Tobias was confident he had covered all bases. While the police in Bozeman were checking the airport for Miami fares, and racing up and down the main thoroughfare looking for a black car, Tobias, Rochelle, and Dave were already airborne in the plane that awaited them at the small airfield not far from Windy Point. Things went exactly as he planned. His only disappointment was that he had not killed Matheson, then there would be no witnesses against him for the shooting, except Rochelle, but he could handle her.
No doubt, there would be a warrant out for his arrest, but he hoped he had enough manpower in the police department to curtail an arrest by issuing sufficient payoffs. For the time, only one notion was paramount in his thoughts; he was going to enjoy having his beautiful wife back in his life. Her presence had already sent a new surge of energy through him that felt like wholesome renewal.
He glanced at his wife, who sat with stooped back, her arms folded across her lap, and her head drooping nearly to her knees.
She was clearly distressed, but he would use his old charm on her, as he did in the beginning of their relationship, and bring her around again. He reached over and put his arm around her. She jerked to an upright sitting position and tried to shrug off his arm. He tightened it about her, drawing her close, until resting her head against his shoulder became necessary to avoid a cramped position.
“I've missed you, baby. Things are going to be different this time, I promise you.”
Rochelle recalled that promise. It was something he said on all the mornings after he put her through a night of abuse. Then he forgot the promise the next day after he started drinking again. He was the devil and he was taking her to hell with him.
His day-old beard, which was like tiny prickly spears, scraped Rochelle's forehead where his chin rested. He smelled like a barroom the morning after, the scent of soured booze and sweat radiating from his body heat. He lit a cigarette and the smoke wallowed in the space around them like clouds, the stench adding to Tobias's disgusting smell
The sound of his voice grated on Rochelle's nerves. Angry bile gorged her stomach. She made no reply to his statement, holding her face expressionless as she always had done with Tobias. All the while, her brain roiled in misery over concern for Michael. She knew the bullet hadn't killed him, and that was the only consolation for the hell that surely lay ahead of her. Still, she had no idea how bad his wound was, and all she could do was say silent prayers for his survival. A dead numbness took hold of her, it a reprieve against having to think of the prison she was returning to and Tobias's domination over her life. Everything felt dead inside her except the terrible misery she now felt and would continue to face.
“Talk to me, baby. I know you are upset now, but you'll see, things really will be different. I won't hurt you anymore, and there won't be any other women.”
Dave sat staring off in space, trying to keep a stone face against exposing his contempt of Tobias' behavior. He was sure the man didn't know what in the hell he wanted. One minute he was degrading Rochelle, screaming that he was going to kill her and the next he was trying to woo her again. He was unpredictable and capricious where Rochelle was concerned. He had little sympathy for anyone, but now he almost felt sorry for her.
Rochelle yearned to tell Tobias he could have as many women as he wanted and it would not matter to her, but inciting his anger would serve no purpose. Despite his declaration not to hurt her anymore, she knew it was a lie. His caustic temper wouldn't allow him to remain in this repenting frame of mind for long. Once the newness of her return wore off, and it would very soon, he would be back to his old habits of avenging any anger she aroused, whether she did anything to cause it or not. Actually, she didn't have to do anything. Tobias's vicious bent for control caused him to manufacture reasons for vengeance.
She thought about Caroline, and about why she did what she did. It was for vengeance—just like with Tobias. Caroline had wanted vengeance and had nearly gotten Michael killed.
“Tobias, I don't know what you expect me to say,” she replied, taking the middle ground she learned from long-practiced survival techniques with Tobias.
“Just tell me you're glad to see me, that we can put things together again.”
God, his ego was as inflated as a balloon, Rochelle thought.
And oddly, she knew he was sincere for the moment, as sincere as someone like him could be, but in no time at all, when he didn't get the desired response he sought, his temper would kick in and then the abuse would start all over again. Except for her fear about Michael, she felt empty, passive, and no longer cared what happened to her anymore. If she must spend her life with Tobias, she had rather be dead. It would have been merciful if he had killed her instead of forcing her back to the prison his home would be for her.
What she would go through from now on would be worse than death—especially now that she had enjoyed freedom and happiness with Michael. Tobias destroyed a little at a time by inflicting pain intermittently day by day. Gradual abuse was his way of exercising control and eliciting obedience. His method was capable of breaking down her psyche a little at a time, until it could bend her will quicker than even the threat of death, and Tobias knew that. Just knowing what her coming days would be like, if the previous years of their marriage was any indication, she didn't see how she could survive going through such hell again.
“I'm tired, Tobias. I'm very tired and would simply like to rest.”
She saw fire splinter in his eyes, and she was sure he would never have let it drop so easily if Dave hadn't been present. His arm tightened about her, and she had no choice but to lean against him and rest her head on his shoulder, all the while, hating the touch, the smell, and the heat of him. She closed her eyes, pretending to fall asleep even though the sound of the plane engine kept her awake.
Numbness spread over her like slow death.
MICHAEL WAS ADMITTED TO the hospital, not so much because of the bullet wound which turned out to be a clean shot that went through his shoulder, but because he had lost too much blood.
Mabel stuck with him, even though it was probably close to two o'clock in the morning when they finally stopped the bleeding, and put him in a room. He was spinning his wheels, every nerve in his body activated, and his tension was at a peak.
“Mikey, you're worried about her, aren't you?” Mabel asked while he tried to get comfortable on the bed, using the hand control to raise the head, to lower the foot, and then just the opposite in continual agitation. His body wasn't suffering with discomfort. It was his brain. He couldn't stop thinking how Rochelle threw herself between the gun and him, how she had talked Tobias out of killing him. He would very likely be dead right now if not for her. Yet, he had lain on the floor like a helpless pup, unable to help her when Tobias led her out the door.
“Mabel, she saved my life. That son of a bitch intended to kill me. She agreed to go with him, to do anything he asked if he would just let me live. The man is capable of anything. She told me that he threatened to kill her if she ran out on him. For all I know, he could mean to carry out his threat. I've got to do something to help her, to get her away from him.”
“Come on, Mikey, that's a matter for the police. What do you think you can do? You'll just go out there and get yourself really killed the next time.”
“Don't you understand? She threw herself between his gun and me. She would have taken a bullet for me. Do you think I can ever forget that? I have to do something. I just don't know what. I've never felt so damned helpless in my life!” He slammed his fists into the mattress, anger and frustration building up in him to explosive force.
“I know she's a decent human being, Mikey, but why did you ever get involved in a situation like this? Did you know these things about her husband when you first got involved?”
“She told me, even warned me about spending time with her, but Mabel, I've never met any woman I could love until I met her.
When I think of maybe never seeing her again, it wrenches my guts out. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to do something to help her. I want her back. I want her in my life. God knows it hasn't been much of a life without her.”
“She's a lot like your mother,” Mabel said in deep thought. “I noticed that as soon as I met her.”
“Yeah, I guess I did too. She is gentle and kind like mom was, and gracious and poised. She's special, Mabel, and there isn't another woman who can measure up to her. As God is my witness, I will get her back some way or other providing that son of a bitch doesn't kill her.”
“If he wanted to kill her, he could have done it after shooting you. I think he wanted her back.”
“I'll kill the bastard if I ever get the chance,” Michael threatened.
Mabel frowned. “What you need to do right now is get some sleep and think on this other stuff tomorrow. Let me get the nurse to bring you a sedative. You cannot just lie here all night long pushing those buttons to raise and lower your bed. You'll drive yourself crazy.”
“No, I don't want a sedative. I will feel too drugged tomorrow.
You go on home. I've taken enough of your time. And, Mabel, thanks for everything.”
“What are friends for, Mikey? You have certainly been one to me when I needed you. Something puzzles me, though. Why was Caroline there? What did she have to do with this?”
Michael's face took on a look of pure hatred, his dark brows drawn together, his lips curled into a snarl. “If I live to be a hundred years old I will never despise anyone as much as I do Caroline. This entire event was her fault, every bit of it. Chandler filed a Missing Person's Report on Chelle and when Caroline discovered it at the police station, she made it her business to inform Miami without the courtesy of talking to Chelle or me first. All of this might have been avoided if she had come to either one of us and learned what the situation really is. I hope to hell I never see her face again after what she did.”
“Jesus, I knew Caroline had a streak of vengeance in her, but I never thought she would go this far. She should have gotten an explanation from Rochelle—poor kid, she never had a chance.”
“If it's not too much trouble, I'd appreciate it if you'll check on Tillie tomorrow. This must be tough on her. She just gave up her apartment, and has no place to stay. I told her she could stay with me, but I don't think she's too keen on that idea.”
“She can stay with me,” Mabel remarked gleefully despite the grim atmosphere. “I probably can't pay her as much as you and Sweetpea were paying her, but I can make it worth her while.”
“Well, just don't forget that she still puts in her time at my house.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Mabel assured him. She kissed his cheek and said good night.
Michael watched her leave. She was no sooner out the door than his mind went back to Rochelle. He recalled their lovemaking, how feverish and frenzied it had been, almost as if the both of them had some inner warning of unforeseen disaster. She told him she loved him, which was her first declaration of love to him. That it should come on the day Tobias snatched her from his life was too much to deal with.
He knew he needed rest, needed to get well so he could find a way to help Rochelle. Nevertheless, his mind kept replaying the memory of every second from the time he had heard her scream.
Daybreak was pouring through the hospital window when his haggard thoughts finally tired him to the point where he eventually fell asleep.
ROCHELLE HOVERED IN THE FAR corner of the car as Dave pulled up to the tall metal gates. The guard sitting in the small cubicle pressed the button to open it. She felt like someone chauffeured to the cemetery for burial.
When they drove through the gate, and she turned to watch it close behind them, her heart seemed to plunk to the bottom of her chest with a mixture of pain, dejection and tears forming deep within. She refused to cry, swallowing the moisture in her throat, and wishing she were dead. An image of Michael provided the only solace for her troubled mind. Memories of him were all she would have in a house that would become her prison.
Tobias opened the front door for her after they exited the car.
He had to give her a tiny push to send her across the threshold. Once inside, she knew her life no longer belonged to her. During her stay in Windy Point, she enjoyed freedom unlike anything known with Tobias. Now, the vacation was over, and her prison sentence would commence.
Lights were on all through the house, the spotlessly clean interior gleaming like a sterile shrine all cold and empty of life. The house seemed more like a tomb than a beautifully decorated mansion. The deathly pall of its atmosphere greeted her with foreboding and despair.
She stopped on the foyer and looked about while loneliness kicked in with desolation and lost hope. She was standing on the place where Tobias had ripped off her gown, had shoved her to the cold marble floor and sadistically raped her. She shuddered at the memory, still shamed at knowing the guards had viewed it all on the monitor screen.
Tobias's arm tightened about her, adding to her sense of dread.
She saw the long days ahead filled with his abuse, and topped with boredom and loneliness. She could not muster hope of ever gaining another chance to escape Tobias. He would keep her under such a close watch she wouldn't be able to do anything without first getting permission and then having someone watch every move she made.
Tobias escorted her straight to the bedroom. “I've missed you baby. The whole damn house has seemed empty without you.”
That was quite an admission; however, Rochelle wanted to scream at him that she did not want to be here, that she did not care how empty the house was. Instead, she kept her silence. The look in Tobias's eyes presented a greater concern just then.
Standing just inside the bedroom door, she felt total reluctance to move, but Tobias had other plans. He put his arms about her and pulled her next to him. His hands cupped her buttocks and pressed her against his erection.
Rochelle shuddered internally, feeling suddenly chilled, the hairs standing on end on her arms. She knew what Tobias planned to do, and she could feel a scream of refusal rise in her throat. With Michael, her body had never felt so whole, so nourished, so clean and pure after their loving making. With Tobias, the very thought of him touching her sexually sent a chill of revulsion racing through her. The sensation was akin to having a bucket of human excrement poured over one's head, thus, leaving the feeling of being dirty and tainted.
“Baby, I've dreamed of this moment since the time you left. I know you're tired from the flight, but I need you. Do daddy a favor and take off your clothes. I want to see you.”
Biting back tears, agony, and repugnance, she knew it would do no good to resist. To do so would only invite his anger and abuse.
He wouldn't think twice about ripping off her clothing. Like a zombie, realizing she no longer had freedom of choice, she did as bid. She cringed sickeningly as his eyes perversely raked over her.
Her nakedness shamed her before Tobias's greedy gaze, and it took every bit of strength she could muster to stand in front of him without cowering like a wounded animal. To do so, would only have invited his wrath, and believing that survival could still offer some future with Michael, she stood like a passive statue before this man she despised.
He wrapped his arms about her, and kissed her, his breath so rotten, she nearly gagged. Instinctively she pulled away from him and turned her head aside.
“Baby, just be nice to me. That's all I ask.” His hands were exploring, touching her in places that still held the intimacy of Michael's touch. She felt moisture threaten behind her lids, and gaining unforeseen strength from some unknown source, she forced back the tears.
Almost gently, Tobias pushed her down on the bed, his mouth and hands working toward trying to initiate desire and some response from her. His lips claimed all the privileges he had taken with her when they were first married, but regardless of his attempts to arouse her, all desire had shut down. She felt entirely dead inside.
“Baby, you may not want me now, but you will. I promise you that. I will change. You will see. I will change and it will be good for both of us. I promise.”
I had rather be dead, she wanted to scream at him. She knew, however, it would have been a mistake to anger him. She must keep peace between them while she planned and nurtured the hope to find a way to return to Michael. The meager thought was the only spark of hope she had.
Tobias was staring deep into her green eyes, his icy gray ones imploring her to open to him, to respond to him. “Come on baby, we'll be good together again. You'll see.”
Against everything she wanted, she nodded her head. She thought of Michael, his tender kisses, his gentle touch, and his restraint until she reached her peak. Nothing in what Tobias did could ever excite the woman in her. That part of her would always belong to Michael, even if she never laid eyes on him again, and she feared that was a strong possibility.
Anger rose in Tobias's face at her silence and indifference. He was a vengeful and hateful man. When he didn't get his way, nothing made him feel better than administering pain and hurt of whatever quantities to gain acquiesce. Blood rose to his face turning it crimson. He nursed a strong desire to slap the hell out of her to force her compliance. However, truly glad to have her home again, he controlled his abusive urges.
Trying to keep his word to make things different, he pushed the anger aside. When he entered her with a full erection, it gave him a sense of power, a return of control. He believed Rochelle's absence had weakened him, and now that she was back, nothing was impossible to him. The flaccid penis, that just recently caused him delirious concern, now swelled with a tumescence that gave him pride and revived his sense of manhood.
Rochelle lay like a dead thing beneath him, and his psychological introversion was so intense he no longer seemed to expect anything of her. Like always, he pumped with excruciating force in and out of her, causing great discomfort and pain.
Fortunately, for Rochelle, Tobias wasn't a man who could go for an extended period before climaxing. His peak came shortly, to Rochelle's vast relief.
If Tobias expected her to reach a climax, he didn't show surprise when she didn't. The encounter was no different from all the other times he found completion with her. He was certain it was the best climax he ever experienced. He felt a return of full male power, his relief apparent over being able to perform again. Having Rochelle back revived his self-confidence, renewed his faith in his virility.
Everything came together, making him more appreciative of what was his. She belonged to him, and she would never get another chance to leave him.
When Tobias rolled off her, Rochelle lay there like a zombie with her eyes stretched open staring up at an imaginary spot on the ceiling, much like what she would do in a doctor's office during a pelvic exam. She felt dead and lifeless, her loneliness for Michael so intense that the world seemed empty of any reason to go on living.
Tobias held her in his arms as if he were trying to make up for all the time lost, and Rochelle hated everything he represented, hated his touch, hated his sperm that seeped from inside her, staining the sheets. The gentle kind person that was her persona with Michael had transformed overnight into a shell of a woman who seethed with bottled-up hate.
“Tell me about that man who was with you,” Tobias said, feeling her tense in his arms.
Rochelle knew his silence, thus far, on Michael was too good to be true. She knew the subject would come up eventually. She took a deep breath. “He was remodeling the kitchen,” she stated simply.
She knew he didn't believe her. His hand glazed up and down her arm, his fingers making little circles now and then on her nipples, his touches aimed at demonstrating his possession of her.
“Did he make love to you?” Tobias asked, rising up on one elbow so he could see her face better and read the expression in her eyes.
“No,” she lied. “One doesn't necessarily choose to be hurt when they can avoid it.” The insinuation was there, aimed like a poison dart at Tobias.
Tobias reacted. “I don't mean to hurt you,” he said, knowing he lied. It was his nature to hurt, to use pain as a power play to subdue.
It was all part of his perverted fantasies. Hell, he knew it was sick perversion, but he didn't give a fuck one way or the other, so long as he got his jollies. He learned early in life, that if it feels good, then go ahead and do it.
“Did you want to do it with him?” Tobias asked shortly She caught his eyes and held them in her unswerving gaze. “Do you really think I care about sex after all the pain you've caused me, Tobias? I think I would have despised any man who so much as made a pass at me. You need not worry. I'm just like you left me, abused and embittered. That man was doing exactly what I said he was doing. He was remodeling the kitchen, putting in new cabinets.”
“What is his line of work?”
“What do you think, Tobias? Who do you suppose remodels kitchens? He's a carpenter, a mere handyman.”
“And a handyman is below your haughty station in life, isn't he, baby?”
“Tobias, if you were no longer a part of my life, believe me, I would never want another man.”
She turned her back on him and silently prayed for sleep or death.