Craved (Twisted Book 2) (23 page)

‘Good luck and let me know if you need help.’

‘Thanks, Mark. I’ll keep you posted.’

‘When you see my Lena, tell her I miss her and will be waiting for her.’

46

The next three days we devote to plenty of sleep, walks on the beach, and healthy meals. Our lengthy conversations about our father and most memorable moments of our childhood make us laugh and, often, cry. Every day I recognize Lena, my sister, more and more. She no longer looks like a victim of Auschwitz. Her color and her dangerously malnourished body improve. And her eyes lose that glassy indifference.

It’s Thursday. I wake up quite late, because of a busy and tiring night in the club. The smell of fresh coffee and fried eggs pulls me out of bed. Lena is busy in the kitchen. She gives me a dry good morning and gets back to the stove.

We eat quietly. I notice her restless eyes and heavy sighs she makes now and then.

Shit, I hope she hasn’t changed her mind about recovery.

‘I feel the urge.’ Lena finally talks. ‘I think I should go to rehab. I may not be able to make it on my own.’

‘Okay. Do you know which one or where?’

‘I checked a few places online this morning and made a few phone calls. I found the cheapest rehab, one hour out of Cape Town. It’s not a fancy place, that’s why the price is so low, yet it’s a well-recommended facility with good recovery statistics.’

‘How much?’

‘It’s 30k.'

I almost choke on my coffee. ‘Jesus! Is that the cheapest?’

‘The other facilities charge 60k and more,’ Lena mumbles.

I take a moment to think about it. ‘Okay. If you believe that’s what you need for recovery, I’ll pay. But you are going to have to pay this money back to me. When you find a job, I mean. No terms or deadlines for the loan. I just want to make sure you take responsibility for your actions.’

‘I get it.’ Her face lightens and her look softens. She leans and hugs me. ‘Thank you my poppy-seed.’

She gets up, sweeps the dirty plates and cups off the kitchen counter and puts them into the sink. Even her movements and her speech have changed, making her as pretty as she always was before she started using. She finishes cleaning the kitchen and gets back to the computer.

I so hope rehab will work out for her this time.

‘I found their bank details. They told me this morning, they have one free bed right now. If we make the payment today, they can check me in tomorrow. We just have to bring the proof of payment with us.’

I go to the computer and do the transfer via Internet banking.

Lena exhales and hugs me.

‘Thank you Jul. You saved my life.’

47

I step into the elevator and lean with my shoulder and head against the side. I’m tired. Thursday night turned out to be even busier than Wednesday. I’m so ready to take a quick shower and jump into bed. I sigh, remembering that I have to get up early to drive Lena to rehab. I walk up to the door and insert my key, but the door is unlocked and opens slightly as I push the key in. I curse – Lena has probably forgotten to lock herself in.

I switch the lounge light on. As I look up, my heart sinks. The room is a mess. Empty beer bottles, fast food packaging, dirty plates and glasses, cigarette butts and ash are all over the place. A bar stool is lying on the floor. It’s obvious – some kind of wild party has happened, not a burglary. I rush to the bedroom to check where Lena is, but snoring noises from the couch in the lounge stop me. I slowly tiptoe to the couch and find a young black girl. She is naked. Her legs and arms are spread in an ugly way, repulsively revealing her heavy breasts and bushy privates. Her head is thrown back, and her mouth is open. Her hoarse, harried snores point to high levels of intoxication.

I glance at the coffee table, and stop dead in my tracks. Besides empty bottles, packets of chips, and a dirty ashtray, there is a flat plate with two used syringes, a burnt spoon, and tourniquet.

What the hell is going on?

I hear a noise coming from my bedroom. I push the door open and freeze.

My bedroom is as messed up as the lounge, but this is not what shocks me. A scene from some cheap porn film is happening right on my bed. Lena is spread out on my sheets with her legs behind her ears. Two black men are fucking her. They shove their cocks inside her with complacent grins on their faces. The one who is fucking her pussy is holding her legs, the other one who is using her mouth holds her head above the bed. Her face is distorted by a big black dick that is deep in her throat. It’s hard to see if she is even conscious. Her eyes are half-closed and rolled back.

‘Are you out of your fucking mind? Lena, what the hell is going on?’

‘Who is this?’ the one who is fucking her pussy, with the shaven head, says, but doesn’t stop. He looks at me through glassy eyes.

‘Get the fuck out of here!’ I shout louder.

What am I going to do if they don’t?

The one who is pushing his dick into Lena’s mouth – skinny with dreadlocks – looks at me, and then down at Lena. ‘Who the fuck is this?’ He finally takes his dick out of her mouth and slaps her face softly, trying to bring her back to consciousness.

Lena doesn’t react. He drops her head onto the bed. It rolls unnaturally, as if she is dead.

He gets off the bed and moves towards me. The other one follows him.

‘Get the fuck out of here!’ I repeat, but my voice quivers and I take a step back.

I jolt towards the door, but one of them cuts me off and shoves me back. I take another step back and feel the dreadful coolness of the wall against my shoulders.

They grin at each other, driving me up to the wall.

‘Why are you so angry, girl?’ says the bold one. His voice is maniacally calm. I press into the wall, breathing heavily, suffocating from the terror and the stink of their sweat and alcohol.

‘Maybe you are jealous? Don’t be. We can sort you out too.’ The one with dreadlocks reaches me first. They begin to palm my breasts and rub between my legs, while holding me pinned to the wall. They squeeze painfully, while rubbing their naked smelly bodies and their erections against me.

I try to push their hands off me, but they press me harder to the wall. The bold one starts undoing my jeans, while the one with dreadlocks holds me still, kissing and licking my face and neck.

This is not happening. I’m in my home and this can’t be happening to me.

I grab all the self-possession I have, take a deep breath and force my body to relax.

‘There you go, princess, don’t fight your desires.’ They laugh, pleased with themselves.

Dreadlocks moves his mouth from my neck to my lips, filling my mouth with his repulsive tongue. His hands are now under my blouse, mashing my breasts. The bold one squats, pulling my jeans and panties down to my knees, and starts fingering me, licking and biting my pussy. I hold myself together and play my part, moaning and moving as if I’m enjoying it.

I wait until they lose their vigilance completely. Then at once I bite dreadlocks’ tongue and kick the bold one. Dreadlocks yells, holding his face. With my jeans at my knees I didn’t manage to kick hard, but still made the bold one lose his balance and fall back onto the floor. I seize the moment and run out of the room, pulling my jeans up. With shaking hands I grab the phone, open the kitchen drawer and pick the biggest, sharpest knife I have.

Shit! I don’t even know the police’s number!

They run out of the room.

‘I called the police! They are on the way!’ I shout with a shaky voice while holding the knife in front of me. They stop, looking at me, then at each other.

At last the bold one grins. ‘Hey, slow down. We are leaving already.’ Dreadlocks follows too. ‘We thought you were like your sister, who enjoys a little bit of sweet chocolate before bed.’ They go back to the bedroom, pick up their clothes and walk out, dressing on the go.

As they reach the door, I shout, ‘Don’t forget to take that garbage off my couch!’

They go back. Dreadlocks picks up the girl’s dress, and the bold one pulls her naked body off the couch, throws it over his shoulder, and they leave.

I run to the door and lock it, still clenching both the phone and the knife.

48

I stay at the door for another ten minutes, anxiously listening to the silence, trying to ignore my thundering heartbeat.

I go back to the bedroom. Lena hasn’t moved. Saliva drips from her open mouth, leaving a wet stain on the sheets. I grab her shoulders and shake her.

‘Wake up! What the hell were you thinking?’ I shout, feeling the salt of my tears on my lips. ‘Get up, you hear me?’

Lena half-opens her eyes. ‘I had to take the last ride,’ she mumbles, and rolls onto the other side of the bed.

Unfuckingbelievable. All this is just a nightmare.

The anger inside me demands satisfaction, but I realize it’s pointless for me to try to reason with her. I pick the beer bottle off the night table and hurl it at the wall. The glass breaks, splashing the leftover beer and covering the light wooden floor with brown pieces. I stare at it for another moment and go to the bathroom.

I take a hot shower. It helps to calm the shivers in my body. I go back to the kitchen and switch on the kettle. I look around while waiting for the water to boil. I open a drawer, get a black trash bag and start throwing the garbage into it. It’s lulling. The distraction of cleaning helps me to think through the events that have just happened.

I can’t believe it was for real.

I forget about the tea and continue the cleaning until the place is spotless again. As I put the full trash bag at the entrance door I realize how tired I am. I set my alarm for nine and fall asleep right on the couch.

The alarm goes off. I jerk, sitting up. I look around and sigh – it was just another nightmare. I get up. And as I walk to the kitchen, the trash bag at the door strikes my eyes. The anger returns to me, doubled, as the memories of last night come alive in my head. I go to the bedroom. My sister is still out cold. I go back to the kitchen, grab a glass jug with ice water from the fridge and poor it over Lena’s face. I don’t stop, ignoring her squeaking and choking complaints, until the jug is empty.

She sits up on the side of the bed. Her head is down, as if she is about to throw up; her wet hair drips onto her feet and floor. She lifts her head; her eyes are barely open.

‘Get up. Dress. I am taking you to rehab,’ I say firmly, using all my willpower to stay calm.

A stupid smile stretches across her face. She gets up and goes to the bathroom. When she returns, she gets back into bed, ignoring the wet sheets and pillow, and covers herself with the blanket.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I snarl. ‘Get your ass out of the bed, dress and let’s go!’

She crinkles her face without opening her eyes, ‘I’m not ready yet. I need more time to think things through.’

‘You make me pay 30k, then bring some dirty junkies here, and fuck them on my fucking bed! They almost raped me! And now you are not ready?’ I’m breathless. ‘What did you use last night? Did you inject yourself? Was it heroin?’

She mumbles something and goes back to sleep.

The rage blanks my mind.

I jump to the cupboard, open the door, grab the leather belt covered with metal studs that I usually wear with jeans. I almost run back to the bed, swing it hard and hit her over her back.

‘Get dressed. Take your shit! And get the fuck out of my place!’

She jumps up, screaming, but I don’t stop. The rage is so powerful I don’t even feel the pain when I miss Lena and the heavy buckle hits me instead. I chase her to the front door. I don’t stop hitting her until she falls to the floor, sobbing, covering her head with both hands.

I go to the kitchen to get another trash bag. Then go to the bedroom and throw her clothes into it. When I get back she is sitting with her back leaning against the door.

She is looking at me, her eyes full of tears.

‘You’re just like Mark. Either good Lena or no Lena.’

‘Don’t even start this drama. Your friends almost raped me last night. I had to protect myself with a fucking kitchen knife! You want to talk about that?’ I throw the bag at her feet, still holding the belt wrapped around my hand. ‘I’m done with you. Get out.’

‘Look at you, all Miss Right, just like Natalia. Only Natalia is not that much of a Miss Right. If you only knew what she’d done.’

I take another step, shaking the belt in the air. ‘Get out. I don’t want to hear your stories! You have a choice: go and fuck yourself up with heroin or get your ass to that rehab you made me pay for! It’s up to you, but I don’t want to be part of it. I’m done with helping.’

‘I am the one who always took care of you!’ she starts weeping again. ‘Natalia wouldn't have gone to Turkey if I hadn’t insisted. This is how you pay me back?’

She wipes her face and lowers her voice. ‘You remember that day when those bastards raped you?’

My jaw tightens.

‘Not this story again! What are you going to tell me now? That you actually tried to help me when they raped me?’ I shake my head, take another step, and lift the belt higher in the air. ‘Get the fuck out of here! No more stories.’

She gets up, pulls some clothes out of the bag without looking and starts dressing. ‘You don’t want to hear the truth. You don’t want to believe that I am not the monster. The monster is your other sister, the one you idealize so much!’ She pulls on a pair of pants, barely able to stand. ‘The cops could have locked those bastards up! All they wanted was 300 bucks. The pay-off. They always do that. Won’t lift a finger without a bribe. They could have locked Serega and the other one in jail if not for your favorite sister! Ask her! She talked Dad out of it, insisting that it would be a waste of money. “What's done is done – why pay more?” were her words, then she came up with the story for you that there was not enough evidence to lock them up.’

I close my eyes, feeling almost physical pain from Lena’s words.