight - anything at all - you
come get me, okay?”
He watched her nod feebly.
“I mean it. My door’s open. You come get me.”
Connie attempted a smile. “You told me not to come into your
door ever again..”
Kevin sighed and looked at the floor. “I was an asshole, okay?”
“Okay..” she agreed.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You could have argued
that point a little bit…” Kevin smiled. “Anyway…” his face became
serious again, “I really do mean it.” With that, Kevin left Connie’s
room, making sure to leave her door cracked.
*******************
Connie lay in the semi darkness of her room trying desperately
not to recall Terry’s attack at the club or it’s aftermath. She
was powerless to stop her thoughts. She remembered an old psychological
trick that a teacher had played on her class in junior high. “Now
I want everyone of you to sit quietly at your desks and whatever
you do, DO NOT think of a pink rose…” Naturally, that was
all any of them could think about. She played the same trick on
herself now. For an hour she tried to think about other things
and just became more restless. She felt so tired but what was
more painful is that she felt so alone. The silence that surrounded
her now seemed to taunt her and although her desire for peace
and rest was strong, her need to be held again was stronger. She
gazed at the narrow thread of light that poured into her room
from the hallway and argued with herself.
He told you to come to him if you needed anything…
Not that! I can’t go to him for that..
He said - ‘anything’!
What would I say?
You don’t have to say anything.
What would he think?
He’ll think that you need him.
But it’s over! I’m okay. I don’t need him..
You don’t need anybody, do you Connie?
No, I don’t.
You need him to hold you tonight. That’s all - just hold you.
I can’t! He doesn’t even like me. He feels sorry for me now
- that’s why he’s being nice!
You mean you ‘won’t’. Maybe he does like you a little. He checked
up on you, didn’t he?
Connie’s rationalizations were getting her nowhere. Maybe she
would just peek into his room and see if he was awake. Maybe they
could just talk for a bit and that would calm her down. Maybe
she would even tell him about her deafness.
********************
Kevin seemed mesmerized by the slow circles made by the fan
attached to the ceiling. He thought about what had happened at
the club and cringed to think what might have happened if he had
decided to stay in Orlando. He couldn’t remember the last time
fury had flown into him like it had tonight. Connie had been literally
frozen in terror and her crusty cover had been blown to bits.
He was shocked that she had let him examine her tonight - that
she had trusted him to that degree. He doubted that she would
have let anyone else near her then. Was it because he had rescued
her or could it possibly go deeper than that? They had shared
a profound intimacy tonight, not just at the club but just a little
while ago, too. It was not a sexual intimacy. Kevin didn’t quite
know how to describe it but it had completely pulled him inside
out. There had been a connection and his comfortable, predictable
and easy life had turned 180 degrees. He felt it in his gut. Connie
O’Rourke had become thoroughly entrenched under his skin.
He knew she was there even before he turned his head. Moonlight
bounced off of the whiteness of her gown and reflected on her
face. Her hair parted naturally down the middle of her head and
fell in loose curls halfway to her waist. They looked at each
other for a moment, neither of them speaking and then Kevin reached
to the empty side of his bed and pulled the covering back with
one deliberate motion - a clear invitation for her to lay down
with him.
.
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