Unbreakable (24 page)

Malcolm was seated at a sticky coffee table with Gwen sitting next to him as he played poker with several Rivermen baseball players.

"You want another beer?" Gwen asked, reaching high above her head and stretching the kinks out of her shoulders. She still had a strong buzz going, though things weren't quite as fuzzy as they had been a couple of hours earlier.

Malcolm took the opportunity to drop his cards and tickle her stomach. To his delight, Gwen giggled wildly as he tortured her. "Sure," he chuckled and reached to tickle her underarms where he knew his actions would have their most devastating effect. "But only if you're getting one for yourself."

"Ugh!" She finally wiggled free, then leaned over and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, then lips, feeling more uninhibited than she could remember. A large portion of the smoke had cleared, and although the music was still pounding, the crowd had thinned to the point that she felt like she could breathe again. She also noticed another very strong sensation. "You'll have to wait for your beer now. After all that tickling, I have to use the bathroom." She blushed fiercely when Malcolm lifted his eyebrows.

"Do you want me to walk you up?"

I'm in love with him
, she thought giddily.
It's only been a few weeks, but it's true.
Gwen laughed, having more fun than she had in ages. "No, silly." Her gaze drifted to the stairwell. The line to the bathroom was gone. "I saw Phyllis from my Western Civilization class heading up there a few minutes ago, but I haven't seen her since. There must still be a line upstairs." She giggled inwardly.
Or she and that short boy with the glasses are going at it hot 'n heavy in one of the bedrooms.

Malcolm looked doubtful. "You're sure? I can–"

"Come on, Malcolm!" the other card players moaned. "You're holding up the game, man," the second basemen said. "For Christ's sake, let her go pee on her own. She's not that drunk."

Malcolm began to bristle but was quickly soothed by Gwen standing and affectionately ruffling his hair. "I'll be back after I wait in the never ending line from hell."

He grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze before letting go and focusing on his cards. "If you're not back in 30 minutes, I'll look for the puddle," he called after her, his eyes on a pair of aces. The game's other players laughed loudly.

Sure enough, there was a line for the bathroom, but it was blessedly short and consisted of total strangers.

"They fixed the bathroom downstairs," one of the women told the other.

Gwen nodded a little. No wonder the line here had dwindled to nothing. "Lucky us."

Happily, the souls in front of her were quick to do their business, and in only a few minutes she was at the head of the line with no one behind her to talk to.

Two more minutes, and a husky woman with the biggest hair Gwen had ever seen, staggered from the bathroom.

"Careful," Gwen warned the woman as she nearly collided with her.

"Whoops!" Rubber-legged, the woman swerved to miss Gwen, then fell with a mighty thud. "Ouch," she said slowly. She glanced around, clearly confused. "Why am I on the floor?"

Gwen smothered a snort. "You fell. Are you okay?"

"I think so."

Gwen bent unsteadily to help her, making certain the woman had a good hold of the stair railing before her bladder, protesting loudly, forced her to hurry back toward the bathroom door. Gwen's hand had just clasped the cool metal of the doorknob when she felt two warm arms wrap around her and a stubbly cheek nuzzle her neck from behind.

She smiled. Being in love was, she decided, everything she'd hoped it would be. "Decided you had to go too, huh? God, don't squeeze too hard, Malcolm. I'll have an accident," she chuckled. "I swear." She took a step into the bathroom expecting him to let go. Instead, she was followed inside and she let out a surprised laugh. "You can't come in here with me. That's gross."

Gwen glanced down at the arms that were still wrapped snuggly around her trim waist. A dark sweatshirt covered them. It took only a second for it to register that Malcolm hadn't been wearing long sleeves. Her heart leapt into her throat. "Mal–"

She screamed as she was shoved headfirst all the way inside the small room. The room went black as the harsh florescent lights were flicked off and a strong hand slammed her head against the tank of the porcelain commode.

Her world exploded in pain.

"Shhh," a low voice hissed, the sound dancing at the ragged edges of her awareness.

Stars invaded her vision for several long seconds as fingers dug into her neck and she felt salty sweat from the tank dampen her cheek and trickle downward. She blinked dazedly, her head swimming as she clung to consciousness. Was that blood she tasted? "Puh... Uh... Ungh."

Gwen tried to bring a shaking hand to her forehead. Then she weakly pushed up from her belly-down position on the toilet. But on her way up, her wrist was instantly grasped and a heavy body molded itself to her back, threatening to send her to her knees. She screamed again as she tried to turn around, but the fingers moved from her wrist to wind themselves into her hair.

She sucked in a breath when her head was savagely yanked backwards, the skin on her face pulled tight enough to expose her bloody teeth.

"Bitch." The word was spoken harshly, directly into her ear, hot breath raising the hairs on the back of her neck, before the hot breath disappeared.

"No!" she cried, panic hitting her full force. But she only had time to gasp before she felt more than heard a low growl. Her face was slammed against the tank lid again. The loud crunch of her mouth and nose against the porcelain caused her stomach to lurch and this time the dancing stars couldn't be blinked away.

Her breathing came in short pants as she tasted her own blood and smelled urine and beer. One of her arms was twisted high on her back and she squealed in pain, the searing sensation snapping her mind in better focus. "What… why are doing this?" She thought she'd said the words out loud, but she couldn't hear them over her thundering heart.

Fingers fumbled over her face until her chin and cheeks were being grasped so tightly that bruises instantly rose to the surface of the soft skin. "Shh!" Then, the fingers gentled and patted her in a comforting motion, much as a parent would a child.

He hiccupped loudly, then clapped his hand over her mouth, his body shaking with silent, drunken laughter.

Her heart was pounding so hard that every beat hurt. The hand quickly left her face and grabbed hold of the waistband of her jeans, jerking her up so that one of her knees came to rest on the fuzzy toilet seat lid. She felt fingers fumbling at the button of her jeans and what was about to happen slammed home with devastating force, causing bile to rise in her throat. "Stop," she moaned hoarsely, the faint vision of the dark toilet swimming in front of her.

A leg worked its way between hers; at the same time her jeans's button finally came free.

"Stop. Stop. Stop." Her arm was near breaking, and she could feel the tendons tearing as stabbing pains tore through her elbow and shoulder. She drew in an uneven breath and began to sob. "Please, pl-please stop!" she begged, her body fighting to distance itself from her attacker though she had no place to go.
Why is he doing this? Why isn't someone helping me? God, I'm screaming!

Her jeans and panties were torn down in a single move, scraping her hips on the way down. Then in a panting rush, he struggled with his own pants.

Gwen resigned herself to her arm snapping in two and she opened her mouth to call out, only to have her face pushed hard against the wet toilet tank, blood marring the white surface, his fingers digging into her cheeks.

"Don't you fuckin' move," the man breathed as he positioned himself behind her, his erection brushing the baby-soft skin on her bottom. "Shh!"

Gwen could feel the thrumming beat of the music against her face as the entire house seemed to vibrate with the rhythm of the song.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
No one can hear me,
she thought desperately.

He pushed forward, spreading her legs farther apart with a strong thigh, his hand muffling most of her cries.

Then there was a knock on the bathroom door.

The man froze, nearly inside her. And for a second, so did Gwen. But her paralysis only lasted a split second, and she began to thrash around.

He laid all his weight atop her, crushing her against the toilet and covering her head completely. She smelled the pungent odor of sweat mixed with cologne and began to gag, her throat burning. His chest was pounding so hard that she could feel it through his clothes, and she fuzzily realized that his heart was beating every bit as fast as hers.

Seconds passed.

Please open the door. Open it! Open it! Open it!
Gwen prayed woozily.

Then there was another knock. "Hurry it up!" an impatient female voice called.

Gwen's entire body jerked when her attacker lifted his head and made a series of booming retching noises. She supposed it was some sort of trick to make the person on the other side of the door go away, because he wasn't really sick and his body shook with silent chuckles between each retch. She waited, her heart slamming against her ribs, just knowing that the door would open any second and the room would be flooded with light and that Malcolm or someone else would save her. Instead, she heard nothing but the music and the man's harsh breathing.

She began to cry again.

Her captor, suddenly angry at being interrupted, pushed off of her roughly. In his haste to get back into position, he grabbed her good arm and wrenched it up her back, placing his other hand in her hair, and holding her face down so hard that her teeth hurt and her own drool pooled in her cheeks.

She whimpered as her injured arm swung down off her back to hang loosely by her side.
I'm gonna be sick.
"Sick… I–"
This can't be happening. It can't. I'm gonna throw up.

A searing pain caused her to lurch forward as he entered her in one savage thrust, and she cried out against the toilet tank. Her eyes opened wide in the darkness, tears leaking down her cheeks and chin. Her stomach rebelled and she began to vomit, tasting rank beer and soggy chips.

"Oh, yeah," he slurred, oblivious to her retching as he hissed out the word in rapture. He grunted and bucked against her faster and faster. Panting hard, he squeezed his butt cheeks together and it took only a few more savage thrusts for him to come deep inside her, his hands tightening convulsively in her hair and around her wrist.

Gwen spat and sucked in a deep lungful of air as his grip shifted, then loosened.

He groaned, then let go of her completely and staggered back a step.

Gwen fell forward, between the toilet and the wall, dizzy and sick as she continued to throw up. She hurt everywhere and her upper thighs were slick and sticky. She thought she heard his zipper being raised, and leaning unsteadily on one arm, she dared to turn and face him, only to be hit in the face with a wet towel. For a split second, it occurred to her that he might intend to kill her, to choke her with the towel. Her heart stopped beating.
I'm going to die
.

But he just stood there, motionless before her, his features totally unidentifiable in the blackness, even the sound of his breathing swept away by the sounds of the party, now that his lips weren't pressed against her ear.

"Wipe. And thanks," he said, almost cheerfully, causing her to blink and wonder if she'd heard him correctly. In his drunkenness, he had extended a hand to steady himself against the bathroom wall.

Thanks?
"You bastard," she seethed, not caring whether he struck her again. But instinctively, she followed his command and wiped at her mouth and chin with the soiled towel.

He opened the bathroom door a crack and slowly poked his head outside. Light poured in, temporarily blinding her, though she could see the vague outline of his body. He wasn't nearly as big as he'd seemed.

She dropped the towel as she cowered between the toilet and the wall, her whole body shaking.

Without a glance back, he opened the door and then closed it again, leaving her alone and crying on the dirty bathroom floor.

*  *  *

"I still don't see why you couldn't come back in the morning. My ears haven't recovered from earlier." Audrey yawned and eased her way out from behind the wheel of Katy's beat-up car. The crowd at the party had grown so sparse that there were no longer any cars parked on the lawn, and they were able to find a spot in front of the next door neighbor's house.

"Because," Katy said, scrubbing her face, "the chances of my purse still being here now are practically zip. There is no way on earth that it would still be here in the morning." She glanced down at her cousin as she walked, and lifted an eyebrow. "I could have driven myself, you know."

They continued to move up the sidewalk, stepping over empty beer cups and other rubbish on their way to the front door.

Audrey's eyebrows jumped. "With as much beer as you've had tonight? I think not. Let's just find it and get out of here." Her tone of voice was suddenly tired. "I need some sleep." Moodily, she shook her head at the loud music that was still pouring through a few half-opened windows.

"I think I left it upstairs… next to the bed in the first room on the right," Katy mumbled, casting her eyes downward before they snapped back up. "And don't you start with me!"

Audrey gave her shoulder a friendly pat as she opened the front door. "I didn't say a word."

"But you wanted to."

"Well, duh."

Once inside, Katy inhaled a deep breath of smoky air that was tinged with the acrid scent of marijuana. Pot, she had found out the hard way, made her sick. But seeing all the other happy cigarette smokers made her a little peeved that her roommates had taken a vote and forbade her from indulging inside their house.

Audrey waved her hand in front of her face. "Ugh. Where do we start?"

"God." Katy surveyed the wasteland around her, clucking her tongue. "I don't want to have to touch anything here." Mostly sobered up, she was surprised at how seedy her surroundings now appeared. She stepped aside as a dancing couple nearly collided with her. "What were we thinking coming to this dump?"