Jimmy (12 page)

     “Wow, I kicked your ass, just like I started to kick Brett’s ass once he was down on the ground,” Alan said after winning the second game.  They had played in a neutral level - neutral meaning neither one had a clear advantage, this one being Facility - and Alan had started out in the bathroom area, which he mined really well and then ventured out in the main areas.  Jimmy, whose mind wasn’t really on the game, started on the opposite side of the level and began mining those starting locations, but then ran into one of his own mines killing himself and got thrown into the cycle Alan had created.  After that it was one sided for the rest of the game and Jimmy never even came close to beating Alan.  “Did you see that dumbass trip over the bike?  Man that was priceless.”

     Jimmy smiled. 

     “And that guy that was there.  What was that like his brother?  Man that guy is cool.  He like totally realizes Brett is a loser.  Good thing too because he lifted me off him without any trouble and probably could have kicked both our asses if he’d wanted to.”

     Jimmy knew that lifting Alan was no easy feat because even though he was only a sophomore he was no lightweight.  The two of them worked out together all the time, and while he was no body builder by any stretch of the imagination, he was stronger than most in the school and could handle himself pretty well. 

     “The only problem now is that I really have to watch my back because he is going to be royally pissed,” Jimmy said.

     “Oh, I know,” Alan said.

     In the movies bullies would back off once they realized their victims had outgrown them and could stand on their own two feet.  Brett wasn’t like that though, and Jimmy doubted most real-life bullies were.  No.  Rather than seeing this as a fight he couldn’t win, Brett was going to escalate things and would keep escalating them until they got out of control.  It was just the way he was.  And given how stupid he was he would act without thinking, which could cause a serious problem.  Jimmy wouldn’t put it past the guy to ram him with his car when he was on his bike just because he would think it was funny and would not consider the resulting consequences.

     “The only way to stop him for good is to beat the living shit out of him to the point where he is hospitalized for a while,” Alan continued.  “That would probably teach him a lesson, especially if he had to pay the bill.”

     “Maybe, but more likely it would just make him more determined to do something worse, or I would end up in jail for assault,” Jimmy said.  “I’m telling you, he’s like one of those dogs that’s too far gone to be redeemed and needs to be put down because he won’t stop biting people to death.”

     “Ah man, you just insulted some poor dogs.”

     Jimmy smiled.

     “Another game?” Alan asked.

     “Nah,” Jimmy said with a shake of the head.  “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

     “Oh, okay.  I’d probably just beat you easily again anyway, so for the sake of your ego it’s probably better not to do another round.”

     Jimmy laughed and said, “I’ll get you tomorrow.”

     “We’ll see,” Alan said while putting the controllers back on the shelf.  “We’ll see.”

     “Good night.”

     “Night.”

     Only Jimmy didn’t go to bed.  He tried, but thoughts about that nights situation kept him up, as well as thoughts on the entire Samantha King thing, ones which made sleep impossible, especially once the sexual fantasies started.  Once that happened he had no choice but to get up and take care of the situation. 

*  *  *

     Alan was still awake when Jimmy left around eleven thirty and wondered what he was doing.  It was one thing to go riding once or twice a day on the bike, but after eleven at night, and after already riding a few times that day, it started to get weird and was making him think something else was going on.  Something that Alan couldn’t even begin to comprehend because Jimmy was so different from everyone else, different to the point where normal teenage activities just didn’t fit with Jimmy.   

*  *  *

     Samantha had taken the shelf off the wall and then sat down with it, the long board cradled in her arms ready to be used as a weapon.

     The waiting was difficult.

     With her back to the wall she listened to every second tick away in her head, knowing that at any moment Jimmy could walk through the door.  At that point she would spring up and connect the board with his face and then run like hell.

     She slowly drank a bottle of water while waiting and ate several different bags of stale chips and pretzels.  The cans of food she left alone because of the risk they had spoiled.  What she didn’t know was that the Hood family had been concerned of this as well and had gone about getting foods that wouldn’t spoil, along with military rations of all kinds.  Samantha didn’t realize that the small square packages on one of the shelves were the same type of rations soldiers over in Iraq and Afghanistan were consuming, and really she didn’t care.  The chips and pretzels were fine and she ate them rapidly to fill her aching stomach.

     The worst part of the wait came when she suddenly needed to use the bathroom, and it wasn’t urine that wanted out.  The urge hit and there was no denying it, yet she still tried to wait.

     Any second Jimmy could walk in and if she wanted to surprise him she could not be squatting over a bucket.  But then ten minutes, and then fifteen minutes went by, and the urge became more and more powerful.

    
If you had gone earlier you would have been finished,
she scolded herself.  Now if she went there was the likelihood that Jimmy would walk in.

     Samantha could not wait, however, and retrieved the bucket.  She put it up against the wall where she had been sitting so she could press her back against the concrete as leverage.  Leaning against the wall to her right was the board.  If Jimmy came in while she was going she would grab it and nail him with it.  The fact that she would be naked with stuff coming out of her would have to be ignored.  Escaping this situation was too important, and people who saw her running from the Hood place would eventually understand.  Actually, being half naked would be better because people would notice her.

     Using the bucket as a toilet when she had to pee was disgusting, but mild compared to what she did now.  Taking a shit with your back braced against the wall into a bucket was pure humiliation - even when alone.

     Jimmy did not enter while she was doing this and she even managed to clean herself off with a rag.  Samantha was then back against the wall, waiting, board in hand, bucket as far away as possible.

     And then she dozed off.

     There had been a ten-minute battle in which her eyes fought to stay open, but in the end they fell shut and her body drifted off into a deep sleep.

     She dreamed of Jimmy chasing her.  The air was thick and made it difficult to run for her, but not Jimmy and he quickly caught up.  And then she was back in the room hanging from her wrists, naked, while Jimmy forced himself into her.  His penis then became a knife and suddenly started slicing her body open upward.  The sound of skin tearing filled the air.

     The sound changed as her eyes opened but did not disappear with the dream.  She jerked her head around trying to see where she was but could not focus on anything, her mind confused as to why she wasn’t asleep in her own bed.

     The sound grew louder.

     Samantha looked to the left.

     The door was opening.

     Oh shit.

     Both hands scrambled to find the shelf board.  It was in her lap yet her fingers could not grasp it.

     Using the wall, Samantha stood up and let the board flip over into her waiting palms and then took hold of one end.  Jimmy entered the room at the same time.

     A terrible charley horse lumped up in her left calf and she nearly fell over.  At the same time she swung the board in a wide arc toward the door.

     Jimmy turned at the sound, his face full of surprise. 

     In the microsecond before the board struck him in the face, Jimmy fell back and pulled the door halfway shut.  The board hit the end of the door and vibrated terribly.

     Samantha could no longer hold it as it wobbled and the board went crashing to the floor.  As it did, all hope was lost.

    
NO!
her mind cried.

     She watched the board falling the way a person would watch a winning lottery ticket go up in flames.

     Then Jimmy came in and grabbed her by the throat.  Her body was forced back against the wall, her left leg screaming, and her lungs crying out for air.

     Jimmy held her like that for several seconds, his face full of fury, his eyes almost turning red, and then threw her across the room.

     The strength he had in that one arm was amazing, though Samantha did not appreciate it as her body went tumbling to the ground several feet from him.  In fact, she could not think at all because of the terror that held her.

     Jimmy was behind her and both arms came down around her chest.  The charley horse in her leg was forgotten as he lifted her from the ground and forced her up against the opposite wall.

     His breathing was rapid and warm against the side of her neck.  She didn’t even try to break free, only wondered to herself what had gone wrong?  At this moment she was supposed to be running home, Jimmy lying unconscious - maybe even dead - upon the floor.  How had he known?

     Tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall.

*  *  *

     Anger overwhelmed Jimmy to the point where he did something he never thought he would ever do, something that he had seen countless times on TV and in bondage videos, but never thought was sexually stimulating, that being to slap a woman across the face.  Yet he did it now, and not just once.  He slapped Samantha several times while holding her against the wall, both front hand and back hand until his skin hurt, and then dragged her to the overhead pipe, the anger having failed to dissipate and mixing in with the adrenaline that had erupted.

*  *  *

     Samantha cried out as her feet left the ground and all her bodyweight was supported by her thin wrists which the knotted rope was painfully pushing together.  Both her hands became fists and her legs kicked about trying to find something - anything - to rest upon.  Nothing was there.

     Jimmy tied off the rope to the pipe and then walked over to her.  Before tying her he had stripped her down to her underwear and now stared at her half-naked body.

     She felt his eyes and then his hands on her uplifted breasts.  At first they gently caressed them, but then became rough and squeezed.

     Samantha tried to squirm out of his grip but it was no use so without thinking she kicked a leg up and connected it with his side.  Moments later she would regret it.

     Jimmy shouted as the blow landed and let go of her breasts.  She still felt his hands upon them, however, and knew there would most likely be bruises in the shape of his fingers in a few hours.

     “God,” he said as his hand rubbed where her ankle had connected.  They then dropped down to the buckle of his belt and undid it.

     “No
, I’m sorry,
” Samantha gasped; her lips sore from his repeated blows.  Even without the pain from her lips talking was difficult when hanging like this, yet her words managed to be loud and audible.

     Jimmy didn’t say anything.

     Samantha closed her eyes as his hand went back, and prepared herself for the pain.

     Nothing happened.

     She opened her eyes again.

     Jimmy swung the belt toward her.  It snapped across the side of her body and danced across her breast.

     Glass would have shattered from her scream.

     The strike was so powerful that her body started swinging from it. 

     A line of white-hot sting sprang up across the skin of her midsection.

     And then there was another from the other side as he brought his hand back, and then a third right into her stomach.  Both hurt as much as the first and she started sobbing while screaming, tears and mucus sliding down her face.

     “Only twenty-seven left,” Jimmy said.

     Samantha passed out after only eleven.

     A few moments later a splash of cold water jolted her back into her terrible situation.  Now she was wet and the next nineteen hits stung even more, though, thankfully, they were across her back this time, which wasn’t as bad, though the difference was hardly noticeable while actually being whipped, each blow causing a sharp painful line upon her skin, one which would slowly expand with an strange and unpleasant warm feeling.  It was horrible.

     When he was finished Samantha could not speak or move.  Her body was broken for the moment and she just hung there, tears plastered to her face, sweat to her body.  Had he lowered her to her feet she still would have hung there because her legs would not have supported her body above, but that did not happen.

     Instead, he came up from behind and pulled back her hair bending her head at an awkward angle.