She absently stood, only thinking about keeping her breakfast down. She tried desperately to keep all other thoughts out of her mind as she walked out of the office. Before she knew it, she was back in her suite. Her head spun. She wanted to flop on the sofa and stop the thoughts that bombarded her mind, but he could see her. Was there anywhere that he couldn’t see her?
That night they dined on the back patio, it was shaded and the night air felt warm. The yard looked picture perfect. Even with the recent heat wave which had been accompanied by a drought, his lawn was lush and green thanks to the marvels of a sprinkling system and ground’s crew. He was doing what she despised, talking about his trip to Europe, the time in New York, anything except the cameras and videos. Claire couldn’t understand how he could behave one way, say something, and then act as if it never happened. She, however, was having difficulty thinking of anything else. Her appetite gone, she barely ate any of her dinner.
Once they were done dining Tony led Claire to the movie theater. It was her retreat, a place to escape, watch singing and dancing. Tonight Tony didn’t intend to watch a musical. He programmed the video system and entered a passcode. Suddenly, the screen was full of dates and locations, such as “May 05, 2010, S.E. suite.” He had the ability to scroll to different dates and different locations. It wasn’t just her room. There were locations like garages, kitchen, foyer, stairs, theater, pool, S.E. 2 floor hall, S.E. 1 floor hall, etc.
In some humiliating form of torture he chose, 2010 March 20, S.E Suite, and then programmed the time. He scrolled up and the time decreased, 9, 8, 7. He returned to approximately 8:00 a.m. He hit enter, and there on the movie screen, bigger than life, was Claire’s suite. She wore a white robe and lay curled up on the floor near the hall door. Claire didn’t need to watch, she knew too well what would happen. She also knew that the Claire on the screen was covered in bruises, her hair was a mess, and she could see the demolition of the room. Now she heard a beep and the door opened. The screen Claire jumped up, also hearing the sound and Tony entering. “Good morning, Claire.” Screen Claire looked at Tony. “Good morning, Anthony. I want you to know, I have decided to go home. I will be leaving here today.” Screen Tony then spoke, his black eyes shining. He was smiling, “Do you not like your accommodations?” His smile widened. “I do not believe you will be leaving so soon. We have a legally binding agreement.” The real Claire watched as the Tony on the screen took a bar napkin from his suit pocket and continued, “Dated and signed by both of us.”
Claire didn’t want to watch anymore. “Please, Tony. I don’t want to see this.” She covered her eyes. Tony physically removed her hands from her eyes.
“I promised a viewing. I said you will watch. And you will.” The video had progressed in real time. Claire looked up in time to hear her own voice obviously containing alarm. “It is not the end of this discussion. This is ludicrous. An agreement doesn’t give you the right to rape me! I am leaving.” Knowing what was to come. Claire closed her eyes as she heard Tony’s hand contact the screen Claire’s left cheek. Unknowingly her own fingers drift toward her left cheek. Opening her eyes she saw herself fly across the floor and Tony walk over to that Claire. She closed her eyes again, hearing the voice on the screen with the cruel tone, “Perhaps in time your memory will improve. It seems to be an issue. Let me remind you again, rule number one is that you will do as you are told. If I say a discussion is over, it is over, and this written agreement which states whatever is pleasing to me, means consensual, not rape.” The real Claire still had her eyes shut. She knew that the Tony on the screen was straightening his jacket. She could hear him continue in a disturbing authoritative voice, “I have decided that it would be better if you did not leave your suite for a while. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time, $215,000 worth of time” She opened her eyes again to see the screen Tony step on broken crystal and speak again in a tone that made the real Claire shiver, “I will tell the staff that you may have your breakfast after this crystal is cleaned up.” The Tony on the screen left Claire’s room.
“Please stop the video,” Claire cried. She couldn’t help it. “Please, I can’t watch anymore.”
Relishing Claire’s suffering, Tony said, “Oh, there are so many videos, we can watch for hours.” He hit some buttons and went back to the menu. “For example,” the screen read, March 19, 2010, “how do you suppose your suite got into that condition? I am sure we could find out.”
“Please!” she pleaded. Her head hurt and her stomach twisted in knots. She couldn’t stand this. She tried desperately to make it stop. “Please, you are leaving tomorrow. Wouldn’t you rather spend tonight making movies instead of watching?” Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose ran from crying.
Tony smirked at her desperation. His tone dripped with ruthlessness, “But maybe we should watch some more, find out where you need improvement.”
“I will do anything you say, anything you want me to do differently, just tell me. Just please don’t make me watch.” Claire was now on the floor kneeling in front of Tony, crying. She hated that she’d been reduced to begging, but this ruined her whole compartmentalization. How could she keep these awful memories hidden if he made her watch them?
His dark eyes pierced her soul and his voice was ice cold. “You will do whatever I say, even if it is to watch. But . . .” He hesitated to add emphasis. “I do not want to spend my last night for over a week here with you in this condition.” He stood, causing her to fall back onto the floor. “I will be in your suite in a few minutes.” Claire stood. He continued, “Go up and get ready. Wash your face! You look like hell, and as far as attire . . . I am thinking some new lingerie.”
She started to leave the theater as Tony gripped her arm. She stopped, met his gaze, and listened to his steely tone, “Claire, what do you say?”
She looked at him, fire in her moist eyes. They stood silent for a moment while Claire’s confused mind spun. She couldn’t fathom what he wanted. When it hit her she wanted to scream. It took all the resolve she had not to lash out. Instead, she managed, “Thank you, Tony.”
Loosening his grip he responded, “You may demonstrate your gratitude when I get upstairs.”
Claire continued to stand, afraid to move. Her mind was a mess, not knowing what to do or say, all she could do was pray she would never see another of those videos. As if sensing her bewilderment, Tony remained in control of her motion, “You may go to your suite now.”
It was after sunrise when Claire felt Tony get out of her bed. She listened as he picked up his clothes and knew he was dressing. Next she heard him open a drawer and rifle through it. She opened her eyes and in the dim light saw him writing a note. When he turned to look at her, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Doing her best to keep her breathing steady, she remembered that he wouldn’t be back for over a week. At this moment in time, she detested everything about Anthony Rawlings.
Lust and greed are more gullible than innocence. —Mason Cooley
Chapter 12
Nathaniel didn’t mind the commute between New York and New Jersey, especially when he drove the winding drive toward his home. Each time the beautiful combination of river stone, limestone, and brick came into view, he momentarily remembered the two-room apartment he’d shared with his wife. For a young soldier recently home from fighting the Japs, it was ample. Being a soldier was the only attribute Sharron’s family had seen in him. That was the only reason they allowed their daughter to marry Nathaniel Rawls.