few steps and shut
the door.
Carl walked over and locked it. He
felt a rush of something good start at the base of his skull and coursing
forward and upward to his eyes and forehead. The feeling slowly descended
through the rest of his body. It felt like he had just injected something like
a speedball – a perfect mix of heroin and cocaine. His forehead began to buzz.
He turned back to look at the woman
on the bed. He set his beer on her bureau and undressed. As he took his clothes
off, his mind filled with images of what he planned to do. He was getting
mentally aroused as he envisioned himself raping her, but physically, there was
no evidence of his arousal.
He picked up his knife and gun and
walked over to the bed. He dropped the gun by her side and watched it bounce
once then sink into the down comforter. He opened his knife and carefully cut
the woman’s shirt most of the way up the middle, being careful not to cut her.
He didn’t want to hurt her. Not yet. He laughed to himself. Cutting her shirt
off with his knife was cool. He’d always wanted to do that. It looked so cool in
movies. But it was too slow, and he had no patience. He folded the blade back
into the handle and dropped it on the floor. He tore her shirt the rest of the
way with his hands. The sound of the ripping fabric started to arouse him.
Trey stood staring at the safe. The
only thing he could think of was to try finding a drill. But if he found one,
he didn’t know where exactly he should make a hole. He had no understanding of
the mechanics of safes, but in movies, they always drilled holes, so if he did
that, at least he could tell Carl he was working on it.
After finding a drill in the garage
and trying it on the front and sides of the safe with nothing to show for it
but a broken drill bit, Trey was ready to give up. He sat on the bed that was
made up for guests and tried to think.
A few minutes later, still with no
ideas, he began to hear the woman’s muffled cries coming from the other room.
Carl must’ve gagged her with something. It sounded like she was crying into a
pillow. It also sounded like he was hurting her. Trey couldn’t stand hearing
it.
This is fucked up, he thought. He
could hear the headboard hitting against the wall with a rhythmic thumping.
Carl was raping the lady. Perfect. This was not what he had in mind when he
thought about there being no law enforcement. Yeah, they were outlaws, and they
stole from people who had more than enough, but no one in the club ever raped
anyone.
It occurred to Trey that maybe he
wouldn’t lose the respect of his peers if he intervened on the woman’s behalf.
It was a bold thought, but what if the guys actually agreed with Trey and
praised him for saving her? Hell, all of them had girlfriends, so they should
be able to relate to how they’d feel if something like this happened to them. Or their sisters, or mothers.
Yeah. He was certain they’d approve
of him stopping Carl. Maybe they’d even kick Carl out of his own club – because
he’d lost his fucking mind. Skully would probably
take over. He was more of a leader anyway, and a lot smarter than Carl was.
The thumping noise was louder now
and the woman’s muffled screams were keeping time with the thumps. That was it.
Trey made up his mind. He was putting a stop to this shit. Right
fucking now.
He got up and quickly lit a
cigarette with trembling fingers. He clenched his teeth and focused his anger
and outrage and summoned up his courage and resolve. He walked out of the room,
went several steps over to the other room where the door was shut. He grabbed
the doorknob and tried to twist it.
He pounded on the door.
“That’s enough, Carl! Let her go!”
Carl was thrusting into the woman
from behind. He had secured her hands behind her back with his belt, and since
she couldn’t support herself, she was face down in the pillow. Carl was holding
her up with his big hands on her hips. He tried to think of something to