chapter twelve

On an abnormally warm day when most of the occupants and non-occupants, or “just semi-permanent visitors” of the house were out doing their own things Jill sat curled up in an armchair reading one of Taylor’s books which he’d force-loaned to her with the promise of greatness. To Taylor everything that ranged from “pretty cool” to “superb” was described as “great”. It was a charming little trait of his to be sure. The only people sharing the house at the moment was a man named Big Mike, Cameron, Gretal, and Tal. Gretal was in the yard as usual and the two men were in the kitchen cleaning up from the late lunch they’d recently enjoyed. Tal was sitting on the couch near Jill “just being” as Gretal put it.
Sometimes Jill wondered what Tal thought of having her actions described and titled by others but she certainly didn’t appear to mind. Once in a while Jill felt Tal’s eyes on her. She used to be unnerved by Tal’s rapt attention but considering there wasn’t a trace of hostility, judgment, or jealousy in the woman’s, well, probably in the woman’s whole body, Jill had taken to finding in it comfort.
The front door burst open with a suddenness that would have startled Jill if its timing wasn’t so damn irritating: she was at a pretty great part in the novel. She looked up to witness four men attired generically enter the house with drawn guns pointing every which way. Jumping up wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done for their attention was instantly drawn to her and suddenly every barrel was her direction. She stopped and offered a little raise of her hands when another man came inside, this one walking and certainly taking his sweet time. He wore dark sunglasses and, unlike his peers, dressed impeccably. This one enjoyed money.
Man sauntered over to Jill and thoroughly looked her over; there was no comfort in this scrutiny. He began circling her and while he did this the kitchen door too slammed open admitting Mike and Cameron, hands held high, and yet another stranger behind them. Guess what he held. The sunglassed man had finished his perimeter and seemed annoyed that Jill’s attention had strayed so to show his displeasure he backhanded her roughly across the cheek. While Jill wasn’t proud of her earlier reaction she had been slapped before and didn’t stumble or cry out. She had at least as much pride in that as the man had anger at his impotence. When she met what she assumed to be his eyes behind those glasses her own showed nothing save emptiness. He removed his shades and his eyes were too blue to be cold and she realized he hid them for their beauty. They stood looking at each other, summing one another up, and in the end he actually looked away, saving himself by using the heretofore undisturbed Talthea to voice his upset façade.
“What the hell is this? One of you fuckers cover this bitch already! Goddamnit but you’re dense. And tie those motherfuckers up already! Fuck,” he indicated Mike and Cameron. Big Mike, actually a man of merely 5’2, looked sincerely scared and stood where he was shaking vehemently. Cameron however stayed outwardly unmoved and recorded every image with that photographic memory of his. This relieved Jill for she wasn’t now the only one remaining calm and wouldn’t have to be relied on solely for information later on. Actually, now that she thought of it, Tal was calm also. She hadn’t stood up at all and now seemed to politely consider the whole scene. But from where Jill stood she could see that Talthea’s eyes were much colder and calculated then she’d ever seen them and knew she was far from alone here.
How interesting.
Only one discrepancy shone through Jill’s mind: where was Gretal? With a glance at Tal she knew she’d noticed too. There was a triangle of sheer, wild panic in the far reaches of her eyes that not even Jill would normally have identified but in all this chaos Jill felt far more perceptive than she had in years. Mike was bound and gagged so as to cease his soft cries. He had been with them for the shortest amount of time and in his last environment he’d not exactly been prepared for a crisis situation, quite the contrary in fact, and while Jill hoped him well and would like to see him soothed, her past survival instincts were in full swing and at the same time she just wished he would shut the hell up before he made everything worse. Finally she just had to know what was going on, in spite of the consequences.
“What is this? Who the hell are you guys and why are you in our house? Sorry if I missed this lesson in etiquette but as far as I know it’s not sane behavior to bust in on someone and wave guns around, as excited as apes jacking off. Where you guys from anyway? No wait, lemme guess. The zoo, right? Come on you can tell me.” She knew it was a little harsher than was secure but she couldn’t help herself. They become violent, she becomes insulting. What other course was there?
For a second they all just sort of looked at her like they couldn’t believe she just said that to the men with the weapons but the apparent leader, Bluey let’s call him, just smirked and walked back over to her. He started to grab her neck with his left hands so she suddenly leaned in too close for comfort and kneed him hard in the crotch. He didn’t like that so much. Finally he stopped with the “manhandling of girls 101” style and straight out socked her in the face like a real man. Hard. Emotion does that to you.
This time Jill fell to the floor and when immediately she started to stand back up Bluey none-too-gently placed his none-too-clean boot onto her chest, forcing her back down. His exploit proved ineffective. Blood puddling at the corners of her lips still she smiled sweetly up at his scowling and no longer impassive face. It’s good having no fear of one’s own mortality.
“I’m done with you,” he growled and kicked her once in the side before stationing someone else in front of her and stomping off towards the kitchen. The boy over Jill now looked like he couldn’t figure out how he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Seeing his all-out hesitation Jill seized the moment to climb onto her feet and right herself while he was still unsure of what to do. Whatever he decided she knew he wasn’t about to hit her.
Bluey must have composed himself ‘cuz he just then walked back out of the kitchen. His eyes flared when he saw Jill standing but he did nothing. Now that the men were tied up they were tossed onto the couch Talthea still sat on, studying Jill at this point, and Bluey himself gracefully floated down into the armchair Jill had been sitting in only minutes before. He fondled the book and the arm and seemed to be reading a bit of it before he motioned something to the guy covering Jill and she found herself falling to her knees with a splitting headache at Bluey’s feet. Geez, she was wrong about the kid not hitting her.
And there they splayed: an armed man situated at each entrance to the room; two men holding pointed guns at the backs of the heads identifying Big Mike Cortez, Cameron Scott, and just plain Tal; a man whose sunglasses have returned lounging in a blood red, oversized armchair with a massive superiority complex; a young guard, young enough to be in high school, standing behind a kneeling Jill whose head remained high; and only the eyes of a short, talkative middle-aged woman who found herself rendered speechless right before ducking back down under the window and running toward the nearest neighboring house a few hundred yards away.
Bluey spoke, “Well now that we’re all here we can finally begin. That is, if there’re no more interruptions.” He looked at Jill but her eyes remained reverted and fixed so he continued. “We don’t want to hurt anybody. We happen to think you guys are pretty swell human beings. We just want Ravyn.”
No one moved or said a word. The only sound to be heard was the perpetual sobbing of Mike only accentuated by its muffle.
“Come on fellas,” he bordered a whine. Jill would bet he thought it made him sound charming and harmless, the bastard. “Listen now. I’ve already told you we’re not going to hurt you. But the thing is, that promise can only be ensured if you guys cooperate. We want to know both where he is and who he is. That is, if one of you aren’t him. Raavyynnn? Are you really gonna let your people start dying just to keep this perverted little secret of yours intact?” None of them gave him anything and his steady gaze focused on Big Mike, the weakest link. Based on experience he’d either crack first or, being in such a pathetic state, cause one of the others to spill once he starts getting hurt. Jill knew all about this mental warfare and discerned Bluey’s look easily. They always go for the one that screams loudest.
Before the man behind Mike started pulling the trigger in the most painful areas Jill had an epiphany. Right before Bluey signaled she spoke up.
“Damn you certainly are a sexist motherfucker aren’t you,” she incriminated herself. “Or are you just misogynistic? What was it; did you mama used to slap you around? Was your sister a slut? What was so traumatizing that you become deaf when I’m practically screaming in you ear? Ravyn’s not a man, I’m Ravyn you son of an abusive, slutty bitch.” Oops, too late now. Jill could feel the other captives gaping at her but she forced herself not to look and bring Bluey’s attention back to them.
Bluey’s eyes widened and he looked down at the gorgeous and sneering face practically resting on his knee. “You? You’re the whore that got my brother killed?”
“Actually, if you’re talking about that asshole from a few years back I’m the whore that killed your brother.”
He looked skeptical and said, “Now I know you’re lying. That Mexican bitch Oralia pulled the trigger. What the hell are you trying to pull?”
Jill realized the extent of her actions. She knew that at this moment she had been given a back door to get out of the mess she’d made. But she also knew the consequences her life would cause for all siese people she’d recently gotten close to...the only friends she’d ever really known. How could she punk out now?
Making her choice she lowered her voice to chilling whisper but it was a whisper everyone in the room heard, “Where’d she get the gun?”
At first taken aback he was raging when he computed her words. She knew she’d hit the mark. The police reports said nothing of her but someone close to the couple would know Oralia would never have been allowed to have anything resembling a weapon. She’d found the words to damnation.
Bluey waved the men at the doors out to the car and when they returned they were holding wooden baseball bats. His fiery eyes were crazed and he pulled Jill towards him so that she was between his knees when he clamped them shut menacingly. Jill took a moment to contemplate her worrisome situation before letting go of any attempt to control it. He tore off his sunglasses once again and his fingers rose to her chin squeezing condescendingly. He lowered his face so that it was level with hers and she could feel his warm breath drifting across her lips and eyelids. His lips were an inch and a half from hers and their noses grazed. He wanted to show her exactly how much this was going to mean to him and when their eyes met she knew; and for the first time she was scared. This revelation seemed to excite him and he softly kissed her his gratitude. After he’d gotten his fill of the fear in her eyes, which quite contradicted her earlier bravado, he smiled cruelly and said, “Don’t hit her in the face boys. It’s such a pretty face…” It wasn’t a coincidence that without head hits this last experience would be drastically prolonged. Yet Jill would have sworn she saw something flicker in those exquisite eyes, something like contrite, regret.
He released her and stalked away without a backwards glance and with the first slam of the bat against Jill’s fragile body she was gone.

“Jill open your eyes,” and she did. Although she’d never heard the voice before she knew whose it was. Talthea sat cross-legged on the floor huddling Jill close to her. Jill couldn’t move and didn’t completely understand why but she wasn’t worried. She looked up into Tal’s lovely eyes and tried to smile. She hadn’t been sure if she was successful but Tal smiled back so she knew she must have gotten the point across somehow. Talthea’s eyes shone only love but as Jill’s eyes began to focus she saw that those surrounding her revealed deep concern.
Ravyn suddenly came into view and kneeled to look at Jill. He appeared both disturbed and worried. He even looked a little angry. He spoke, “Jill what the hell were you thinking? Why did you say you were me? Why did you do it?!” He sounded close to panic. She decided she didn’t want to deal with him at the moment so she began to drift back into that warm sleep she’d wrenched herself out of but Ravyn wouldn’t allow her any rest. It kinda annoyed her; after all she’d done for him… She just wanted to rest her eyes for goodness sake.
“Jill! C’mon Jill answer me!” he demanded.
She thought she yawned and replied tiredly, “C’mon Ravyn, don’t be mad. I’m expendable. You’re not.” Once again she drifted.
Harshly she was shook awake once more and Ravyn was calling to her, “Jill! Jill! Wake up Jill! Ji—” and she remembered.
She snapped awake and said, “Don’t call me that! Stop calling me that. My name is Grace Delacroix.” She began to relax again. “I was named for my mother.”
Then she smiled reminiscently at things which weren’t truly there before she closed her eyes for a final time and ceased breathing.