Twisted Games

Lena slapped the incessant alarm as she forced her eyelids open. Blinking to focus on the clock, she flung the blanket away from her sweat-coated body. The draft of cool air raised goose bumps along bare flesh. She fumbled out of bed, rushing to the bathroom as a wave of nausea assaulted her. The porcelain felt icy on her warm fingers as she gripped the toilet weakly. Hot shards of pain stabbed through her side.

         She cringed at her reflection as she rinsed the acrid taste from her mouth. Dark circles made her eyes appear as hollow sockets, testament to sleepless nights. A bruise tinted her skin in an array of painful colors. She splashed water on her face to remove the grit from her bloodshot eyes. Willing her stomach to calm, Lena wet a cloth and grabbed the trashcan. She prodded a crumpled cloth that lay on top, noting the damp darkness that stained the fabric. A wasted memory attempted to surface, disappearing into the soggy mass of her subconscious before it could fully reveal itself. She stuffed the offending item deeper into the trashcan before stumbling back to bed.

         Lena felt as though a hundred jackhammers were bursting their way through her skull as she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and dialed the office, holding it away from her ear to escape the trilling rings.

         “This is Lena,” she whispered. “I can’t make it in.”

         “Lena? You sound like hell. Are you sick?” Renee, the office receptionist and her friend, asked.

         “Yes,” she groaned. “I think I have the flu or something.”

         “I’ll let Benny know. But Lena, you know he’s going to be pissed.” Renee’s reply skated away as Lena snapped the phone closed and burrowed beneath the plush blanket.

         Lena’s position as a real estate agent required a smiling face and effervescent personality. The happy façade was generally easy enough to keep up, but there was certainly no way of overcoming the way she felt. It would be spot-on for Benny to be angry because she was missing work. Sick or not, he expected everyone to show up. Lena had learned the hard way that he was a very selfish man, but this time she didn’t care if he would be angry or not. She could be selfish too.

         Shrill ringing permeated Lena’s sleep-fogged mind. She slapped the alarm clock repeatedly before realizing the disturbance came from the phone. She groped blindly on the floor, found the device, and answered with a gruff, “Hello.”

         “Lena, where the hell have you been? I’ve called four times already! I came by your house,” Rebecca said, barely taking a breath.

         “Stop screaming,” Lena pleaded.

         “What’s wrong?”

         “I’m sick,” she mumbled. “Where are you?”

         “On my way back to your house.”

         “I’m not really—” Lena stopped as the line buzzed, signaling the call had ended. “Damn it!”

          Easing out of bed, Lena waited for the sickening wave to subside before slipping into her robe. She walked into the kitchen, in search of a bottle of water to soothe the raw burn in her throat. Sunlight streaming through the windows scorched her squinted eyes.

         A knock on the door signaled the arrival of unwanted company. Rebecca stood on the stoop, smiling. Her pleasant expression melted into mild disgust. “I was planning to say Good Morning, but judging by how you look, I’ll pass. What the hell happened to your hand?” she asked, slipping through the entry.

         “I busted it,” Lena answered, seeming to notice the injury for the first time.

          She motioned for Rebecca to follow her into the living room where she sank onto the sofa. Rebecca perched beside her, as rigid and as prim as the first time they were introduced back during Lena’s second week in the company. The pair had bonded after receiving a scolding from Benny in front of an office full of seasoned agents and clients. Three years later, they maintained a relationship that toed the line somewhere between friends and acquaintances.

         “So, why weren’t you at work today? You know Benny was through-the-roof pissed at you.”
         
         “I woke up sick,” Lena replied, her words stiff.

         Rebecca grinned. “Wild night last night, huh?”

         “Wild night?” The persistent thump behind Lena’s eyes refused to go away.

         “Seriously, Lena.” Rebecca’s expectant smile diminished. “Your date?” she prompted, rolling her heavily ringed fingers through the air.

         “Date? Oh, yeah.” A rush of expelled air left her feeling deflated. “I almost forgot.”

         Rebecca laughed. “You’re hilarious! I’d probably pretend to forget, too…” She stopped. “So?” She winked. “How did it go?”

         Lena’s smile twitched. She forced out the lie. “It was okay, I guess. Richard’s really not my cup of tea.”

         Rebecca put her hand up. “Say no more. I almost warned you about him. He’s a real pompous ass.”

         “Trust me, I know,” Lena replied.

         Richard. The name parted the fog of Lena’s guilty mind. Flashes of a dark-haired man mingled with anger brought the queasiness rushing back. Details of her night with Richard slithered through her mind and she pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples in a feeble attempt to make the horrible movie stop. Richard, bleeding. Richard, yelling. Richard…what? Asleep?

         “Are you alright?” Rebecca asked, reaching out to touch Lena’s knee.

          “I’m really not up for this, Rebecca. Thanks for stopping by, but I should get back to bed.”

         “Sure,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I hope you feel better soon.” A mask of disappointment folded around Rebecca.

         Lena locked the door and leaned her head against it. “What the hell is wrong with me?” She felt like banging her head against the door until she passed out. At least she’d be able to rest then.

         A sadistic slideshow played continuously through her mind. Nausea swelled and her head pounded from the effort to make the images go away. Lena thought about the conversation with Rebecca the previous day as she slumped on the sofa.

*  *  *

         “Did you hear about Thomas?” Rebecca had asked, shoveling a forkful of salad into her mouth.

         Lena stopped, her own fork pausing in midair. “No. What about him?” she asked, hungry for any amount of gossip on the ex-boyfriend whose refusal to hold a normal job—or any job, for that matter—had been the ultimate death of their relationship.

         “Renee told me someone broke into his house. Whoever it was totally ransacked the place. Took his TV and a bunch of other stuff,” she paused, leaning forward. “And get this. They took a bunch of movies. Weird, huh?”

         “That is weird. Why would they take movies? It’s not like he had that much stuff anyway. He was such a bum.” Lena rolled her eyes.

         “Well, Renee said the cops busted some guy selling bootlegged movies downtown and she said the guy had some movies with Thomas’ name on them.”

         “Really?” Eyebrows lifted. “Thomas was bootlegging movies?” Juicy dirt. A contented smile slid into place.

         “Yes. Weird shit,” she dropped her voice. “Like bondage type shit.”

         Lena nearly choked on the gulp of soda. “Renee told you this?”

         Rebecca grinned. “Renee’s dating Thomas. She said the cops came knocking on his door about midnight asking him all sorts of questions about the movies he’d reported stolen.”

         “You’re kidding, right? Who else would be stupid enough to put their name on movies like that? That’s ridiculous. I just can’t see that being true.” Lena presented an astonished face, but satisfaction settled around her. Score one for Team Lena.

         The manner in which Rebecca punctuated the air with her fork brought Lena’s focus back to the conversation. “I’m sorry. Daydreaming.” Lena smiled.

         Rebecca grunted, annoyed. “I said they took Thomas in for questioning. I think they may have arrested him, but Renee wasn’t sure, so I don’t know.”

         “Wow,” Lena replied dumbly. “I have no idea what to say.” She stabbed the dressing-soaked lettuce, absently pushing it around the bowl.

         “Maybe you could ask Richard about it,” Rebecca suggested.

         “Why would I do that?”

         “Well,” Rebecca drew out, “you’re going out with him tonight, aren’t you?”

         “And you’re hoping I’ll pump him for information?”

         “Sure. Why not?” She smiled innocently. “They’re buddies, after all.”

         “I’m actually thinking of cancelling my date tonight,” Lena lied. She hated to lie, especially to her friends, but Rebecca was too nosy for her own good.

         “Oh, you say that, but I know you’ll go. You should get out and have a little fun,” Rebecca replied as she tidied the bits of debris scattered around the table.

*  *  *

         Lena pressed her fingers in slow, deep circles against her temples. Pain flamed through her right hand. The skin bunched and rolled back from the second knuckle. She poked the wound with her fingernail. The dampness beneath glistened. Violent flashes flickered behind her eyes. She tried to shake the images away as she stumbled to the bathroom.

         She twisted the faucet and thrust her mangled knuckle into the cool stream. She welcomed the pain. “How did it get so out of control?” She stared into her reflection in the mirror. Guilty eyes stared back. “How could I let it go so wrong?” The meeting with Richard at the coffee shop played through her mind.

*  *  *

         He had sidled up to her bearing a radiant smile. “Lena! Good to see you,” he said. “Are we still on for drinks?” He wiggled his eyebrows and she fought the urge to slap the arrogance from his face.

          Smiling politely, “Richard, always a pleasure.” Sarcasm dripped like honey-coated venom. Humiliating memories clouded her mind. His hardened eyes convinced her that his thoughts were on the same path.

         “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” He emphasized the ludicrous statement with a mock bow. “What time should I pick you up?” He asked, running his fingers across the back of her hand.

         Lena struggled to contain the disgust that twisted within her. He thought so highly of himself, assured she was just another meek conquest to add to his growing tally. The handsome, debonair exterior was certainly a crowd pleaser, but she knew the truth. “Why don’t we meet at that new bistro, Catalina’s? You know the place?” she asked sweetly.

         “I know it well. It’s located just around the corner from my place.” Richard’s massive eyebrows moved again, resembling caterpillars plodding an escape. Lena imagined the bushy caterpillars crawling down the side of his face, nestling into place like a menacing moustache just seconds away from stealing his breath. “Wonderful. Seven, then?” She rolled the words into a purr that added fuel to his fire.

         “Just like old times,” he whispered.

         Lena released a dazzling smile that masked the fury at his excitement. “Until then,” she said.

*  *  *

         All the memories of the old times with Richard came crawling back, making her skin itch. She had been an addict then and he had willingly filled her full of her favorite candy in exchange for humiliating sexual exploits. Thomas filmed it all. Lena had been careless, carefree, and high— as high as she wanted to be, all the time.

         As humiliating as those time were, she thought she had put it all behind her— wrote it off as youthful experimentation. She tried to forget the nightmares, the rope burn, and the smell of his whiskey breath. Then Richard transferred to her office and her sordid past sprang back from the dead.

         She remembered Richard’s hand finding her thigh beneath the tiny table at the bistro where they met for drinks, his fingers brazenly caressing. His leering glances stung her anew. She remembered slipping the pill into his glass after volunteering to fetch drinks from the bar. She had giggled at his demeaning comments while picturing herself shredding his tanned face with her fingernails.

         She watched him drain the spiked glass, his fourth vodka-laden drink of the evening. She finished her second drink. “I’m feeling a little tipsy,” she said, purposely slurring her words and smiling as he took the bait.

         “Allow me to escort you to my place. You shouldn’t drive, after all,” he gallantly offered, his words losing their crispness.
         “How nice of you,” she murmured.

         She felt confident that he could drive the two residential blocks to his place without passing out as she slid into the cool leather of his expensive vehicle.  Richard’s ego thrived on the feeling that he was in control. Lena reveled in the knowledge that his kingdom was about to come crashing down.

         Once inside, Lena slipped off her sex-kitten pumps and nestled comfortably on his leather sofa while he fumbled through pouring one more drink. She accepted the drink, gulping the fruity liquor as he mauled the buttons on her blouse. Whiskey breath slapped her in the face and it took every ounce of control she had not to push him off her. When he pulled her off the couch, she followed him to his bedroom, keeping her fingers loosely tangled with his. Her mind buzzed with nonsensical phrases as she attempted to separate her mind from the reality of where she was, who she was with, and what she was about to do. He slid onto the king-sized bed and collapsed onto the pillows, passing out before successfully disposing her of any clothing. She waited in the still darkness, listening to his shallow, rasping breath.

         “Richard,” she said, giving his shoulder a violent shake that failed to wake him. “Finally,” she sighed graciously. She poked him again, testing the depth of his stupor before rifling through the nightstand for the roll of duct tape he kept there.

         She had seen his bedroom before. She knew it well. She had spent several nights sprawled across the enormous bed. She had been willing at first, but then things had changed. Richard had changed. He became more forceful, demanding that other girls were brought it. Lena had carried a black eye for several days after she refused to participate one night, but had been forced to participate. Once she had finally gotten away from him, she had been so embarrassed that she vowed to tell no one. She never dreamed that she would end up working alongside him, and she never dreamed that the tapes would surface.

          When Renee had unearthed the long-forgotten videos, she had confronted first Thomas, then Lena. “Thomas denies it,” Renee cried as she held the evidence incriminating her boyfriend in her hand. Lena’s own embarrassment dimmed in light of the new evidence. Some of the videos had been made with young women whom Lena knew. “We can stop this,” Lena assured her, rage boiling. She was not only furious with Thomas and Richard for continuing their escapades, but she was furious with herself because she had failed to do anything about it when she had been involved.

         Renee had performed her part exquisitely by taking Thomas’ movies, TV, and various other electronics before trashing his apartment to resemble a burglary. After scrawling Thomas’ name on a few of the incriminating discs, she presented the loot to a downtown panhandler and called the cops.

         The thick tape released from the roll with an atrocious rip. Lena stuck the loose end to one hairy arm, stretching it across Richard’s chest to the other arm. She scrambled off the enormous bed and pulled a sturdy chair closer. She grabbed his arms to heave his dead weight into a sitting position, resting his back against her shoulder and wrestling him to the edge of the bed. She heaved and pushed, toppling on top of him a few times. “You…big…bastard,” she gasped, pulling him from the bed. Her foot slipped and his full weight toppled into her, knocking her backward into the chair. Richard’s limp body collapsed on her, crushing her ribs into the chair’s stiff arm. Her breath rushed out in a painful huff. Pushing and pulling, she struggled to dislodge herself. Her arms trembled weakly as she awkwardly shoved his body and wiggled her chest free, eventually achieving freedom. Exhausted, she stumbled over to the bed to catch her breath, her hand clutched to her side. Slippery beads of sweat stung her eyes. She sucked in a lung full of air and set about her task.

         The dangling tape managed to cling to one arm through the commotion. Lena tore the roll free from the mangled mess and made quick work of binding Richard’s arms and chest to the chair. She secured his legs and stuffed a handkerchief into his mouth. He slouched in the chair awkwardly, but he was too heavy to straighten up. She had to make do. Vengeance and adrenaline rushed through her, making her task a little easier. Her dry throat worked to swallow a lump of guilt that grew there. She left Richard’s bedroom and raced down the hall to the bathroom. Panic throttled her.

         “Cruel,” she whispered to her reflection in the mirror. “That’s what you are. Cruel.”

         A slender, waxen face returned her challenging glare. Sadness ringed the green eyes stained with puddled mascara. Heaving a sigh, she swiped under puffy eyes, succeeding not in removing the errant remnants of a pretty face, but in making it worse.

         She slumped on the edge of the bathtub and cradled her heavy head in trembling hands. Why am I here? The same unanswered question pirouetted through her mind. Regina, Missy, Claire. The faces of her friends slid through her memory. Images of their humiliating postures and simpering cries forever seared into her brain. Lena wanted to give Richard a taste of his own medicine. Guilt and justification warred within her, the emotional battle rocking her to the core.  I shouldn’t be here… Time ticked away, indifferent to her plight…But I’ve gone too far to back away now. She thought of seeing Richard’s face as a constant reminder and tears filled her eyes. She pulled the cellophane containing her own special cocktail from her pocket. The two pills, one white and one blue, would allow her to complete the task and forget. Just like the old times. She slipped the empty cellophane back into her pocket.

         She jumped up and snatched the bathroom door open, pausing in its entry for a moment before stalking down the hallway. Framed photos of strangers cast accusatory glances as she passed. Those faces would not condemn her if they had been in her shoes. They should applaud her. Award her. Her unsteady hand hovered above the brass knob. She reentered the room, half its enormity cast in shadow. Brightly colored abstract art hung proudly on the windowed walls, contradicting the sinister secret within. Moving toward the shadows, muffled groans assaulted her ears.

         She cleared her throat as she stood staring at Richard, bound and gagged. The image sent a thrill of excitement through her. To her surprise, wide eyes stared back, a mixture of hatred and fear in the depths. You should still be passed out. How long have I been here?
         “I can remove the gag, but only if you swear to keep quiet.” Her voice was harsh, unrecognizable to her own ears. She waited for acknowledgement before gripping the bunched fabric that stuffed his mouth.

         “You’re insane,” he sputtered.

         Lena’s fist snaked out to stop the flow of words. The sensation of her knuckles against his mouth released a feeling unlike any she’d ever known. The pain secondary to elation, she slid her fingers across blood-slicked lips. “None of that,” she whispered silkily.

         Fierce eyes alight, he spit a stream of blood that splattered onto the floor. Lena crammed the wadded cloth back into his mouth, smiling as she imagined him choking on his own blood. He jerked his head and shoulders ferociously in an attempt to dislodge the bonds of tape that mummified his torso.

         “Richard, you’re not behaving,” she scolded, circling the chair. Leaning in from behind, she blew warm breath across his ear, whispering, “You say I’m insane, lover, like it’s a bad thing.”  She pulled a chair around to face him. “I thought you may enjoy a little of your own medicine.” Lena seated herself with all the grace of a queen. Moonlight streaming through the window highlighted his handsome profile, defected only by the protruded his jaw and swollen lips. A soulless smile crept across her face as she contemplated what to do with her prize.

         Richard’s eyes looked dull, the arrogant gleam dissolved. She grinned wildly, pleased with her accomplishment. “You should apologize for taking advantage of me and the others. You used us all! Doped us up and used us for your twisted little sex games.” She paused. Her sight wavered and her tongue felt thick. She snatched the gag from his mouth and stuffed it into her pocket.

         “Apologize? I never apologize to whores.” Richard leveled his steely gaze at his assailant. “Just what the hell do you think you’re going to do to me, lover?”

         The effects of the pill made Lena feel like she was moving in slow motion as she slipped the knife from her pocket. She watched with detachment as Richard’s eyes grew large, his mouth flying open, mumbling words she couldn’t understand. Her arm moved of its own volition, swinging up and swiping down. Liquid warmth sprayed across her torso as she removed the knife with a careless flourish. She viciously slammed the blade into the delicate flesh of Richard’s throat once more. Empty and limp, her hand fell to her side.

         She left the house, stumbling drunkenly around the corner where a car waited for her. The engine jerked to life as she climbed clumsily into the passenger’s seat.

         “Lena? What did you do? Is that…? Lena? Answer me!” Renee questioned, appalled by her comrade’s appearance. “What the hell happened?”

         “Jus’ take me home,” she slurred.

*  *  *

         Lena clutched the open bottle as she sank onto the bed. Her phone was ringing again. She stared inside, counting the little pills. She poured the contents into her palm, intending to swallow every single one, but a sudden pounding on the front door startled her. She jerked violently and the pills scattered across the bed, some bouncing onto the floor. She dropped to the floor, scrambling to recover the pills. She placed them, one by one, on her tongue and swallowed. The phone stopped ringing, then immediately started again. The pounding on the door grew louder and more violent. Lena clutched her head between her hands and rocked back and forth. “Go away!” she screamed. “Go away. Make it all go away.”

         A sound like the earth splitting in two resonated a second before the front door slammed inward. Two large men filled the doorway.

         “Lena Dalton?” one officer called out.

         Her senses numbed, Lena crawled toward the busted door. The muscled officer lifted her from the floor like a ragdoll. Her eyes lolled. She heard the officer’s droning voice buzzing in her ear, attempting to permeate her foggy mind. She spotted a familiar face in the sea of gathering neighbors as the officer carried her out into the sunshine. The light seared her eyes, but Lena still thought Renee looked sad as she stood amidst swarms of strangers. Lena grinned crookedly. Don’t worry, Renee, she tried to say, but couldn’t form the words. The nightmares will soon fade away and I’ll finally be able to sleep.

         She wanted to sleep forever.