Fade to Black (The Black Trilogy Book 1) (19 page)

chapter twenty-four

On my way home, I passed Ellie happily waving at me from the back seat of her school friend’s car. I skidded to a stop.

“Damn it! I forgot I told her she could go today!” I yelled at my steering wheel.

The girls had wanted to go for ice cream. If they were not back in thirty minutes, I would go get her. First, I had to do something about Maria. How could I have forgotten about her? Roger said two tickets, so he forgot her too.

I would go home and talk to her. I would give her some cash I had saved and tell her to drive to Knoxville and get lost in the Pigeon Forge tourist motels. I found her in the grand room, sitting stiffly in one of the high-backed chairs. She was white with fear. When she saw me, she shook her head frantically filling me with dread.

“Is Jean-Paul here?” I asked in a whisper.

Maria was looking out the window behind me. She took my hand in her cold one and shook her head again. Her eyes went wide trying to convey something I was not getting. Then it dawned on me.

“He’s in the woods?”

Maria nodded. I began to pull away, but Maria squeezed my hand tight. I gave her my attention, though my mind was racing.

“Yes?”

Maria pointed to her mouth. I didn’t understand.

“Maria, what is it?”

She continued to point, and then slowly, she opened her mouth.

All the years since she arrived, I assumed Maria didn’t speak because of the language barrier, but, as I looked in horror into her mouth, I got it. Where her tongue should be was a small nub. It was obviously not removed with precision or care. Though healed long ago, it was ragged. Tears came to Maria’s eyes as I began to rub her arm.

“Will you tell me?”

She shook her head, scared.

“Would you tell Roger? He can help you.”

She shook her head even harder, grey hair spilling over her face.

“Jean-Paul?”

She didn’t answer, but I was positive that if Jean-Paul did not do this to her, he knew who did. One thing was sure, Maria was afraid of Jean-Paul in the worst way. I made a promise that she would be okay.

“Come on, let’s go” I was saying to Maria, when I saw him standing in the doorway.

His boots were mud-covered, and he was layered in dirt and sweat. He gave me a disgusted look, as if I’d spit on him. I put my hand on my stomach, willing it to be still.

“Jean-Paul, I wasn’t expecting you,” I said, hearing my voice shake.

He was big and mean. Jean-Paul placed his narrowed eyes on me, then Maria, but said nothing. I was crossing over into territory that would surely bring about my death, but at that moment I didn’t care. In the years I had been married to this bully, I thought this was the best chance I’d ever get.

Daniel had ruined me so thoroughly, I knew I’d never be worth anything ever. So when Jean-Paul hit me, I took it, thinking it could always be worse, knowing I’d lived in a dog collar. I had finally seen how much worse it could be. I did something I didn’t know I was capable of. I launched myself at him. All the anger I had bottled up poured out of me. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to watch him bleed. I hit, clawed, and bit my way through his blows.

He threw me toward the kitchen, and I landed flat on my back. The breath was knocked out of me. I didn’t have a second to lose, as I tried to run. I wasn’t running to get away this time. Oh no, I was going to get a weapon. A knife or my shotgun. He pushed me down, and Maria jumped on him. In a split second, Jean-Paul had her by the throat, strangling the life out of her. He threw her, and her breaking neck echoed though the room.

I fought harder, but each time I hit at him, he punched me with his closed fist, blurring my vision. I collapsed on the floor defeated and near passing out. He grabbed a handful of my hair. I felt strands separate from my scalp.

“No!” I screamed, as I elbowed and kicked at him.

Jean-Paul had my head held back, as if to slit my throat.

“You stupid bitch,” and he punched me in the kidney.

The pain took my breath away. He was forcing me to the steps. I fought like a wild animal, reaching back to pull his hair or claw his face. We got to the stairs, and he pushed my face into them. He began ripping my clothes, taking time in between to punch my ribs or my face.

One of the blows landed on my temple, and I momentarily saw black spots. I could do nothing to stop him. I kicked and screamed, but he sodomized me with little effort.

“How’s that feel?” he was saying, nearly laughing, pushing further inside me. “Think you’re going to fight me, but look at you now. You ain’t so tough now, are you?”

I couldn’t breathe. The shock and pain of it was carrying me away. He had forced me before, but never this kind of evil. He pumped into me, and I begged him to stop. I just screamed and screamed. My insides were being torn apart. I went away in my mind, as I did with Daniel. I couldn’t stay in that place. It was too much. My face and neck were being crushed to the steps. I knew in a minute I would be dead.

Jean-Paul pulled at my breasts ripping my flesh. I was floating away. I didn’t want to come back. Roger would make sure Ryan got Ellie. Sheldon and his family would help raise her. I could no longer take this life. It was too much.

I heard a blast, but it sounded like it was somewhere far away. When I felt Jean-Paul’s body lift off of mine, I stayed still, anticipating my death. I turned to look and I saw my daughter holding a smoking shotgun.

“Ellie!” I was stunned and crumpled on the floor.

I reached for her, and she came to me. She was crying. I looked down, only seeing out of my left eye. Jean-Paul was spread-eagled, dick hanging out, bleeding from different places on his face, chest, and arms.

He was not dead. He was blasted with buck shots from Papaw’s old gun, buck shots we used to scare away a wandering bear or hog. Not to kill, but to sting.

I got Ellie’s hand and ran to my room. I was on the brink of passing out. It felt like there was great damage done to my face. I stumbled into the room and shut the door then called 911, and got a .357 out of the gun case I kept under the bed. I loaded it as I told the operator what had happened. She tried to keep me on the phone, but I hung up. I tried to sit, but that was impossible. I knelt on my knees in front of Ellie. She was no longer crying.

“Maddie’s mom dropped me off. I thought he was killing you,” she explained.

“Shh, shh, quiet now. You saved my life, and that makes you an angel.” I tried to smile, all the while listening for footsteps.

Blood poured from my bottom. I pulled a blanket to me, to spare her the sight.

“Momma, you’re bleeding,” she said.

I kept the .357 in my hand, ready if Jean-Paul came to find us.

“Listen to me very closely, baby,” I rubbed her arms to try and comfort her. “They are going to separate us. I’ll probably go to the hospital.” Not probably. I had to. I felt the blood continue to leak from my lower half and also from my face. “Don’t be afraid. Tell the policemen what happened. You did nothing wrong, understand?”

She nodded looking confused and scared. I thought for only a second before I decided to tell her the truth.

“Ellie, this is going to be hard, but I need you to understand. That man downstairs?” I was whispering now. “He’s not your father, baby.”

I was crying now, thanking God that Jean-Paul had no claim to my child.

“He’s not?” she asked innocently.

I shook my head.

“No baby, he’s not. You haven’t met your daddy yet, but you will.”

I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“He’s a handsome man who is kind and loving.”

She nodded in my hair. I felt dizzy and tried to hurry before I was swept away in the current. Adrenaline was leaving me, and I was beginning to sway. I put the gun on the nightstand and got a pen from the drawer. I took Ellie’s hand and began to write Roger’s numbers, office and cell, and then Nathan’s and Sheldon’s numbers.

“You call them as soon as you can, or let one of the officers call, okay?” She might have said yes, but I slid to the floor then.

“Mommy!” she said, scared.

I touched her face. So much like Ryan. I wondered again why I hadn’t seen it.

“I’m okay, baby. If he tries to come in, I want you to use the gun, okay?”

She nodded. She knew, as I had at her age, how to use a gun. Living in the woods, it was a must.

“I’m going to close my eyes for a moment, but don’t be scared. Everything will be okay.”

I lay, trying to stay conscious, until I heard the police and ambulance coming in. Relief flooded me, as I was carried out on a gurney. Ellie rode to the hospital with me, and I gave over to sleeping, holding her hand, praying to God all would be all right.

…

I woke hours later to Roger pacing the room.

“You didn’t sign up for all this, did you?” I said and tried to smile.

He came, and sat beside my hospital bed. It was night, I noticed, as I glanced at the dark sky outside my hospital window.

“You’re going to be okay,” Roger said in a whisper.

Nathan was asleep in a chair, along with Ellie on his lap.

“Is she okay?” I asked of Ellie.

Roger glanced at her, then back at me.

“More than okay,” he smiled. “She’s something, that girl. They have Jean-Paul. He had a few stitches and a head wound, but he’ll be in county lockup till tomorrow, then I’m hoping the big house by next week. Listen, we’ve got to talk.”

Roger’s voice turned serious and dark. He lightly lifted a chair to scoot in closer to me. I tried to sit up but found it too big a movement just then. Roger raised my bed slightly. We glanced at the sleeping pair every few minutes, to make sure we were not overheard before Roger told me all he’d learned.

“We were not able to find out much, but what we do know is not good Piper. Jean-Paul and his family ship people from South America into the States by way of various trucks and possibly ports. The individuals pay good money to lie flat in the upper parts of a truck’s bed, hid from anyone who doesn’t know the compartment is there. They only hauled maybe ten at a time, and only once a month. Jean-Paul oversaw this part of the operation, as did his father, Maurice, before he went missing a few years ago.”

Roger glanced back at Ellie and then returned to me.

“It’s rumored Maurice fled deep into Mexico, but no one is certain. This was a highly sophisticated operation. After Maurice disappeared, Jean-Paul was treated like a stepchild by his brother, and uncle.”

I tried to shift to a more comfortable spot. I felt numb, and I noticed a sharp pain in my belly. Roger placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from moving.

“Relax,” he warned me. “I believe Maurice brought Jean-Paul to Tennessee to try and give his son a different life. I don’t think Maurice was aware of the extent of Jean-Paul’s evil ways.” Roger sounded almost sorry for Maurice. “They have a high-end brothel in Louisiana. This is where Jean-Paul stayed most of his life. The women there are mostly immigrants from South America, working off debt to bring their children here. They never work it off. Most die there. I was told that Maria was one of them and tried to escape. Instead of doing away with her, they made an example out of her. They gathered all the girls in a room and cut out Maria’s tongue. She nearly died from it. A few years later, Jean-Paul brought her to you, knowing she couldn’t speak.” Roger finished this with disgust, tossing a glance at Ellie and Nathan again.

“She’s dead, Roger,” I said in a numb voice. I put the hurt away until I could deal with it. “Matthew,” I said, and my heart ached. “Roger, Jean-Paul killed my boyfriend, or caused the accident that did. I think he used to watch us, while we were together in the barn. Looking back now I think a lot of things that didn’t add up about his behavior.”

This thought made me sick. Matthew and I were so in love, and so innocent. Our time together was the best of my life, and now it would forever be tainted with the thought of Jean-Paul watching from the shadows.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do about that, Piper.”

I closed my eyes, and spoke quietly. I truly felt beaten, inside and out. We talked well into the night. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving my home, but Roger insisted we come to stay with him in New York for a while.

“You will have to testify. You can come home long enough to do that, and then return to New York, at least until he is put away. Agreed?”

I reluctantly agreed. We made arrangements for someone to check on the house and horses. I was so thankful for Roger. I tried to convey this, but the words came out choked from my swollen lips. I reached up to wipe my eyes, and gasped from the pain. I felt a long line of sutures just under my right eye. Roger took my hand from my face.

“You’ll heal,” he said, close to tears himself.

“How bad?” I asked, now doing inventory on my body.

Roger looked down at my feet as if talking to them would be easier.

“There’s twenty staples in your scalp. Your elbow is broken. You have sixteen of the smallest sutures, placed by a skilled plastic surgeon under your eye there,” he said, indicating the place I had touched. “Your ribs are badly bruised, and you have some other bruising here and there, but the biggest concern was from…” Roger stopped and swallowed.