Johnny turned to T-Bird and said, "Ernie, take this for me, would you," handing him the curb-service tray that had been fixed to the window, "and pay for the bill. We'll settle later."
He started the car.
"You let me out of here, Johnny Waddell," I said, and then opened the door.
He reached for my dress and jerked me back onto the seat, tearing the material.
"You aren't going anywhere. Hank, shut the door."
"Help!!" I screamed.
He slapped me.
He reached over me and slammed the door shut himself, saying to Hank, "Thank's good buddy. We'll settle later too."
Hank looked a little scared.
A few people had gotten out of their cars, and they were looking like they thought SOMEONE should help me… not them, necessarily, but someone should do something.
No one did anything.
Johnny screeched out of the parking lot peeling rubber and leaving a cloud of thick, acrid smoke, and within a couple of seconds, he was out of the city limits, flying down the road at about a hundred miles an hour.
"Slow down, Johnny," I said, really scared. I didn't even care at that point if he beat me up. I just didn't want to wind up wrapped around a telephone pole.
He didn't say anything.
"Johnny, you didn't have to talk that way about me to your friends."
"I'll do anything I damn well please, and if you don't like it, you fucking keep your mouth shut and put up with it anyway. You hear?"
"No!"
He slapped me, never even looking at me. His hand ripped across my face.
I tasted blood on my lip where he'd connected.
"You motherfucker. You shitass pig. I hate you. I HATE YOU!!"
He hit me again.
I went crazy and jumped him.
Now… I'm sure there are those of you who will argue that jumping a maniac when he's got the gas pedal floored is not the brightest thing to do.
Neither was going out with Johnny Waddell in the first place. I just couldn't seem to find myself where he was concerned.
I wrapped my hands around his neck and started to squeeze, but that was stupid.
I could hardly get them all the way around, even using both hands at the same time.
He placed his big paw against my tits, and first, he squeezed them hard… real hard… and then he shoved me backwards against the door on the passenger's side.
I felt dizzy for a moment, and then I felt nauseous, and then I felt like my head was coming open.
He slowed down.
"Johnny, what are you going to do to me?"
Then, I started to get scared.
There was nothing around but the dark night, trees… and a deserted road down which I hadn't seen the first car running besides the one I was in.
He didn't say a thing.
He just pulled off the road, and slowed to a stop.
"Johnny, don't hurt me."
He sat there thinking… and thinking… like he was pondering all the options that were before him.
I knew he was going to hurt me. Or at least, I knew he wanted to hurt me. The only thing he wasn't sure of was how badly he was going to hurt me, and whether or not he'd let me live, or just go ahead and kill me after he'd gotten his rocks off and take his chances.
Finally, he said, "Get out of the car."
"Johnny…" I replied, my voice shaking real badly.
"Don't fuck any more with my head. Just get the kick out of the car."
I didn't want to get him any more upset than he already was.
So, I opened the door.
At first, I thought that maybe he was going to just drive off and leave me there, but then I heard the door on his side open as well.
I was really getting scared.
There wasn't even a moon this night.
I could hardly see my hand in front of my face.
The sky was a slightly paler shade of black than the thick forest surrounding us, and I could just make out the shapes of the trees along the roadside.
"Take your clothes off," he said to me.
I was crying real hard now.
"Johnny… don't do this… you don't need to do it… please… please…"
"I said, take your clothes off, honey."
"But… but…"
"But!? Don't fucking give me any shit! You do what I say, or you're going to be real sorry. Real sorry indeed. You hear me?"
I said no more.
Instead, I unbuttoned my blouse. I unsnapped my jeans. I pulled the zipper down.
I wiggled out of them, pulling the tight material down my legs.
"Johnny… don't hurt me… please… don't hurt me…"
He didn't say anything.
He just stood there.
I could make out the shape of his body now. His arms were crossed, and his weight was supported on one leg. He looked real calm and casual… and I could have easily been getting ready to fuck someone that loved me and who I loved… except that Johnny was someone who was very different from everyone else… and I was scared to death of him.
He stood there, saying nothing, but I knew that he could see me… and see everything that I was doing.
Now, my eyes ware growing adjusted to the dark, and I could see him fairly clear too.
He wasn't smiling. Whatever was on his mind, I could tell that he was serious.
Deadly serious.
"Take your shirt off. Come on… hurry it up."
"It's cold out here, Johnny. Honest… I'm shivering."
"I'm getting ready to warm your ass up, don't you worry about that, Darling."
"Johnny, I didn't do anything to hurt you. I don't know why you have to be so mean to me."
"Take your clothes off, you worthless damn cunt, or you're really going to regret it."
I started to cry, but I guided my trembling fingers to my blouse and pulled it down over my shoulders.
Then, unclasping my bra, I let that fall to the ground as well.
"You're still wearing your panties," he said. "You can take them off yourself, or you can let me do it. If I do it, you probably won't be able to wear them again. So why don't you save me the trouble of ripping them off your body, huh?"
I took them off, and then, I was standing naked by the side of a deserted country road, not having the faintest idea what was coming up next.
"Turn around," he said. "Lean up against the side of the car."
I started to shake from fear. "No… oh God… no… no…"
I still didn't even know what he was going to do, but I didn't like the sound of it.
"Do what I said," he replied, sounding tired, like he was getting annoyed at me for "making" him do all this stuff that he really didn't want to do.
The bastard.
He stood there, arms still crossed, watching me… waiting… knowing that in the end, I would do anything he told me to do. I would do it because I sincerely believed that to go against him would be much much worse than anything he could try to make me do.
He had a temper that was absolutely uncontrollable, and once he lost it, there was no way to predict what he would do.
The fastest way to make him lose his temper was to not give him what he wanted, no matter how unrealistic or unfair it was. Because then, he'd just go berserk and the motherfucker was like a wounded bull elephant when that happened, and since no one that I knew in town, least of all me, had an elephant gun, it was always better to just let him have his way.
So I turned around.
I leaned against the car.
The flat of my palms pressed against the cold metal of his car. I felt the sandy shoulder of the road with my bare feet, and the cool evening breeze wafting over my naked skin.
I was shivering, but not just from the chill. I was scared. More scared than I'd ever been in my life.
Then, I heard him pulling his belt off.
I started to cry even harder. "Oh… Johnny," I sobbed. "Don't… please… don't…"
"You just stay right where you are, Junella… don't you fucking move a muscle. You hold right there, until I tell you to move."
I heard the buckle of his belt jingling. I didn't know what he was doing with it, but I had a pretty good idea.