Chapter 11: Jerry

Trying to get established after I got out was harder and easier than I'd imagined. I didn't face the problems of a place to stay or where to get food. I didn't even face the pressure of trying to find a job. On the other hand, when the best job I could find was working as an temp data entry clerk, it was a blow. Meeting my parole officer was another exercise in humility. She made it perfectly clear what she thought of my value to society and that it would be better off if I never saw the light of day again.

I received a call from my former employers and was complimented on my silence. I was warned that my health and that of my family depended on my continued silence. There was a hint that I might be able to find work with them, although nothing that sounded completely legal. I also found that my accounting license was being challenged. Last but not least I found that I was being kept under surveillance by what I assumed was the Drug Enforcement Agency.

All that would have been hard enough to absorb, but my problems with Jenny seemed to be getting worse, not better. It's a lot easier to hate someone, to discard them when you don't have to live with them and see their side of things. I couldn't pretend that I wouldn't have done what she'd done, and I couldn't pretend that I was this upset about not being consulted on her decision. I felt like a mean hearted SOB for feeling the way I did, but I couldn't seem to find a way to change my feelings.

After the session before last, I lost my enthusiasm for ranting at Jenny. I just couldn't muster the passion if I wasn't going to call her a slut and a whore, or something similar. Talking to a shrink has helped some, although I don't know why; I never believed in that sort of thing, certainly not that it might have any effect in just a week. Still when we went back to see Dr. Gardner after sleeping in the same bed for a week, I was beginning to think that there might be some outer limits to my anger, that I might be able to contain it. I found I was looking forward to tonight when I could say positive things to her, and I always meant those.

If only - are there any sadder words? If only I could stop seeing images of her with those officers. I keep replaying conversations I had with those men, wondering if they ever let me hear them laughing at me, taunting me. Every time I start talk to Jenny about holding her in bed, or more, I'm flooded with the image of one of those fat slobs rutting on her. Then I want to throw up as I 'hear' her cries of passion ringing in my ears.

As I lay here I can hear her breathing, she's asleep. Normally I'm asleep before she is. I've been taking a prescription sleeping pill since my first appointment with my shrink. The first two nights in bed with her, I didn't sleep a wink. I'm not sure why I didn't take one tonight, I think I wanted to see if I could sleep without it, or maybe just think things through. I do know one thing; I think I'm going to have to ask her to talk about some of the things she did in that trailer. I need to understand her side of it and I know I can't do that until we talk it out.

It was almost dawn when I stirred to half consciousness. I had moved over to Jenny's side of the bed and I had her in my arms. My hand cupped her breast and my rock hard erection was pressed into her luscious ass. I wasn't sure what had pulled me from a pleasant dream but I knew I was suddenly completely awake. Then I heard it. Jenny was pleading in her sleep. Saying things like "No, please no Dennis. Don't hurt me. Please not that way."

It wasn't coherent and she was starting to thrash. I pulled away from her, and she calmed almost immediately. I was thunderstruck - I knew who "Dennis" was, and I knew he was one of the smaller, younger, officers. If I had made a list of the ones that I think Jenny might have been attracted to, he would be near the top. I pulled away and I listened very carefully to Jenny's breathing as she settled. She was asleep. She hadn't awakened.