She’s there and I’m here. We’re both naked. We’re both tied and helpless. We have our wounds, but we’re beautiful—stretched taut and lean.
While thinking about her, I must’ve slipped off into sleep.
Soon, she came walking over to the foot of the bed. The red bandana hung loose around her neck, and that’s all she wore. She held a knife in her right hand. “Well, well, well,” she said. “Look at you.”
“I’m sure glad to see you,” I said, and wondered vaguely how I was able to talk through my gag. Then I realized that the gag was gone. “I’ve really missed you, Judy,” I said. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said.
“How did you manage to get free?”
She raised her left arm and showed me the rough, bloody stump at her wrist. “Had to gnaw my hand off,” she said.
“My God.”
She smiled sweetly and shrugged. “Ah, it wasn’t so bad. You do what you’ve gotta do. Looks like you’re in a predicament, yourself.”
“Not really.”
“You don’t think so?”
“No. This is just to look good in case Murphy gets the cops on me.”
“He won’t do that.”
“You never know,” I said. “Guys’ll stab you in the back.”
“Not this one. He loves you.”
“He loves me? Do you think so?”
“Sure. He’s head over heels.”
“I don’t know.”
“Trust me,” Judy said.
“I sure hope you’re right.” I hoped so badly that she might be right. It made me feel excited and sad and warm to think that Murphy might actually love me.
It made me feel a little like crying.
“I know he loves you,” Judy assured me. “But that doesn’t mean he’ll come back and untie you.”
“Oh, he will.”
“Maybe he will and maybe he won’t. Do you want me to cut you loose, just in case?”
It didn’t seem necessary. After all, I was sure that Murphy would soon be back. But I liked having Judy in the room with me, and wanted her to come closer.
So I said, “Yeah, maybe you’d better.”
Smiling, she strolled over to the bed. She climbed onto the mattress, swung a leg over me, and sat on my belly. Then she leaned forward. Her left breast looming over my face, she started to saw at the rope around my right wrist. Her breast shook with the quick movements of her arm.
Then it stopped.
She’d quit trying to cut through the rope.
I pulled, but my arm was still tied down.
“Why are you stopping?” I asked.
“I changed my mind. I don’t think I’ll cut you loose, after all.”
“Why not?”
“Just remembered something.”
“What?” I asked, with a bad feeling starting to chill my stomach.
“You didn’t cut me down.”
“I know, but…”
“Why should I cut you down, when you left me hanging in the woods?”
“I had to,” I said.
“And I had to chew my hand off, or I’d still be there. You know what? It hurt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You oughta be.”
“I am.”
“Prove it,” Judy said.
“How?”
“Kiss me.”
Her breast hovered low over my face, swaying slightly, looking golden in the soft sunlight coming in through the curtains. Her nipple was just above my mouth.
Opening my mouth, I raised my head off the pillow.
I flicked her nipple with my tongue.
“Not there,” she said, and thrust the gory stump of her wrist into my mouth.
“Eat it!” she yelled.
Shocked awake, I cried out—into my dish rag—and tried to sit up.
The ropes held me down.
I struggled to fill my lungs, but couldn’t get enough air. Not with the gag in my mouth. Murphy had left some slack in it, though. Rubbing my cheek against my shoulder and shoving at the rag with my tongue, I quickly got my mouth clear and took deep, quick breaths.
As I calmed down, I started thinking.
First, I’d caught a mouthful of water in the bathtub.
Now this.
Both times, I’d fallen asleep dreaming of Judy, then gotten startled awake, only to find myself suffocating.
Maybe she’s trying to tell me something.
What am I supposed to do, go back and cut her down before she has to gnaw her hand off?
Maybe she’s already done it!
Hell, she couldn’t chew her hand off even if she wanted to. It was too high above her head.
I realized that I wouldn’t be able to chew mine off, either.
What if we’re both stuck?
Don’t worry about it, I told myself. For one thing, I can probably get free if I really have to. For another, I won’t have to. Murphy should be getting back pretty soon.
How soon?
I had no idea how long he’d been gone. I’d fallen asleep almost right away, but how long had I been under? It didn’t seem like very long. Ten or twenty minutes?
He’ll be back any time now, I told myself.
How do you know?
Where’s his bank?
He hadn’t told me, but it had to be somewhere in town, probably no more than a ten-minute drive from here.
Ten minutes each way. That makes a total of twenty. And there might be a line inside the bank. So give him another ten minutes for the line.
That adds up to half an hour.
But maybe the line is really long.
Or they give him trouble about making such a large withdrawal.
Or he decides to take care of another errand or two before coming back.
Or his car breaks down.
Or he has an accident.
Or the bank gets robbed while he’s there.
And the bank robbers take him hostage.
Or shoot him.
Or he drops dead of a heart attack.
Or an aneurism.
HE’S NOT DEAD, DAMN IT! HE CAN’T BE! HE LOVES ME!
Calm down, I told myself. For one thing, he’s not dead. For another, he doesn’t love me. That was Judy saying that. In a dream. Has nothing to do with reality.
Like I said before, dreams stink. They’re no good for anything. They only exist to torture you any way they can.
He doesn’t love me, I told myself.
But he will be back.
The bank didn’t get robbed while he was there. That’s nonsense. Paranoia.
He’ll be back any minute.
Sure he will.
But maybe with cops in tow.
Maybe he’s been lying to me from the start and right now he’s telling the cops all about me.
No, he wouldn’t dare.
No matter what story he might tell the cops, he’d be in a world of trouble the moment they found me tied to the bed. A naked woman, roped down, with numerous minor injuries and his semen inside.
Before you know it, they’ll be thinking he killed Tony and abducted Judy and me.
For a while, I tried to come up with a good story to explain how it all worked. Maybe the four of us went to the park together on a double-date. I was Tony’s date and Judy was Murphy’s date. But then Murphy decided he wanted both of us, so he killed Tony, chopped him up and put him in the trunk…
How does Milo the Killer Slob fit in?