R. Lilley - Rock Bottom

Our drama, or Dean, had cleared this room completely.  It was the closest I thought we’d get to being alone.

I looked up at him and whispered quietly, “I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, just blinked, and didn’t say a word, just staring at me.  I had no idea if he heard me.

“How could you do that, Danika?  How could you just send Jerry here with those divorce papers without even giving me a chance to talk to you?”

“I sent Jerry with those papers and a letter.  I told you I’d meet with you, if you wanted to try to work things out.  Didn’t you read the letter?  All you had to do was go to rehab, Tristan, but instead you just signed those papers.  We both made this mess.  You can’t put it all on me.”

He threw his arms in the air, the muscles in his chest and stomach working with the motion.  That had set him off.  “A letter?  Bullshit!  There was no fucking letter!”

I shook my head, again and again.  Was he just so out of it that he didn’t remember?

“There was,” I whispered, feeling woozy suddenly.  I shook my head, but that just made the feeling worse.

Carefully, I set the orange juice down.

I would remember that it was half-full exactly as I studied it.  I didn’t touch it again.

Something was wrong with me.

“Tristan, I don’t feel well.  I don’t think I’m okay to drive.  I need to lie down.”

“Dean, will you fucking take her home?” he shouted.  He pointed at me, his mouth shaped into a snarl.   “You divorced me.  Did you forget?”  he said, yet again.  “You got yourself stranded?  Not my problem.”

I just kept shaking my head.

Tristan turned to the wall, punched it three times, leaving a gaping hole, then stumbled from the room.

Tears seeped slowly from my eyes as I lay back against couch and let my lids drift slowly closed.  I just couldn’t keep them open for another second.

DANIKA

I started slightly as I felt a hand on my arm.

“Come on, Danika.  I’ll take you home.”

It was Dean’s voice, and I opened my eyes, but I didn’t quite process what he said.

He helped me sit up, and then stand, and then I was leaning on him as he led me out of the apartment.  I blinked, trying to clear the strange cloud that had come over my mind.

“What’s going on?” I mumbled, struggling not to let my eyes close again.

“I’m just giving you a ride.  Shh, now, you’ll be home in no time, and you can talk to Tristan in the morning, or whenever he sobers up.  He’s a maniac tonight.”

He supported most of my weight as we made our way very slowly, very carefully, down the steps.

“Why are you being so nice tonight?” I asked him, letting my eyes fall closed after he’d helped me, very gently, into the passenger seat of his car.

He didn’t answer, in fact he barely looked at me again as he set my large wedding picture into my lap and shut the door.  I hadn’t even realized that he was carrying it.

I hugged it to my chest and closed my eyes.

The car began to drive, and I struggled to stay awake, as I felt a cold touch on my leg.  I couldn’t tell what it was at first, but I knew that it was wrong.

With effort, I opened my eyes.

Dean’s cold hand was on my thigh.

“What are you doing?” I whispered hoarsely, trying to shift away.

His hand lifted, going back to the steering wheel.  “Shh, go back to sleep.  You’re fine.  I’ll have you home in no time.”  His tone was still soothing.

It was only then that I realized this nice version of Dean was far scarier than the unfiltered prick I was used to, but I was just so drowsy, and my eyes drifted closed again.

I had a thought that made me fight to stay awake, and I opened my eyes again.  “You shouldn’t be driving,” I pointed out.  “You’re drunk.”

He laughed.  “And high as a kite.  We’ve been chasing speedballs with shots of vodka, in honor of our dearly departed Jared.  But don’t you worry about it.  I drive better drunk, so you’re in good hands.  Now go back to sleep.”

I wanted to argue with him, because of course everything he said was asinine, but the effort it took to open my mouth and speak was just too much for me, and I couldn’t get the words out.

His icy fingers moved to grip my leg again, this time higher, and I protested as loudly as I could.  He shoved his hand higher, briefly fingering the edge of my panties, before he pulled away again.

“I know well what’s under there.  You don’t even want to imagine how many times I’ve seen you and Tristan together.  I love your tight little body.  You’re just my favorite kind of girl.  I like them tiny and curvy, with snug little pussies.  I won’t be the fit you’re used to.  Tristan is a beast.  So don’t worry, you’ll probably barely notice a thing in the morning.  And I heard you say you’re pregnant, so you don’t have to worry about that either.

“You’re sick,” I told him.  “I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on the planet.”  I was happy that I’d gotten such a long sentence out.  I was so lethargic, that little spark had felt like an accomplishment.

He gripped my thigh again.  I glared at his sideways smile.

“I really wish you’d finished the glass.  I like you better when you’re not talking.”

“What are you thinking?  Tristan is going to kill you, literally kill you, for this.”

“Maybe if he knew.  Are you gonna tell him?  You realize he’ll be disgusted if he finds out.  He may kill me, but he’ll also never touch you again.”

“I don’t care.  I don’t care.  I’ll tell him so he’ll kill you.  I’ll tell everyone.  You won’t get away with this.”

“That’s if you remember.  I have a feeling that your memory is going to be a bit fuzzy tomorrow, but feel free to speak up tomorrow, if I’m wrong.”  As he spoke, he inched his hand higher, and higher, rubbing and kneading at the skin of my inner thigh.

I kept telling him to stop, but he didn’t listen, shoving his fingers inside my panties, touching where he had no right.

I hadn’t remembered the frame of my photo being so heavy, but it was now, so heavy that I could only manage to pitch it forward, so that it covered my lap, the top edge digging into my abdomen, but at least it blocked my thighs from his roving hand.

He didn’t seem to mind, his hand then going to the open neckline of my dress, and roaming freely over my chest.

“Stop touching me,” I told him, sounding more drowsy than angry, even though inside I was so angry that I was surprised that my rage alone wasn’t enough to give me some strength.

“Hmm, I don’t think I will.  How about you go back to sleep?  As I said, I like you so much better quiet.”

“I hate you,” I whispered, raising one hand up to try in vain to cover my chest.  There was too much skin exposed, and his hand was so much stronger than my own.

“What are you planning to do?” I said in as loud of a voice as I could manage.  “And why?  Why would you do this?”

He laughed, and it was the usual Dean again.  The nice act was long gone.

“You really want me to tell you?  Okay, if you insist.  It’s not like you’ll remember any of it.  I’ll talk dirty to you, if that’s what does it for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Danika, fuck you.  Here’s what I have planned for you.  We’re going to take a nice long drive out into the desert, about an hour out from the city.  No matter how hard you fight it, you’ll be out by then, dead to the world.”

He twisted my left nipple hard, and just kept twisting, no matter how I batted at his hand.  “You’ll be so out of it that I can do whatever I want to you, however I want it, and you won’t have any recollection of it come morning.  And make no mistake, I have plans for you.”

I could hear the sick smile in his voice as he continued.  “First, I’ll strip you naked.  You won’t even get to keep your shoes on.  All of that will stay in here.  Then, I’ll drag you out of the car, push you facedown, ass up onto the hood.  I’ll spread you wide and fuck your pussy first, because you know I’m dying to know how that feels.  I’ll pull out before I come, because I want to feel your ass too.  I’ll fuck that next.  I won’t use lube.  I don’t mind tearing you up.  You won’t feel a thing, but I like that your body will remember me tomorrow.”

“Fucking sicko,” I bit out, my body starting to shake.  I thought that might be a good sign.  Perhaps the effects of the drug were starting to wear off.

“Whatever.  I’ll come in your ass, or maybe on your lower back.  I don’t like to plan it out, so that’ll be a surprise.  I’ll be sure to leave the mess on you, wherever it is, so you’ll have to clean it up yourself later.  You’ll be so confused.  Maybe you’ll think it’s from Tristan.  Who knows, but one way or another, you’ll have to handle the mess.  After I’m done with that, I’ll lay you out on the ground in front of the car, so the headlights shine on you nice and bright.”

He took his hand off me, finally, as he stopped at a red light.  I had no idea where we were, but at least we weren’t in the desert yet.

“I’ll look at you, every inch of you. I’ll open your legs and look my fill.  I’ll study your body hard, so that, anytime I want, I can close my eyes and remember.  That will take some time, but when that’s done, I’ll shove my dick down your throat.  I’ll shove it as deep as I can, but I won’t get off like that.  You’ll be too out of it to suck me proper, but I want to shove my dirty dick in there either way.  After that, who knows?  Maybe I’ll titty fuck you, maybe I’ll fuck your pussy again.  I’ll see what gets me most excited.  One thing is for sure, I’ll have you at my mercy for hours, and you can’t undo the things I’ll put your body through.  I’ll shove my dirty dick in every orifice, and you won’t say no.”

“When I’m done, I’ll put you back in your clothes and drop you off somewhere.  Maybe the apartment, or maybe I’ll sneak you back into your very own bed.  Does it matter?  You’re going to wake up tomorrow feeling dirtier than you ever have before, and you won’t remember why, but you’ll be too disgusting for Tristan to ever lay a finger on again, because he was in love with you, and you let his best friend use you like a dog.”

“You aren’t his best friend,” I found the voice to say.  “He can’t even stand you anymore.”

That set him off, and he was practically foaming at the mouth as he whirled on me.  “Fuck you!  That’s your fault!”

I was watching his face when it happened.  One second I was at his mercy, and the next, I was at the mercy of fate, as another vehicle crashed into his side of the car.

I remembered spinning and spinning, and when the spinning was over, the pain.

Later I would learn that we’d spun out until my side of the car made solid contact with a telephone pole, caving in my side, though Dean’s half of the car got it far worse.

I was still staring at him, at his crushed, bloody body, his blank, empty eyes, when my side hit.

No one ever had to tell me.  I saw Dean die.

I never so much as asked about him after that.

I remember that my head smashed onto the dashboard.  I remember the windshield breaking, bits of glass embedding itself into the skin of my face, chest, and arms, but that was but a taste as it was followed almost instantly by a burning pain in my stomach that I’d never forget, as the frame in my hands broke into pieces and stabbed into several vital parts of my belly.

I don’t know to this day if I screamed out loud, but deep down in my soul, in the place inside of me that was bursting to be a mother, that pined for it, that lived and breathed for the day that I could give birth to my own child, my own flesh and blood, that part of me screamed, “Nooooo!”

It was quite possible that, somewhere deep down, I never stopped screaming it.

That pain was profound and unforgettable, but the agony of my leg being crushed was what finally, blessedly, made me black out.

When I woke again in the hospital, recovering from multiple surgeries, I didn’t have to ask.

I knew.

I’d lost everything in that car.

Only, even I didn’t know what all that loss entailed.

TRISTAN

I woke with a start.  My head was killing me, bile rising in my throat before I’d even opened my eyes.

I kept those eyes closed for a moment longer, my hands reaching out to feel the naked body beside mine, and then, with something akin to horror, another one, on my other side.