Episodes of Violence Page 8

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you shut it off?”

  “I had other things on my mind.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “So now what?” Sage asked standing. “No point in trashing the rest of the place to piss off Brewmeyer.”

  “It would still be fun,” Daemon said. “Destroying shit is always fun.”

  “The less time we spend here the better,” Bobby said.

  “Grab some valuables and split?” Sage asked.

  “No,” Bobby said. “The only thing we’d take is cash, and we don’t need it.”

  “Can we just look around a little?” Sage asked. “See if we can find some nasty shit on Brewmeyer. Maybe he was into child porn or something. We can ruin that fuck’s name.”

  Bobby reluctantly agreed and the house was scoured. Bobby had gone outside and shut off the car. A large safe was discovered in Brewmeyer’s basement, the thing bolted to the cement floor. There was no way they were getting inside short of finding a professional thief or dynamite and the latter might not work.

  “This sucks,” Sage said and kicked the safe. “I want to see what’s inside.”

  “Me too,” Daemon said. “Motherfucker.”

  Bobby was thinking beyond valuables or child porn. He was looking for something that would lead the cops in a different direction than he and his friends. To a different town would be best. A simple home invasion would lead the locals to look close to home. Brewmeyer was an asshole and had skeletons. Who would have thought the man used prostitutes? For all he knew, the man was a killer and planning on dismembering the hooker. There was a good chance the safe did hold damning evidence.

  “We might not need to open it in order to have its contents for public consumption,” Bobby said.

  “What’s that?” Daemon asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about all the forensic evidence we’ve left behind. It will be impossible to clean up. Not that our DNA is on file or anything, but once it’s collected it will be. Then if any of us are busted for something where we would be forced to give a DNA sample, we’ll get linked to this crime. No statute on murder.”

  “So what then?” Daemon asked.

  “We burn the house to the ground. It will destroy all the DNA. Once the place is safe, the cops will go through it. They’ll find the safe and open it. Anything damning inside will be newsworthy.”

  Sage nodded her head as if listening to music. “Yeah, I like it.”

  “Good thinking, man,” Daemon said.

  “There’s more,” Bobby said. “When they find the remains of the hooker, they’ll figure her and his deaths had something to do with Binghamton. Drugs. Money. Who knows. But it will cause the police to look elsewhere.”

  They headed to the kitchen. Daemon went to the garage and found a can of gasoline. He doused the downstairs. The burners were turned on the stove minus the flame. The hiss of gas filled the air.

  On the way out, Bobby dropped a match on the gasoline saturated carpet. Fire blazed throughout the house in minutes. The trio ran into the woods and headed back the way they came, Sage giggling all the way.

  Part II

  Amber

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been six months since Amber was raped. Officially, the forced act would have been called date rape. As far as she was concerned, date rape was a bullshit term concocted by some piece of garbage attorney to make the act of rape appear less harsh. As if getting raped by someone you knew was much better than getting raped by a stranger. Rape was rape. Plain and simple.

  Amber hadn’t been raped in an alley, or beaten and left with contusions, or came home to find a burglar had broken in who then decided to rape her. She had been pledging a sorority when it happened. Her rapist was a handsome, frat boy who came from money and held the position of president of his fraternity.

  She had rushed a few different sororities before deciding upon the one she wanted to join, Sigma Tau Sigma. Her only hope was that they wanted her too. Two days after the sorority’s mixer, she received a visit from two of Sigma Tau Sigma’s sisters and was whisked off into the night where she became an official pledge.

  She knew it was going to be hell, but well worth it. Her only sibling was a younger brother, and while she loved him and wouldn’t trade him for the world, she had always wanted a sister too. Joining a sorority would mean multiple sisters for life and ones she could count on. And it would be her pledge class that she would bond with the most, as they would have to band together to make it through the tough times. Yes, she’d have to endure humiliation, getting screwed with and broken down, but it would all be to be built back up again with an understanding of what it meant to be a sister and have a second family for life.

  All pledges went through the same torments and rituals as the pledges that had come before them. It’s how bonds were formed. Amber and her pledge class were going to have to rely on each other. They would grow close and become as one, a single unit that worked together. That was the goal of pledging.

  The first night, she’d been stripped down to her bra and underwear. Sisters from the sorority pointed and laughed. They held different colored markers and circled so-called problem areas on the pledges. As soon as Amber had been told to strip, she knew what was going to happen. Sorority and fraternity hazing rituals weren’t as secret as they used to be thanks to the internet and easily shareable knowledge. But it was one thing to have read about something, to know what was coming, quite another to go through it. The experience had been humiliating. Thankfully, Amber regularly worked out, ate healthy foods and had the DNA of an athlete. Every part of her body seemed to be just the right size and in the right place. She was toned, had a flat tummy and a sculpted ass with a puffy fullness that filled out a pair of jeans perfectly. Her B-sized breasts were perky and big enough for a handful, fitting her slim frame well. Her one big flaw—not that she saw it as one—was her appendix scar, the thing immediately circled with marker. Her right ass cheek, when positioned in a certain way showed a dimple, one her last boyfriend had found cute. It was also circled. A pimple on her chin was marked, as well as a Florida-shaped birthmark on her left hip. All in all, she made out well, especially compared to some of the other girls who had cottage cheese ass areas circled, thick thighs, pimples, scars, crooked noses and toes, stomachs that weren’t perfectly flat and one girl had her mouth circled thanks to crooked teeth. Most of the pledges were pretty girls, if not average looking. Amber found it interesting, as if she was studying something for a sociology class, how her fellow pledges reacted—embarrassed and scared.

  Amber was confident, and although she felt odd having people laugh at her and draw on her, she didn’t feel any less of a person. She was a pretty girl, above average for sure, and she knew it. Pretty girls knew they were so, but unlike many of them, Amber didn’t let it go to her head. Didn’t let it make her overconfident in life. She was not conceited. By eighteen, most individuals knew where they fared in the social game. She’d dated good-looking guys, sometimes real jerks. Got whistled at by passersby at times and hit on at parties.

  She also had a kind heart and looked out for the lesser socially accepted people, like the time she slapped Beatrice Miller for tripping Cindy Updike, one of the ugliest and most picked on girls in school.

  College was a whole new ball game. Her previous high school status and popularity meant nothing. She was a tiny fish in a vast ocean. Joining a sorority would elevate her status quicker than if she went at it alone. It was a little narcissistic, she knew, but in the real world, after college, status would mean something. Whether a person was part of a biker gang or law firm they were labeled and looked at according to their job or duties. A person’s rep carried a lot of weight. Joining one of the most popular sororities on campus, and one that was nationally recognized, would only serve to bolster her reputation.

  By the time the first week of pledging was over, Amber was emotionally and physically drained. Besides college class work, she had to learn t
he sorority’s history, including the Greek alphabet, current and past members’ names and where they lived. She and the other pledges had to do all the other extracurricular activities that came with pledging, like being woken up in the middle of the night to get one of the sisters an order of French fries from McDonalds or a roll of paper towels from the 24-hour Walmart. Then there was the real hazing, like when she and the girls were locked in the basement and had to eat bags of Tootsie rolls until they threw up. Or were locked in a small closet and each girl had to eat an entire onion before they were let out.

  The sorority had a lot of parties, or mixers as they were called. Usually, pledges were nothing more than gofers for the sisters and their guests, and not allowed to drink.

  Except for the occasional weekday—usually Thursday—parties and mixers were held on the weekend. Either the sorority would play host to one of the college’s fraternities or vice versa.

  Rules for pledges at parties varied slightly from event to event, but for the most part, a pledge was not allowed to speak unless spoken to. They got drinks for sisters or brothers, took out the trash, got more alcohol from the basement fridge and cleaned up after the party was finished. Very rarely were they allowed to wear makeup or nice clothing, most of the time having to dress in oversized T-shirts with their pledge names on the front and back.

  Amber, like most of the girls, felt as unattractive as ever during parties, but didn’t let it get her down. She wanted to remain strong-headed and never forget herself, always making eye contact with the boy guests. It was during her last mixer that she was pleasantly surprised when Rex Warchester, the President of her sorority’s brother fraternity, started talking to her and gave her permission to speak.

  Rex was incredibly good-looking. No, scratch that. He was damn hot. He stood an inch over six feet, had the build of an Olympic swimmer—she’d seen him with his shirt off at a party once; six-pack of abs, pecs of armor and python-like arms. His beautiful, brown, make-a-girl-weak-in-the-knees eyes, chiseled jawline and full lips made him the male spectacle of any party he attended.

  “How do you like pledging?” he asked.

  Amber felt her face flush as she straightened herself out. She tried to look him in the eyes, but couldn’t get past his cute dimples.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You can speak.”

  She blinked and came out of her daze. She never felt so shy before, and needed to remember to be confident, or at least fake it.

  “You know, harsh,” she said, answering his question with a smile. “Terrible in fact.” She shook her head. “But it’s as I expected.” Her heart was hammering away and her palms were slick with sweat. She couldn’t get over how ridiculous she felt, but guessed it was due to the fact that she wasn’t wearing makeup, dressed as if she were staying home on her couch ready to eat potato chips and that the sorority had broken her—a bit. Oh, and then there was her name: Bunny.

  “So, Bunny…” he said, tilting his head and grinning.

  “Yup, that’s my pledge name.”

  “Going to tell me how you got it?”

  She rolled her eyes and said, “'Cuz of my teeth and how they look when I smile, and the fact that I love carrots.”

  Rex laughed. “Interesting. I thought it was because you’re so cute.”

  Amber felt her cheeks grow heated. Her smile widened as far as her muscles would allow.

  “They don’t look so big to me,” Rex said. “I think your name was more about the carrots than anything else.”

  Unable to help herself, Amber giggled. She needed to get control of her emotions and stop acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. The whole process of pledging had made her this way. They wanted her to be uncomfortable. As strong-minded and confident as she thought she was, she had to admit, to a degree, that she did indeed feel like less of a person.

  “My name’s Amber,” she said.

  “Rex,” Rex said and they shook hands. “But you can call me Chaos.”

  “Chaos…” she said, nodding as if the name was all right. “And how did you get that name?”

  “Because I’m so level headed and cool. A straight shooter.”

  As Amber and Rex continued talking, the music grew louder. Hearing each other’s words was near impossible and Amber found herself shouting into Rex’s ear. The brothers and sisters were getting rowdier, the drinking intensifying. The living room was a packed dance floor and the air was smoke-filled. Shots were being downed and a funnel session was happening at the keg across the room.

  “Do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?” Rex asked, his lips an inch from her ear and sending pleasurable chills throughout her body.

  Yes, please. Take me up to my dorm room and put those delicious lips around my clit and make me scream your name, she thought, but instead said, “I’m really not supposed to leave the living room area except to get more drinks if needed.”

  “Between my frat’s pledges and yours, I think the party will be fine. Besides, I’m the president of the frat. No one is going to complain, and I’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble. I’m sure you could use the break.”

  She glanced around. Every one of the sisters was busy, her fellow pledges either being told to drink or just standing around. “Um, okay. Just for a bit, I guess.” Amber wasn’t naive. Rex was hoping to score. Maybe not an outright fuck, but a blow or hand job at least. He was going to be sorely disappointed if that was the case, despite how much she’d like to have a one night stand with the stud, but that just wasn’t how she did things, especially while she was pledging and especially with the fraternity’s president. If they made out a little, that would be fine.

  “Want a drink to take with you?” he asked. “I’ll serve you for a change.”

  She wasn’t supposed to consume alcohol tonight. If she was caught, not only would she be punished, but the rest of the pledges too. Hell, maybe the whole situation with Rex was a setup. A test. No, she didn’t think so. If a member of a fraternity or sorority told her to drink, she had to obey. Do whatever was in reason.

  “Well, if you’re telling me to drink…” she said, biting her lip.

  “Yes, I am.” He held up a finger. “Be right back.”

  Rex returned a minute later with two red cups of beer and handed her one before telling her to follow him. They left the living room and traveled along a hallway, and then up a winding staircase to a landing above. A few people were waiting in line for the bathroom. Though the floor trembled from the music below, she was able to talk without raising her voice. Rex’s room was at the end of the hall. As he pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door, Amber glanced into her cup and saw that it was already half empty. She’d been guzzling as they walked, needing the alcohol to calm her nerves. When the door was unlocked, Rex pushed it opened and gestured for her to enter. She said thank you and went inside.

  Rex’s room was orderly, not the frat room she thought it would be. The closet’s door was closed. A queen-sized bed was neatly made. Posters of bikini and lingerie clad women hung on the walls among fraternity plaques, paddles and other memorabilia. A mini fridge rested next to the couch that was in front of a large window with the shades drawn. He told her to have a seat and that he’d be right back, then left the room.

  Sitting on the couch, she was buzzing from the beer she drank. Another two gulps and her cup was empty. She was no lightweight. A good buzz was perfect. She could keep her wits about her while feeling much more comfortable. Hopefully, she and Chaos could make out a little. She’d even let him feel her up. But that would be it. She wasn’t going to be another notch on his bedpost or some typical sorority skank. Fooling around was fine, and if she was horny later, she knew how to take care of herself. If he was really interested in her and they hit it off, then hopefully something meaningful would come of their meeting. Dating the president could take her a long way and help her in rising through the sorority’s ranks. Maybe even snatch herself a long term relationship with a real hot guy who also happened
to be marriage material.

  Oh, Amber. You’re being an idiot now. Control your thoughts.

  By the time Rex returned, Amber was really feeling the alcohol. She’d drank plenty of times before, and knew one cup wasn’t enough to floor her, but maybe her empty stomach was the reason for how fucked up she was feeling. She needed to stay in control, but decided to go with it because it would wear off quickly. It was just an initial blast and then she’d level out.

  Rex sat next to her and asked if she was feeling okay.

  “Yeah, I just drank too fast on an empty stomach.”

  He leaned in and ran his fingers through her long golden hair. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” His hand came around and gently rubbed against her cheek.

  Chills tingled her flesh and she couldn’t help but giggle. Shaking her head, she said, “You must be drunk or need glasses. I look ugly.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said. “You’re really pretty. A natural beauty.”

  He inched closer and she could smell Peach Schnapps on his breath. His lips looked delicious, full and moist. She wanted to press hers against them. Their eyes met. Silence filled the space between them. A wordless connection was made. They leaned in and lips met. Then mouths opened and tongues explored, though Amber was having a difficult time controlling hers, as if it wouldn’t quite do what she wanted it to. Rex’s hand slid around her and up to her neck where he gripped her passionately. Hot breath escaped out of her nostrils. Her crotch grew wet. She was hot for him.

  His hands moved from her neck to her sides and then to her breasts. She didn’t mind and let him continue. He then slid them down and went under her shirt. They traveled up her stomach, fingers creeping into her bra and finding her erect nipples. Damn, she was horny, but at the same time, felt confused. Her thoughts were foggy. Her lips and tongue were sloppy, she had even less control over them. Her body grew heavy and it was difficult to remain upright, yet she wasn’t tired.