Free The Choking of a Beautiful Girl by the Bastard George Clooney by Huck Pilgrim Page A

she waits for what will come next. Something heavy
crashes to the floor, but it's over on the other side of the room.
She steels herself for her own heavy blow, but it never comes.
Instead she hears a man exerting himself. Softly cursing in
Spanish. Something is happening in the room, but it's not happening
to her. She raises her head, opening her eyes.
    Americo is here.
    He is cursing, kicking the old man who tried to
rape her. Americo's dark hair is hanging in his eyes, but he
doesn’t stop kicking. Stomping. Spitting. He looks like a fucking
mad man. She watches him do his violent dance of kick ass. His
boots are white with red tooling. Soon the man on the floor curls
into a ball. He holds one hand out, his fingers splayed.
    Americo glares at the old man on the floor, then
looks at her. Using both his hands, he smoothes his wild hair back
on his head. He adjusts the waistband of his pants, pats his ribs,
and finally he says, “Forgive me.”
    He is breathing heavily.
    She uses her fingertips to help herself stand.
Rising to her feet, her head throbs. One of her heels has snapped.
She takes off both shoes. They are beautiful shoes. Red patent
leather. Ruined. Holding them by the throat, she lets her arms hang
at her side.
    Americo takes a deep breath, his nostrils
flaring. He is holding a stained white hand towel. He methodically
cleans his hands with the towel. His breathing returns to
normal.
    The man who assaulted her cowers on the floor.
His soft moans mix with the wet noises in the room, the occasional
moan from a man on the other side of the wall.
    “Where is Danny?” she asks, her voice
trembling.
    Americo gazes at her evenly. “Danny . . .”
Americo says, his voice trailing off.
    He pauses to study his hands and she sees the
towel he’s holding has deep crimson stains on it, almost a muddy
brown. “Danny is unavailable,” Americo says.
    Something in her stomach sinks.
    He shrugs, smiles. “Danny asked me to send you
his regrets.”
    “Regrets?” she says. Her voice is shrill.
    Americo notices a wet stain on the toe of his
boot. It's dark, like mud. He bends to wipe it with the towel and
it smears like blood. He spits on his boot to clean it.
    When he stands, he grins at her.
    Her small upturned nose starts to quiver along
with her upper lip. The acne scars brighten on her cheeks.
    “There is the matter of your bill,” he says.
    “My bill?” she asks. Her voice rises with a note
of optimism. A bill is a simple problem, a solvable problem.
    “For dinner. Your room.” He smiles at her.
    “Danny said—“
    “Danny said—,” Americo shouts, raising his hand
imperiously.
    She goes quiet.
    “Danny said,” he repeats in a lower voice,
pausing and pressing his lips together. He takes a moment and then
smiles. “That you would settle the bill, offer . . . recompense.”
He pronounces this last word deliberately with his thick Mexican
accent.
    Americo tilts his head. He smiles.
    He waits for her to absorb what he just told
her.
    Her head is swimming. The pain in her scalp has
receded to a dull throbbing in the front of her head. She wonders
if this is Danny’s idea of a joke. It would be just like him to set
up something elaborate. Something crazy. She looks at the far wall.
A dark haired woman has a cock in her mouth, her own hand buried
between her legs. The man on the other side bucks his hips and the
woman closes her eyes and places her hands on the wall.
    “And you will,” Americo whispers.
    Hot tears run down her cheeks and she uses the
back of her hand to wipe her eyes. “I want Danny,” she says. “I
want to see Danny.”
    Americo sighs. He drops the rag at his feet.
Takes a knife with a long silver blade from his boot. He uses the
tip of the knife to clean his fingernails.
    The girl stops talking. She wants to stop
crying, but she can’t. She whimpers. Fat salty tears roll down her
cheeks.
    “What is your name?” Americo whispers.
    She's not sure she heard him right. She wipes
her