Chapter 8

That night – actually, very early the following morning – the sudden buzz of his phone on the nightstand woke Matt from a deep sleep. But, his fitness and his training allowed him to shake off the cobwebs quickly and sufficiently enough to sound somewhat rational when he finally got around to answering the call.

Matt noted two things immediately before hitting the answer hot spot on his phone’s screen. The call was from David Burton and it was an ungodly early hour for him to be calling Matt. They had made arrangements the night before for Matt to pick David up at his usual 7:30 a.m. morning pick-up time. This meant that some emergency had probably arisen out at the plant. Or maybe it was some emergency of a personal nature that would require Matt’s presence and assistance this early in the morning.

All of this shot through Matt’s mental processes in the split second before he said, “Yes, Sir?” rather than offering a simple hello.

“Matt!” David’s voice sounded as if he were under extreme stress. For a moment, Matt wondered if the Burtons might have experienced a home invasion, and he instinctively reached for his Ruger as he swung his legs out of bed. He waited for a moment to hear if David might use his ‘Under Duress’ code word on which they had agreed, at Matt’s insistence – and also had drilled on at least two occasions; also at Matt’s insistence.

But the code word never came.

“I need you over here now!” David continued. Before Matt could ask, the Senior VP went on. “Something has happened to Jan. Just get over here, so that we can deal with this as quickly and quietly as possible.” Then he added, almost sotto voce, “That fucking bastard!”

Confused, Matt knew that whatever he said now, other than to acknowledge his boss’s request, would not add anything worthwhile to the conversation, so he simply said, “Give me twenty minutes.”

Then, hit by a sudden thought, Matt asked, feeling that he needed to stay on the formal, professional track with this conversation for some reason, “Sir, is Mr. Pittman okay? Is he there, or do you need me to pick him up and...”

“No!” David Burton almost shouted. “I don’t need Brad involved in this ... yet. We don’t want the wrong guy to go to jail ... never mind that. Just get here as soon as you can,” and then David did something that Matt had never encountered before with his principal.

David Burton simply cut off the call without saying anything to end the conversation in a personable manner.

‘This is not good!’ Matt said to himself as he tossed the phone on the bed and raced to the bathroom to get the water warmed up enough to shave while he returned to his dresser briefly to reach for a clean t-shirt.

Matt wanted to kill someone!

Whoever had done this needed to die slowly; and painfully!

Then, when David gave him the gist of what had happened to Jan Pittman, and Matt saw the welts, cuts, and bruises on Jan’s beautiful body for himself as Midge tried to put fresh bandages on the younger woman’s scraped knees, Matt knew that Gavin Riggs was destined for unpleasant consequences in the near future – if not from Mr. Morris and the others within the company hierarchy, then from Matt personally.

Matt’s hand was not trembling as he held the cup of coffee that David Burton had handed him before getting one for himself. But that was only because of the focused, deliberate effort he put into not spilling his coffee on Midge Burton’s light-colored living room carpet.

Both David and Matt sat in wingback chairs on one side of Midge’s formal coffee table. Midge sat on part of the sofa across from them. With her sat an almost-unrecognizable Jan Pittman.

Midge and Jan both wore light, but not overly sexy, robes and slippers. While Midge kept her body covered by tucking the ends of the robe she wore, the same could not be said for Jan.

The young redheaded woman, almost ten years younger than Matt, was obviously in pain. She sat in a partial slouch, avoiding one buttock, and she paid no attention to the details of modesty where the short robe was concerned. Consequently, the robe tended to part as she would shift occasionally to ease some fresh ache, pain, or other discomfort.

When he looked her over, while he sat there waiting for David to come to some decision that the Senior VP seemed to be pondering, Matt noticed some of the signs of abuse that had been heaped on Jan. The red mark across her face, from just under her left eye, stretching across the bridge of her nose, and then fading across her right cheek, indicated that someone had whipped her with a strap or belt. And whoever had done it had taken no care to avoid her face.

Matt’s fury burned within him as he noted the facial damage. She could have easily become blind in her left eye if whatever had struck her had impacted just an inch higher!

The parting of her robe indicted that the stripes from Jan’s beating extended to her chest and abdomen. Her badly bruised left breast popped out for a short while as she shifted. Midge had to put her own coffee cup down in order to free up her hands to assist with covering her friend.

When Jan moved her hands, Matt could see the angry red ligature marks around both of her wrists. Obviously, her wrists had been either bound or handcuffed during all or part of her ordeal.

While Midge worked on closing Jan’s robe, Matt noticed the blood soaking through the bandages that Midge had applied to the harsh scrapes on Jan’s knees. They may have begun to scab over a bit already, but the blood was still visible. Evidently, she either had fallen to her knees repeatedly or had had to crawl across a rough surface, like concrete, or maybe even gravel, sometime during her ordeal the previous night.

She also wreaked of sweat, old perfume or cologne, booze, and other odors. But the most prominent odor that Matt could recognize was the unmistakable odor of semen. Even if the smell had not been so noticeable, then the clots of cum in Jan’s hair and the shine of it dried in spots all over her arms, legs, and almost every exposed patch of skin that he could see, indicated that she had been subjected to massive numbers of male sexual ejaculation in the previous few hours. Someone, quite simply, had used her as a cum dump.

The brief view that Matt had had of Jan’s pussy as she had begun to sprawl a bit with her legs parting before Midge had lent a hand revealed that her labia were red and purple, obviously bruised from a brutal bout of sex, probably by the many men evidently whom she had either been told to fuck, or to whom she had simply been given sexually the night before. Matt could not help it that his heartbeat got faster as he sought to control his rage at the thought of this sweet young woman being brutalized in the way that she had evidently been.

After closing Jan’s robe and pushing her legs together one more time, followed by a gentle swipe with one hand to push a stray lock of red hair out of Jan’s face, Midge smiled and whispered to the younger woman what seemed to Matt to be a question. Jan’s eyes appeared to carry a dull glaze, but she also appeared cognizant enough to nod in reply to what Midge had evidently asked her.

When Midge turned back to look at David, she raised one eyebrow. She said softly, “It would appear that the drugs Damon gave her have begun to kick in well enough now.” Matt had briefly met Dr. Damon Green, the Burtons’ next-door neighbor and good friend – he’d have to be for them to be getting drugs of the potency necessary to ease Jan’s suffering without any records being kept – on his way out the door as Matt was coming in.

David just nodded and took another sip of coffee before looking at his watch. Matt unconsciously glanced at his own in a Pavlovian reaction to his boss. It was approaching 8:00 a.m. Matt was surprised that they had been sitting here for over two hours; quite a bit of it in silence after the brief telling of the tale of depravity, waiting for some sign from Jan as to her condition, and from David as to what to do next.

“I guess I’m going in to the office a few minutes late this morning,” David said finally, setting his coffee cup down and standing. He turned and went upstairs, returning in about a half hour, dressed in one of his suits; ready to face the day. Matt stood to go with him.

Before turning to the door, David came over to Jan and said, “Come on, Jan. It’s time to go.”

Matt was surprised that David evidently planned on taking Jan in to the office with them. But he said nothing as they eased her into the back of the limo before David climbed in and then took Jan gently onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, not even worrying about seatbelts.

Matt closed the door gently behind them and then climbed in to start the car and drive them out of their cul-de-sac. Matt was somewhat relieved that no neighbors from nearby houses had appeared in their yards or driveways to question why the two well-dressed men were loading a scantily-clad, messy-looking, and obviously injured and heavily-drugged woman into the back seat of a limo.

Matt looked in the mirror. With the privacy screen down, he could see that David still had his arms wrapped around Jan and he was whispering what appeared to be words of comfort to the woman who, despite all the drugs, was obviously still in quite a bit of pain.

The limo carrying David Burton and Janice Pittman, and being driven by Matthew Winstead, arrived at the special private entrance to which David and the other Senior Executives had special keys for exclusive access at the rear of the main building. Matt helped David extract Jan from the back seat once they had parked.

“Oh, no! Mr. Burton, please. I don’t want to screw things up,” Matt heard Jan say when she became aware of her surroundings.

David smiled, kissed Jan’s forehead affectionately and said, “Sweetheart, relax. You won’t screw anything up. You’re going to make them infinitely better. Trust me on this.”

Jan nodded and sighed and let Matt and David support her as they led her down a quiet hallway that Matt had not realized was there before this morning; as he and David normally arrived and departed via the main entryway. There were no secretaries or receptionists here. There was just a short narrow corridor that connected Mr. Morris’ office, the Senior Executives’ offices, and a medium-size conference room. Evidently, the conference room was where they held their morning staff meetings.

David and Matt guided Jan inside. The quiet conversation came to a halt entirely as they entered.

David said, “Gentlemen, I apologize for being so late.”

Matt noticed that everyone was looking at Jan curiously; everyone, that is, except for Mr. Riggs. He had what to Matt seemed like an arrogant look of indifference on his face. In fact, he looked as if he were not at all surprised by Jan’s appearance. Matt wanted to jump across the polished conference table and strangle him slowly in order to watch the sadist’s eyes as the light slowly faded from them as Matt’s hands squeezed the life out of him.

Mr. Morris looked up and, in a stern voice, said, “Heather, please leave the room.”

Everyone in the room recognized the barely-controlled anger in his voice.

Matt watched as Heather got up and left the room quickly. He hadn’t even noticed that she was in the room until she was asked to leave. He wondered just for a second who was manning Heather’s desk, located in its strategic position, to guard access to the sanctity of the President’s offices while she had been in the conference room; but he did not have time to dwell on that thought as he watched her shapely ass move smoothly on her way out the door.

Matt helped David hold Jan up as she began to show signs of fatigue, and the effects of the drugs in her system took hold more on her. When she seemed to want to sag, David pulled her close to him, supporting her against his own body with his left arm around her waist. He had his briefcase in his right hand.

No one seemed to notice or care that David Burton’s driver was still in the room. Matt was standing very close by, ready to catch Jan if she were to slip out of David’s grasp.

David looked over at Matt and softly asked him to take on the burden of supporting Jan while David slowly pulled his arm from around her.

David put his briefcase down and turned Jan so that she faced him, with Matt supporting her now. He loosened the belt on her robe and carefully removed it. When Jan was naked, he turned her around to face the six other people in the room.

Jan just stood there, not knowing what to say or do. All but one of the men gaped at her in disbelief as they beheld the angry red stripes, scrapes, cuts, and bruises all over her body.

Mr. Morris asked quietly, “David, what happened to her?”

Mr. Burton just pointed at Mr. Riggs.

Mr. Riggs shrugged nonchalantly and said, “So what? She’s just a slut.”

From his tone of voice, everyone could tell that he really didn’t know what all the fuss was all about. He just didn’t get it.

Mr. Morris leaned forward and pushed a button on the intercom. He said, “Heather, ask my driver to come in here.”

Then he turned to Riggs and said, “Give me your keys.”

Mr. Riggs suddenly turned white. He looked like he had just been punched. Matt could see from Riggs’ facial expression that he really could not believe that what he had done to Jan even mattered. He stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his keys. He slid them down the table to Mr. Morris.

Mr. Morris caught the keys and then carefully put them down on the table in front of him. He seemed to be moving in slow motion. He was obviously struggling to keep from doing something violent. Everyone remained silent, waiting to see what was going to happen next.