The air of the motel 6 was rich with the smell of their union. She sat in the bed, with the sheet pulled up and over her breasts, while smoking a Salem Ultra Light 100, and flicking ashes into the cheap disposable plastic cup they had requisitioned for an ashtray in the non-smoking room.
He, bolder, paced the room, unabashed and unashamed of his nudity. The residue of their sex glistened as it cooled and dried on his cock.
This 4pm Motel rendezvous, may have seemed like a common story but it wasn’t. This was an exchange, not an exchange of sex for money, but an exchange just the same. She had something he wanted, and in exchange he did what she needed done. The details were never spoken of, and words would only have further complicated an already complicated issue.
There had been words in the past.
“Do you have children?” She had asked.
“Nope. Don’t really ever want to either.” he had answered in his normal unemotional tone.
“Then why do you do this? I mean seriously you can’t be doing this just for a little afternoon delight?”
I do this because I like to.
“No.. No... No.... I don’t mean the sex. I mean the violence.”
“So do I.”, he had relied.
That pretty much ended that conversation.
A chill had gone down her spine, she had been truly afraid for a second. She had been sure she would never call him again. But then they had made love.. and those feelings had faded away with her own cries of orgasm...
She had called him again and again and again... and here he was.
He dropped his own cigarette in his plastic cup, it made a pssst sound as it was exstinguished in the waiting water. Sitting the cup down, he picked up the ½ pint bottle and took a swallow of bourbon straight from the bottle.
She watched him, becoming aroused again, while he paced. ‘Like a caged lion.’ she mused to herself. Reaching over to drop her smouldering cigarette in his cup she allowed the sheet to fall. He noticed, and the twitch, let her know he noticed.
He crossed to her side of the bed holding the bottle out to her. She shook her head no and grabbed his flaccid prick. He grinned, set the bottle down on her side of the bed and placed his hand on the back of her head as she took his now stiffening member into her mouth. She didn’t really mind the taste and knew it turned him on when she tasted their leavings.
The social worker embraced the debauchery, and rejoiced in the freedom to do and be anything he wanted for the next hour. He knew a side of her that no one else ever did or would and she knew sides of him and secrets that would forever alter his life.
Surrounded by this impenetrable and absolute wall of secrets lay a freedom and liberation that no one could or would ever understand.
Later, while he showered she dressed quickly, and quietly, and left. She made sure to leave nothing behind except the file, that had been carefully photocopied, and slipped out of the file room with the sign that hung on the wall that said ‘absolutely no files are to be removed from this room’.
When he finished showering he came out of the bathroom and dressed in the pile of clothes that lay neatly folded and hung over the back of the rooms only chair, finally he stepped into his boots. He wasn’t surprised that she was gone, he had expected it. He wasn’t shocked at the file either. He picked it up without opening it, left his magkey on the bedside table with a 5 dollar tip, walked to the parking lot and got into his truck.
Forty five minutes later at a diner on the other side of town he opened the file and read while eating a double cheese burger and fries. The waitress knew her business and knew it well, she didn’t bother her customer with useless chatter and kept his cup full of hot black coffee. He read every single word, of every single page, he looked at the photos, and then looked at them again. As he finished a page he lay it face down in a neat and orderly pile at his right hand. When he finished reading, he looked at his check, left a 10 and two singles on the table, put the pages back in the file, and left the diner taking it with him.
He drove to the local Kinkos, shredded the file, and left without a word to the harried clerk.
Later that night Jack finished his job at the foundry. He clocked out and headed over to Jerry’s Bar for a couple of beers before heading home to his wife and children.
About a mile from home a truck had seemed to pop out of no-where. He narrowly avoided a crash and was run off the road. The other vehicle must have spun around because even as Jack climbed out of his truck he was almost blinded by headlights and a light bank that was on the headache rack of the other vehicle.
Furious Jack climbed out of his truck ready to give a piece of his mind to the offending driver.
With rage in his step he stomped toward the other vehicle holding one hand out in front of him to shield his eyes from the blinding head-lights.
“What are you, some kind of fucking idiot?” shouted Jack.
The driver’s side of the other truck opened and a man climbed out. He was completely in silhouette but the silhouette was huge and Jack felt the first tentacles of fear creep up and down his spine. He changed his tone a little.
“I mean.. shit man. How fast was you going? I never even saw you...”
“Is your name Jack Kineson?” the man in silhouette asked.
“Yea it is..” answered Jack. “Who are you and where the fuck did you come from? Look at this goddamn mess!”
“You didn’t see me because I was setting in the middle of the road with my lights off.”
“Well why in the fuck would you do that?” asked Jack still perplexed.
The man answered as he stepped forward. “Cause I got something for you.”
As the last word left his mouth his hand came forward and pressed a tazer into Jack’s throat. The pain was excruciating, paralyzing, and endless all at the same time. Jack felt his knees give, his bladder let go, and saw lightning even though there was none, all in the brief second that it took him to collapse to the ground. He must have faded for a few seconds because the next thing he remembered he was laying on the ground with the shadow of his assailant over him.
“You beat your kid that has autism? You want to tune him up a little?”
A steal toed work-boot came out of the darkness and crashed into Jack’s Shoulder. He felt his shoulder dislocate and his clavicle shatter. Thought and coherency evaporated as Jack screamed. Another kick, this time to his lower ribs, and the scream continued even when all the breath in Jack’s lungs had been spent. Finally his breath reached it’s last and he tried to suck in more air. He couldn’t. His assailant had actually put his boot on Jack’s neck. Jack needed air worse than he ever had and he couldn’t get any. He began to panic and beat against the leg, with his left arm, the right one refused to move. The leg seemed sized like a telephone-pole and it had him pinned to the ground as completely as an insect pinned to a board. A darkness even darker than night began to close in on Jack. He knew he was losing consciousness and he almost welcomed the darkness. Never had he felt pain like he felt in his shoulder and right side. It was like a fire from the inside out as his broken bones ached and ground against each other with every movement.
The only sound was a rasping as Jack struggled to get his breath, and finally his left arm fell down to lay like his right. Jack’s consciousness had left him and he welcomed the darkness.
Minutes? Seconds? Hours? …. Sometime later Jack felt liquid hit his face. It burned his eyes and tasted horrible on his tongue. The thought of drowning flashed across his mind like an endless neon sign on a jet black sky and he jerked himself into a sitting position. The stream followed him and his shoulder stabbed at him. He tried to open his eyes but the liquid stung them and he squeezed them shut, leaned to his left, vomited and then fell over in it.
“You awake Jackie Boy?” asked his assailant.
Jack did not answer, he lay there in the piss and vomit (it was piss he realized as his mind said the word) and waited for this nightmare to pass.
“If you don’t answer me I will break your leg.” said the voice with a darkness and confidence that assured Jack of it’s sincerity.
“Oh God.. I’m awake. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” mumbled Jack in a voice that quivered so much it was barely recognizable by him as his own.
“Good, because I want to make sure you hear and understand what I have to tell you.”
The assailant nudged the broken shoulder with the toe of his boot, and Jack screamed.
The assailant laughed low and menacingly.
“Just making sure I have your attention. Do I have your attention Jack?”
“Oh God Yes.” Jack answered.
“Your gonna get about 6 weeks off, or at least light duty while that shoulder heals. I want you to take that time to get you some counseling, or get a divorce. Because if your autistic son gets hurt again I will kill you.”
“What? What are you talking about? Who are you?” Jack asked with a since of bewilderment and confusion in his voice.
Although it was the assailant’s boot it felt like a sledge hammer as it slammed again into Jack’s already broken shoulder. He tried to scream but a scream wouldn’t even come as the ends of the clavicle bone were ground together. One end of the bone almost poked out of Jack’s shoulder and lightning again flashed on the inside of Jack’s eyelids.
The low menacing laugh again sounded and the assailant knelt beside the victim on the ground and now placed his hand on the wounded shoulder.
The pressure caused Jack to moan.
“Don’t say stupid things Jack... It doesn’t fucking matter who I am. It only matters that you believe that if the boy gets hurt I will kill you. Do you believe that Jack?”
The assailant emphasized his final statement with a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder causing the bones to grind and Jack to scream again.
“Yes I believe you... Just let me live..... Just let me go.... Just stop hurting me....” As Jack said this he began to cry and weep and wail... Like a terrified toddler in the body of a 37 year old man.
“Just one more thing.”
“Yes Yes anything.” gasped Jack
“You were in a one man accident out here. Just dozed off and drove off the road. I was never here and that’s the story you will stick to. Am I right?”
“Oh Yes.. absolutely.”
The assailant got up slowly. Walked back to his truck and drove away.
He, bolder, paced the room, unabashed and unashamed of his nudity. The residue of their sex glistened as it cooled and dried on his cock.
This 4pm Motel rendezvous, may have seemed like a common story but it wasn’t. This was an exchange, not an exchange of sex for money, but an exchange just the same. She had something he wanted, and in exchange he did what she needed done. The details were never spoken of, and words would only have further complicated an already complicated issue.
There had been words in the past.
“Do you have children?” She had asked.
“Nope. Don’t really ever want to either.” he had answered in his normal unemotional tone.
“Then why do you do this? I mean seriously you can’t be doing this just for a little afternoon delight?”
I do this because I like to.
“No.. No... No.... I don’t mean the sex. I mean the violence.”
“So do I.”, he had relied.
That pretty much ended that conversation.
A chill had gone down her spine, she had been truly afraid for a second. She had been sure she would never call him again. But then they had made love.. and those feelings had faded away with her own cries of orgasm...
She had called him again and again and again... and here he was.
He dropped his own cigarette in his plastic cup, it made a pssst sound as it was exstinguished in the waiting water. Sitting the cup down, he picked up the ½ pint bottle and took a swallow of bourbon straight from the bottle.
She watched him, becoming aroused again, while he paced. ‘Like a caged lion.’ she mused to herself. Reaching over to drop her smouldering cigarette in his cup she allowed the sheet to fall. He noticed, and the twitch, let her know he noticed.
He crossed to her side of the bed holding the bottle out to her. She shook her head no and grabbed his flaccid prick. He grinned, set the bottle down on her side of the bed and placed his hand on the back of her head as she took his now stiffening member into her mouth. She didn’t really mind the taste and knew it turned him on when she tasted their leavings.
The social worker embraced the debauchery, and rejoiced in the freedom to do and be anything he wanted for the next hour. He knew a side of her that no one else ever did or would and she knew sides of him and secrets that would forever alter his life.
Surrounded by this impenetrable and absolute wall of secrets lay a freedom and liberation that no one could or would ever understand.
Later, while he showered she dressed quickly, and quietly, and left. She made sure to leave nothing behind except the file, that had been carefully photocopied, and slipped out of the file room with the sign that hung on the wall that said ‘absolutely no files are to be removed from this room’.
When he finished showering he came out of the bathroom and dressed in the pile of clothes that lay neatly folded and hung over the back of the rooms only chair, finally he stepped into his boots. He wasn’t surprised that she was gone, he had expected it. He wasn’t shocked at the file either. He picked it up without opening it, left his magkey on the bedside table with a 5 dollar tip, walked to the parking lot and got into his truck.
Forty five minutes later at a diner on the other side of town he opened the file and read while eating a double cheese burger and fries. The waitress knew her business and knew it well, she didn’t bother her customer with useless chatter and kept his cup full of hot black coffee. He read every single word, of every single page, he looked at the photos, and then looked at them again. As he finished a page he lay it face down in a neat and orderly pile at his right hand. When he finished reading, he looked at his check, left a 10 and two singles on the table, put the pages back in the file, and left the diner taking it with him.
He drove to the local Kinkos, shredded the file, and left without a word to the harried clerk.
Later that night Jack finished his job at the foundry. He clocked out and headed over to Jerry’s Bar for a couple of beers before heading home to his wife and children.
About a mile from home a truck had seemed to pop out of no-where. He narrowly avoided a crash and was run off the road. The other vehicle must have spun around because even as Jack climbed out of his truck he was almost blinded by headlights and a light bank that was on the headache rack of the other vehicle.
Furious Jack climbed out of his truck ready to give a piece of his mind to the offending driver.
With rage in his step he stomped toward the other vehicle holding one hand out in front of him to shield his eyes from the blinding head-lights.
“What are you, some kind of fucking idiot?” shouted Jack.
The driver’s side of the other truck opened and a man climbed out. He was completely in silhouette but the silhouette was huge and Jack felt the first tentacles of fear creep up and down his spine. He changed his tone a little.
“I mean.. shit man. How fast was you going? I never even saw you...”
“Is your name Jack Kineson?” the man in silhouette asked.
“Yea it is..” answered Jack. “Who are you and where the fuck did you come from? Look at this goddamn mess!”
“You didn’t see me because I was setting in the middle of the road with my lights off.”
“Well why in the fuck would you do that?” asked Jack still perplexed.
The man answered as he stepped forward. “Cause I got something for you.”
As the last word left his mouth his hand came forward and pressed a tazer into Jack’s throat. The pain was excruciating, paralyzing, and endless all at the same time. Jack felt his knees give, his bladder let go, and saw lightning even though there was none, all in the brief second that it took him to collapse to the ground. He must have faded for a few seconds because the next thing he remembered he was laying on the ground with the shadow of his assailant over him.
“You beat your kid that has autism? You want to tune him up a little?”
A steal toed work-boot came out of the darkness and crashed into Jack’s Shoulder. He felt his shoulder dislocate and his clavicle shatter. Thought and coherency evaporated as Jack screamed. Another kick, this time to his lower ribs, and the scream continued even when all the breath in Jack’s lungs had been spent. Finally his breath reached it’s last and he tried to suck in more air. He couldn’t. His assailant had actually put his boot on Jack’s neck. Jack needed air worse than he ever had and he couldn’t get any. He began to panic and beat against the leg, with his left arm, the right one refused to move. The leg seemed sized like a telephone-pole and it had him pinned to the ground as completely as an insect pinned to a board. A darkness even darker than night began to close in on Jack. He knew he was losing consciousness and he almost welcomed the darkness. Never had he felt pain like he felt in his shoulder and right side. It was like a fire from the inside out as his broken bones ached and ground against each other with every movement.
The only sound was a rasping as Jack struggled to get his breath, and finally his left arm fell down to lay like his right. Jack’s consciousness had left him and he welcomed the darkness.
Minutes? Seconds? Hours? …. Sometime later Jack felt liquid hit his face. It burned his eyes and tasted horrible on his tongue. The thought of drowning flashed across his mind like an endless neon sign on a jet black sky and he jerked himself into a sitting position. The stream followed him and his shoulder stabbed at him. He tried to open his eyes but the liquid stung them and he squeezed them shut, leaned to his left, vomited and then fell over in it.
“You awake Jackie Boy?” asked his assailant.
Jack did not answer, he lay there in the piss and vomit (it was piss he realized as his mind said the word) and waited for this nightmare to pass.
“If you don’t answer me I will break your leg.” said the voice with a darkness and confidence that assured Jack of it’s sincerity.
“Oh God.. I’m awake. Please don’t hurt me anymore.” mumbled Jack in a voice that quivered so much it was barely recognizable by him as his own.
“Good, because I want to make sure you hear and understand what I have to tell you.”
The assailant nudged the broken shoulder with the toe of his boot, and Jack screamed.
The assailant laughed low and menacingly.
“Just making sure I have your attention. Do I have your attention Jack?”
“Oh God Yes.” Jack answered.
“Your gonna get about 6 weeks off, or at least light duty while that shoulder heals. I want you to take that time to get you some counseling, or get a divorce. Because if your autistic son gets hurt again I will kill you.”
“What? What are you talking about? Who are you?” Jack asked with a since of bewilderment and confusion in his voice.
Although it was the assailant’s boot it felt like a sledge hammer as it slammed again into Jack’s already broken shoulder. He tried to scream but a scream wouldn’t even come as the ends of the clavicle bone were ground together. One end of the bone almost poked out of Jack’s shoulder and lightning again flashed on the inside of Jack’s eyelids.
The low menacing laugh again sounded and the assailant knelt beside the victim on the ground and now placed his hand on the wounded shoulder.
The pressure caused Jack to moan.
“Don’t say stupid things Jack... It doesn’t fucking matter who I am. It only matters that you believe that if the boy gets hurt I will kill you. Do you believe that Jack?”
The assailant emphasized his final statement with a slight shove to Jack’s shoulder causing the bones to grind and Jack to scream again.
“Yes I believe you... Just let me live..... Just let me go.... Just stop hurting me....” As Jack said this he began to cry and weep and wail... Like a terrified toddler in the body of a 37 year old man.
“Just one more thing.”
“Yes Yes anything.” gasped Jack
“You were in a one man accident out here. Just dozed off and drove off the road. I was never here and that’s the story you will stick to. Am I right?”
“Oh Yes.. absolutely.”
The assailant got up slowly. Walked back to his truck and drove away.
