71 - Fear

Petey leaned against the closed stall door, hiding herself away from the two girls who had come into the bathroom right behind her.    She didn’t feel like being polite or being stared at, and she had information to digest.

He wanted a relationship.

No matter how badly she wanted to remain unaffected, it affected her.  It affected her in a huge way.  That was such a major concession for him, and she had shut him down without a moment’s hesitation.

God, why was he so mean to her?  No wonder Dorothea had divorced him, if this is the way he fought.  There were only so many personal jabs someone could take.  Rationally, she knew he didn’t mean what he was saying, but she still hadn’t firmly ensconced herself back in her Steel Tower of Logic after Wednesday's fiasco.   His insults hurt.

It particularly hurt to think that such things even crossed his mind.  He was only the second man she’d ever had sex with, for Heaven’s sake!  She wasn’t going to jump into someone else’s bed with his touch still burning on her skin.  She didn’t want anybody else.  He was the one who had changed her life.  She wanted him. 

Then why don’t you tell him that?  He implied that he wanted a relationship.  This might be a good time to mention it.

Her heart beat faster.  Did she dare?   Would he snatch the sentiment back if he knew how she felt?

Use logic.  It can apply to emotions in the right context.  You can’t expect him to know how you feel if you don’t tell him.  Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.  And, hello…  He didn’t bring a date tonight.

She inhaled deeply, willing away the butterflies in her stomach.  Did she have enough nerve to do this?  Was there a chance that this could work out?

If there was, Petey wanted to know.  She’d never backed down from him before, and there was no reason to start now.  He’d already done his worst.  He couldn’t hurt her feelings any more than he already had.

She pulled open the stall door, finding that the other women had done their thing and moved on.   Leaning against the vanity, she peered critically into the mirror.

You’re too much for him.  He’s never going to be able to want this version of you.

Yes.  He could.  This was how she looked five minutes ago when he asked about a relationship.  She saw the sparkle of excitement come into the reflection of her eyes, and the color that had previously fled her face was now back in full force.  After splashing her neck with cold water, she took a moment to unearth a spritzer from her tiny purse.   A few squirts had her doused in the cotton candy scent he seemed to like so much.

You can do this.  He’s going to want you, and you’re going to kiss the stuffing out of him so that he knows how much you want him.

One more sharply exhaled breath, and Petey pulled open the ladies’ room door, placing one determined foot over the threshold.

I hope he’s still out here, she thought.  Her eyes automatically darted toward the alcove where they’d been talking a moment ago.  No Jon.

That’s okay.  Right now I’m feeling brave enough to pull him out of that room, no matter who's in there.

She had taken, literally, two steps toward the private function room when an arm viced itself painfully around her waist and a smothering hand clamped over her mouth.  Petey's scream was muffled against the sweaty palm, but she kicked viciously, using her spiked heels to their best advantage by planting one in the top a black wingtip shoe.

A stifled grunt of pain preceded the angry hiss of, “Darling...stop your thrashing!”

Oh my God, it's Daniel.  He's found me.

She resorted to throwing elbow jabs when he used his excessive height to lift her from the floor, and her feet flailed uselessly as she was dragged out a side door, into the cold winter night.  Relentlessly trying to free herself, one of her elbows finally caught him in the solar plexus.  He had no choice but to release her.  Daniel dropped her to the ground, where she teetered precariously until he cruelly gripped her shoulders and shoved her up against the brick exterior of the club.

He bent so that his hawkish nose was practically in her face.  “Is that any way to greet your fiancé?” A drop of saliva splattered against Petey's cheek from from the harshly bitten words.

Sequestered in the shadow of the street lights, the rough surface of the brick found her skin, chilling her even through the suede of the dress.  The night was near frigid and her breath was clearly visible in the air around them when she spat, “Fuck you.”

His tweed cloaked forearm immediately came to rest across her throat with enough pressure to keep her body flush against the building.  “That is not language befitting of a lady.”

“I never was a lady, according to you.”

“No.”  He made a point of looking at the deep vee neckline of her dress, which exposed her entire sternum, and sneered at the fleshy bounty left exposed by the spiderweb of leather over her breasts.  “And now the rest of the world knows it as well, seeing as you've clearly allowed your inner whore to run rampant.  You’ll have to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases before I permit you back into my bed.  If I permit you into my bed.”

She stomped her heel into his foot again, satisfied when a strangled cry of pain was wrenched  its way into the biting air.  “Never going to happen.  Now, it’s cold and I'm getting angry, Daniel.  Get off of me!”

“Hold still you little harlot!  If you had contacted me as I requested, then I wouldn't have been forced to act like a common miscreant,” he informed her pointedly, showing no inclination to release her.  

Glaring directly into what she knew to be milky gray eyes, she flatly informed him, “There was no reason, you insufferable prig, because I'm not giving it to you.”

The arm across her windpipe exerted an extra measure of force and Petey grunted as her airway grew uncomfortably obscured.

“Yes.  You are.  Even better, you’re coming back home where you belong.  Everyone will be so happy to see you after the extended illness that forced you to seek treatment in Europe.  The faculty has been relaying their wishes for a swift recovery,” he mocked.

She laughed with what little air she could draw.  “You’ve finally lost your mind... because... the only way that... will come to pass is in... your vivid hallucinations.  You’ll never... have control over me again you stupid... son of a bitch.”

The sharp ‘crack´ echoed in the night air when the back of his hand connected with Petey’s mouth.  “This is how I should have dealt with you all along.  Mollycoddling you and feigning respect got me nowhere – with you or your family.” 

Fury warmed her from the inside out and, though raspy, her voice was formidable when warning, “Do not lay another... hand on me.  You’re not getting it.  The patent came through about... six months ago, and it’s mine.  Let me repeat Daniel – you… are… not… getting it.”

“Oh, but Darling…”  He put his face right up in hers and Petey wrinkled her nose with disgust.   His breath stank of stale coffee and the God-awful pipe tobacco that he favored.  “That’s where you’re wrong.  I will get it, and you'll give it quite willingly.  You'll be more than delighted to present it as a wedding gift to your dear, dear husband.  You will sign over all rights and sign an affidavit stating that it was all mine to begin with.”

“I repeat – fuck you.”

He laughed nastily.  “No, I believe you were – as you so expressively put it – fucking the man who sings to hormonal women for a living.”  The screen of his phone glowed eerily in the shadows when he shoved it in front of her face, and Petey instinctively squinted against the brightness.  Once her pupils had constricted enough to compensate for the harsh light, she was able to clearly decipher the image.

Her stomach heaved.

It was a picture of Petey and Jon - in her bed. They'd only had sex one time in her bed – the day he’d bound her arms and legs and dominated her in near anger. 

The small screen clearly displayed Jon in the process of tying the second stocking, binding her thigh and elbow together.  Both of their faces were clearly visible in the shot, and his expression was fierce.  From all outward appearances, he was binding her against her will.  The helpless, doe-eyed look on Petey's face only served to reinforce the fallacy. 

“How did... you get that,” she breathed when she was, at last, able to speak.

“I see I have your attention now,” he mocked cruelly.  “You aren’t nearly as clever as you would have the world believe, Ms. Diehl.  After you so rudely changed residences, I began loitering around that… homosexual neighbor’s apartment.  My patience and temerity finally paid off when you came to see him several days ago.  I followed you.” 

Daniel’s nostrils flared as he snorted.  “What a frivolously long, wasted day outside that salon while you cultivated your prostitute fashion – or so I thought.  After it was over and I discovered you and Mister Bon Jovi quibbling in front of your apartment, I circled the building and located the fire escape.  Did you know that there's a landing just outside your bedroom window?  I found it to be quite fortuitous.

“There are more, if you’d like to see them."  His thumb flicked across the screen as he belittled, "You find it arousing, no doubt.”

Petey lost count of how many images there were.  After the first few, they all swam together in a convoluted blur of sex and bondage. With Jon Bon Jovi.

“We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union…”

The phone disappeared into his pocket and he delivered another backhanded blow across her mouth.  “Stop that incessant drivel!  Do you know how annoying and embarrassing it is?  You sound autistic!"

Just give it to him, Petey.  Make this go away.

“What do you want?” she whispered, sagging against the wall as much as his imprisonment would permit.  Petey no longer felt the chill on her skin, just the fearful ice in her veins.  “What will make those pictures disappear?”

Sensing her surrender, he eased his arm away from her throat and straightened his jacket with a smug, self-satisifed grin in place. 

“You will return and take our engagement to its natural conclusion - in a manner that your family will find convincing.  You will give me what I want, and all all of the accompanying legal rights.  You will then resume the life you’re supposed to be living.”  He curled his lip with distaste.  “The life of a respectable woman, not a filthy whore.  Once that has all been completed to my satisfaction, the photographs will be obliterated.”

Everything I’ve spent my entire life trying to escape, and it’s back – just like that.  All because I indulged in a little fantasy with a rock star.  A rock star who stands to have his precious reputation sullied if I don’t come to heel like an obedient puppy.  

Defeat washed over her, the throbbing of her lip a painful taunt that he held the upper hand..  There was nothing else to be done.  “I need some time.” 

“You have one week.  The spring semester begins a week from tomorrow and your students will be waiting.” 

One week.  She had one week before Petey died a pitiful and silent death.  One week before a vital piece of her was effectively murdered.

“Fine.  Now go away.”

She had no idea how long she stood there shivering in the shadows of 84 Park.  It could have been hours, or it could have been seconds.  What did it really matter?