She probably believed that he didn't know she was crying in the shower as she sucked and stroked him, but he noticed. It felt like she was kissing him goodbye, not preforming an act of love. He could see her shoulders shake with her silent sobs as well.
After they were dried, he went to the kitchen and got them fresh beers, then sat up in bed with her and waited, letting her choose her time, and her words. He was a patient man. Always had been. Even as a child he was skilled at waiting things out, letting them reveal themselves before acting.
"I went to jail for muling drugs across the border," she began at last. "I had a girlfriend who did it, and she made a lot of money, so I decided to try it as well. She set me up with her buyers, and for almost two years it was a good thing. It's how I was able to buy the Shelby and several other nice things. All of those are gone now."
She took a drink. "Anyway, I got busted, and I went to jail. I got out on a reduced sentence with probation for two years. Considering the crime, it was a minor slap on the wrist, really. I was really happy with the deal my lawyer was able to get me. But then I met my probation officer and things changed fast."
"Mr. Stewart, that was his name. He introduced me to Tomas and told me that I was going to be working for him while I was on probation, and if I didn't help him, he would claim I'd violated probation and send me back for the rest of my five years. The thought of being in real prison for five years scared the crap out of me. Now, I wish I would have taken the prison instead.
"I thought I was going to be helping Tomas with busting drug dealers. You know, like an informant or something. Shake my ass, get some information, and pass it on to him. It didn't sound so bad in my head, though it did scare me a little. But, that wasn't what they had planned for me."
She paused then, and then said, "I need to tell you about me before I tell you about him."
Elias nodded but remained silent, letting her tell him what she could, and how she could.
She took a deep breath, as if she was about to go under a strong current for a long time, and then said, "At first, it was just Tomas. He told me in so many words that my body was his, and he would use me as he pleased, when he pleased. I was still thinking then that I didn't want to go to prison, and hell, it was just sex. Wasn't like I was a virgin or had any real hang-ups about it. That changed, though. Over the next several months, things changed a lot, and he scared the crap out of me. It wasn't prison any more. I was scared for my life around him. He was violent and brutal, and just plain mean."
She looked up at him. "Have you ever met someone who was really mean? The kind of mean that kills small animals and beats on kids? That's the kind of mean he is. Psychotic mean. I learned really fast that my life had no value to him at all. It wasn't even a question. It was just a fact. There was nothing I could offer him to keep him from killing me if he decided he had no use for me, and the longer I was with him, and the more I learned about what he was doing, the less value my life had. I mean, I was a liability knowing those things, not an asset. It was to his benefit to end me, not keep me. I realized after only a few months that the only reason he really had for keeping me alive was the hassle of training someone else to do the running for him."
She looked down at her hands. "So I did what he told me, and couldn't find any way out of it," she said, and took a drink of her beer. Elias noticed that her hand was shaking badly.
"Like I said, it was just him at first, and then Mr. Stewart would come over sometimes and they would both use me. It wasn't sex. They used me. Just used me. They didn't care about me at all. I wasn't even a person to them. Just a pussy, an ass, and some tits. A month later Tomas began giving me to other men. Business partners, and some of his cop friends. They would come over for poker, or drinks, and he would have me in lingerie if he was feeling good, just naked if he wasn't. Five, sometimes six of them would have me throughout the night. Anyone who wanted me would just take my arm while I was walking through the room serving them drinks, and take me back to the bedroom or just bend me over the table right there in front of the others. There were no rules, no boundaries, and I was never asked or given a choice about what they did to me. They just did what they wanted and didn't care if I screamed or was in pain or anything. "I didn't dare object either. I was already shown what would happen to me if I did.
"After that, it just got worse. Anyone who knew Tomas began learning I was fair game. I would make a run for him, and the buyer I met up with would fuck me in his car or against a wall in his office. They didn't even ask or anything. They just pulled up my skirt, pressed me against a wall and fucked me until they were done. Sometimes one of them would decide to keep me for a while, and pass me around to his friends. The first time that happened I thought Tomas would get mad at him, but he didn't. He didn't care at all. All he cared about was that I made the delivery. What happened to me after that wasn't important."
She continued to talk, spilling out forms of humiliation and degradation Elias couldn't fathom. Men, groups of men, women, acts of entertainment, forced lesbian shows, bondage, whippings—the acts continued to grow worse, and Elias found his patience with the world in general growing very thin.
She talked for more than an hour. Sometimes she would give details, sometimes she would pass over things, but at those moments he was nearly grateful that she didn't tell him. His fury was boiling inside of him like never before, and genocide was starting to sound like a good idea.
Her voice was monotone after fifteen minutes, and then just dead after that. Near the end of her monologue she began playing with her hair, and then running her fingers through the long strands and sniffing at it.
"That's what I became," she finally said at the end of her speech, and then added, "I'll get my things out of the bathroom and go to my room now."
He looked down at her. "Why?"
She froze and then stared back up at him. "Aren't you going to let me stay here at least?" she asked with a shaking voice and tears in her eyes.
Then it clicked inside Elias' mind. To her the only options for him at this point was to throw her out, or let her live in the guest room. Being with him now simply wasn't a reasonable choice for him to make.
Then her eyes went a little blank. "I'm sorry that my hair smells. I can't seem to get it clean. I've tried everything. Shampoo, soap, dish soap, laundry soap. I can't get the smell out."
"Chelsea?" he asked gently.
"He just shot her, you know. She wasn't doing it right. He made me finish him off. I do it right. I felt the splatter on me, but I didn't think it was so bad until I looked in the mirror," she told him. Then she added, "Sorry about the smell. I can't seem to get my hair clean. I should get my things now."
"I want you to stay Chelsea," he told her softly.
"Alright, I'll be in the bedroom when you need me."
"No, baby, I want you to stay here."
She shook her head slowly. "I can't get the smell out of my hair."
Elias spent enough time in Afghanistan to know the signs of PTSD when they were as obvious as this. "Just stay here for a little longer, then you can go, alright? I'll help you get your hair clean."
She nodded, her voice distant. "He just shot her. Just shot her."
Elias reached over and picked up his cell phone and thumbed up Doc's number. After two rings Doc picked up. "Doc? I need you. It's Chelsea. She's having a break down. PTSD. Can you come?"
"On my way. John will give me a ride," she told him without hesitation.
"Good. You better bring Larry, too. He'll probably need to know about this."
"Will do," Doc said, and hung up.
"She wasn't doing it right, so he shot her," Chelsea said. "You have to use your tongue or it’s not right. I should go now."
"No baby, you should stay with me just a little longer. Hang in there for me Chelsea, I'm here. I'll take care of you."
"Do you need a blowjob?"
"Not right now."
"Alright. I can't get the smell out of my hair."
She cycled through the same thoughts over and over, about her hair, someone getting shot, asking if he needed a blowjob, and then would come back around to telling him she should go to her room now. He was near tears from frustration by the time Doc, John, and Larry came into the room. She didn't seem to realize they were there. Her eyes were dead, unfocused, and her voice a wavering monotone.
Doc came to the bed, telling the men to wait out in the living room. She had a bag with her. She took Chelsea's pulse, felt her head, and then with a small flashlight checked her pupil response. "How long has she been like this?"
"About fifteen minutes before I called you, she fell into this state." Elias reported.
"Good; I'm glad you called so quickly. She's got it bad. I'm going to have to give her something to get her to sleep."
"I should go to my room now," Chelsea said to her. "I can sleep in there. I'm fine. Do you need something?"
"No Chelsea, I'm fine," Doc told her.
"I can do women you know. It's okay," Chelsea assured her.
"I'm fine, Chelsea," she said, as she fixed up a needle. "What brought this on, Elias?"
"She was telling me about her life with Tomas. God, Mary, she's been through some serious hell," Elias told her.
"We'll talk out in the living room, then. Let's get her some sleep. Physically, she's alright. I'll stay here tonight. If she wakes up like this, we'll have to admit her to the hospital," Doc told him, and then added, "You know, she is far enough gone that she may not come out of this soon. Could be several weeks. I believe you when you say she's been through hell."
"I can't get the smell out of my hair," Chelsea said, running her fingers through the strands.
"It's alright, darling. I'm going to give you a shot now, and then we're going to put you to bed. Just get some sleep. We'll take care of you."
"Do you need a blowjob?"
Doc put the needle in, and plunged. Chelsea's eyes flickered for a moment, and then her body went slack.
"I can't get the smell…" she said in a tired voice, and then she was out.
Elias eased himself out of bed and laid her down, covering her with blankets. Doc watched, checked Chelsea's pulse, and then followed him out of the room.
In the living room Larry was pacing, and John was sipping on a beer. The big man looked worried. Both of them turned as Elias and Doc joined them.
"How is she?" Larry asked.
"Not good. Definitely a PTSD meltdown." She turned to Elias. "Get yourself comfortable, big guy. You have a story to tell."
Elias nodded, and then walked to the kitchen and got a fresh beer. After some thought, he poured himself a double whiskey and downed that before he came back to the living room.
Elias told them Chelsea's story. The three of his guests listened, with varying degrees of awe, horror, and rage in their eyes.
"I think, when she told me that she had no doubt that Tomas would kill her, that what really happened was that he killed another girl right in front of her."
"That would convince me," John sighed. "Holy shit."
"Tomas is on suspension right now." Larry told Elias. "The hearing for his visit to us will be on Tuesday. I really wish we had her story on tape. I could put that fucker in jail for sure, and have him off the force so fast it would spin him hard."
"Not hard enough," Elias growled softly.
"What do we do now?" John asked Doc.
"We wait. She'll either come out of it, or she won't. If she doesn't, I'll need to admit her. I better call the hospital and make sure they have a room for her in the morning." Then she took out her phone and walked back into the kitchen as she made arrangements.
"I want this fucker, John," Elias growled.
"Easy," John told him. "We'll get him, but there are things to arrange, and things to consider. This isn't just about her. You said that she was making deliveries for Tomas. I'm thinking drugs. What are you thinking?"
Elias took a pull from his bottle and then nodded. "I agree. He's narco, so I'm thinking that some of the busts he makes come in with missing kilos and such. Then he's selling those back out on the street."
"Seriously?" Larry asked.
"Can't see it any other way," Elias told him. "He used Chelsea as a mule, so that if something went down, she would take the hit and he would be clean. As tormented and broken as he made her, she would never tell anyone about him if she was busted. Hell, she would be happy to go to prison."
"Now though, she's a serious liability," John pointed out.
"Only if she can prove any of it," Larry said.
"That's not going to be Tomas' line of logic," John told him.
"You mean, he's not looking to get her back? He's looking to kill her?" Larry asked.
"That's where my money is," John nodded.
"One thing is for certain," Elias said. "He will be back. That restraining order means nothing to him, and the only thing the suspension is going to do is give him more freedom to operate while he figures out how to get at her," Elias reasoned. "I'm going to need some men. Fifteen of them. Three shifts of five, until I can think this through."
"You got them." John nodded. "I need to talk with Wild Bill and Steve-O. We need to pow wow on this, figure out just what we are getting into, and how far we are going to commit."
Elias looked at him.
"Don't give me that look. This is some serious shit, and it has to be handled right," John told him.
Elias nodded. "I know. But just so that you know, I'm in all the way. There's no way I'm leaving her now. She made a leap of faith in there, put her faith in me, and I'm not letting her down."
"I hear you brother, and I would never expect anything else from you. I've got to consider the club as a whole though. She told you he has friends, both on the force and off. This could put us in a crossfire with the Houston PD. That's not something to take lightly."
Elias clenched his fist but nodded. "I understand."
"No, I don't think you do, but I do, and I'll make sure that this is done right," John told him. "Whatever we decide, I assure you that we won't leave you with your ass hanging out on your own. That's not going to happen. But it needs to happen right."
Elias nodded again, this time a little more relaxed. "Thanks John."
"Good. Now I've got calls to make, and men to find. I'll have at least three of them over here tonight and then we'll put together a roster of babysitters and scouts."
Elias nodded again. "Good. I better get my guns cleaned up and make some coffee."
"You do that. Larry, I want you to find out everything you can about this Tomas guy. Everything. Pull in favors, private dicks, research, everything. You have a budget of five grand."
"Got it. I'll get to work on that right now," Larry agreed.
"You know, Elias. We were into this up to our eyeballs as soon as you faced him down last week. We just didn't know it. It's a good thing she came clean now, or we would be flapping in the wind of a shit storm without ever knowing why."
"Yeah, I know. I didn't feel I could press her though," Elias sighed.
"And you were right, you couldn't. She probably would have melted down even worse, or bolted. Just making sure we are on the same page," John agreed.
Then he got up and headed for the door, but paused and turned to look back at his Sergeant at Arms. "I love you man, and I like that little girl a lot. We'll get through this."
Elias nodded, and watched the mountain he called "president" leave the house. He clenched his fist again and then let out a long breath.
"I'm out of here, too. I've got chores. I'll give you a call in the morning," Larry told him.
"Thanks. Good hunting," Elias said.
Larry clapped him on the shoulder and then followed John out of the house.
Doc came back in from the kitchen. "I have a room reserved for her if we need it in the morning. It might be best to have her examined either way, just to make sure she really is physically alright."
"You're the doc, Doc. I'll back whatever you think needs to happen."
"You know, I was listening from the kitchen. You really don't need to worry about the club. They are going to back you. You know that, right?" Doc asked.
Elias nodded. "Yeah, I know that, but when the chips are down, there's always that demon of doubt on the table, ready to take a bite out of your confidence. After listening to Chelsea, my confidence in the human race as taken a nose dive."
"Wolves take care of their own Elias. Never doubt that."
Elias nodded again, and then walked back to check on Chelsea. While he was looking her over Doc came in beside him. "Elias?" she said softly.
"Yes," he asked.
"She's basically been the victim of multiple daily rapes and degradation for more than fourteen months. That's not something many people ever recover from," she told him gently.
"What are you trying to say, Doc? I'm not leaving her, and I'm not going to distance myself either," Elias replied.
Doc nodded, "Not saying anything, Elias, just making sure you understand the road you are riding. She's going to get worse before she gets better at this point. She will probably need medications to control her PTSD, and she may even wind up disabled from it."
"Whatever she needs, Doc. Whatever she needs."
"It's a good sign that she doesn't see sex with you as a threat. Can you tell me if she seems too loose with it? Is she overly sexual?"
Elias thought about that. "No. I don't think so, at least. It never crossed my mind that she was nympho or anything. Just, well… shit, Doc, she was so happy today.
"Why don't you come back out here in the living room and tell me how you met, and what she was like. The more I know, the more I can help," she suggested.
"Yeah, alright. It's a good story, actually," he said with a weak smile.