Chapter 11

Once again I found myself inside Angelo's plush limo. But this time the ride was chilly, and it had nothing to do with the air conditioning. We sat on opposite ends of the seat, not speaking, not even looking at each other. He was clearly uncomfortable around me now. And I didn't understand him. He had shown me photographs of Joan that made me sick. And he told me how he was going to make the rest of Professor Rogers' life miserable. Angelo had said he wasn't like his father. Yet he was capable of doing terrible things that most people would find morally inconceivable. But what disturbed me most was that part of me was glad he was making my tormentors suffer. An eye for an eye. They showed me no mercy so why should I feel sorry for them?

Slouched in the rich, leather seat, I gazed out the window submerged in that mindless state of not really looking at anything. My mind was consumed with troubling thoughts. But I sat upright when I noticed the green and white Sky Harbor Airport sign. My curiosity piqued. I turned to Angelo. He was twirling an empty Coke can on the seat between his spread legs. I leaned forward and looked out my window with interest.

"Where are we?" I asked and then turned to face him.

Angelo glanced out his window and then looked at me. There was sadness in his eyes. "The airport," he said solemnly.

"But what terminal?"

"It's the private planes area. Louie called ahead. My pilot is waiting and the plane is fueled."

"You have your own airplane?!"

"Does that bother you?"

"No, it's just ... wow. Cool."

I thought I saw a faint smile, but it quickly vanished. He crushed the can and let it roll off his fingers to the floor. Then he turned to me and was about to say something, but looked back down.

I was like a kid in a toy store, excited and looking everywhere at once as we walked to the sleek white Learjet. No ticket counter. No security. No rushing. No check-in line. No crowds. A pretty girl stood at the foot of the stairs leading into the airplane. She was about my height with a similar build. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung halfway down her back. The more I studied her the more I realized she could pass for my younger sister. Instead of an unflattering flight attendant uniform, she wore a very nice pale-blue blouse with navy pleated skirt. The skirt was so short that a sudden gust of wind flipped the front up. Her rather brief white panties showed before she frantically slapped the skirt back down.

Stepping into the airplane, I stopped with one foot on the stairs and one inside the plane. It was much smaller than I had expected. But then again, my only experience was with big commercial aircraft. The other thing that caught my eye was its luxuriousness. Four individual seats, in cushy light brown leather, filled the middle of the cabin. They were arranged as a conversation area with each pair facing the other. The aisle between the two pairs led to two seats against the back wall. Those seats were wall to wall like a bench seat in a car, except much more comfortable. The bodyguards had preceded us into the airplane and were sitting in the back seats shoulder to shoulder. Angelo directed me to one of the individual seats facing the front and he took the one next to it.

I had resisted pressing the buttons in the limo, but my willpower faltered in the Learjet. I flipped a lid on the side, unfolding a tray with cherry-wood trim. Angelo chuckled so I quickly put it back.

The girl in the short skirt asked Angelo if he was ready, and when he said he was she went to speak to the pilot. Angelo told me to buckle up and then the girl sat in a pull-down seat up front.

It was only a few moments before the airplane began moving. I pressed my nose to the window like a child seeing her first snowfall. I turned and saw Angelo smiling at me. I smiled back. But then I was once again looking out as we lifted off the ground. I loved the feel of takeoff and seeing buildings and cars shrink right before my eyes.

"It's a short flight, but if you want anything let me know," Angelo said when I turned around again.

"Where are we going?"

"Nogales."

"Mexico?!"

"Sí, señorita," he said with a rather poor Spanish accent.

"How'd Leia get to Mexico?"

Angelo hesitated and then said, "I don't know the details, but I believe in the trunk of a car."

I decided not to ask any more questions.

When we landed and deplaned, I walked silently wondering if I should have come. What was I to learn about Leia's fate?

Angelo and I walked side-by-side behind his two bodyguards. I stopped short when we approached an old van parked in an isolated area. A large man in a tight black tee-shirt and jeans leaned against it with his arms crossed over his barrel chest. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips, the smoke causing one eye to squint. When we got close, he pushed off the van and stomped out the cigarette. The van was dented, rusty, and dirty. Angelo realized I had stopped and turned.

"It's best not to be conspicuous," he said.

The bodyguards and the Mexican man spoke softly and shook hands before the Mexican hurried to the driver's side and got in. Maxie opened the passenger door but remained outside. His eyes constantly scanned the area while Louie opened the back doors. He too looked around.

Angelo nudged my lower back so I walked to the rear of the van. For the second time, I stopped in surprise. The inside was stunning. A couch ran along one wall with a bar and chair across from it. It was even carpeted.

I looked at Angelo when he took my arm. He nodded so I stepped up and into the van. I felt Angelo's other hand on my lower back, and when I rose it slid to my buttocks. I thought he'd be embarrassed and jerk his hand away, but it lingered until I was out of reach. Angelo climbed in behind me and so did Louie who closed the back doors after taking one last look around. Instantly, lights illuminated the windowless compartment. Louie, stooped over, made his way to the front side and slid a metal plate open. He told the driver we were ready. I heard a door slam shut and assumed it was Maxie getting in. Louie slid the metal plate back and sat in the chair across from Angelo and me.

Soon we were bouncing along. Every time Louie made eye contact with me I would look away. And then one time I didn't.

"I'm sorry about your car," I said.

"No problem."

"I mean it. I didn't know who you were. I thought you wanted to hurt me."

"I know. I was stupid. It was my mistake."

There was nothing more to say so the three of us drove in silence, deep in our own thoughts. My mind was filled with images of Joan being whipped and sexually abused -- and worse. And then I thought about Professor Rogers. He had been a colleague of mine. I never liked him and despised him for what he had done, but I shuddered nonetheless picturing him on his knees staring at a grimy wall sucking cock after cock. I momentarily conjured up the image of him with his back to the wall, bent over with his hands on his knees, being fucked in the ass by an unknown man. But I pushed that image quickly out of my mind. He had been a respected college professor who people had treated with reverence. And now he was a "cum dump." I glanced over at Angelo and wondered what he was thinking. His eyes were glued to his lap. Then I glanced at Louie whose was staring at me. He's probably thinking about his damn Cadillac, I thought as I looked away.

The van stopped. But when it suddenly moved backwards I was caught off guard. One hand slapped the couch next to me and the other Angelo's thigh. I quickly clasped my hands in my lap and looked down like a little girl caught doing something wrong. The van continued backing up and then came to a complete stop. Louie got up and slid the metal plate to the side. Some words were spoken and then he turned to Angelo.

"We're here, boss."

I started to rise but Angelo's hand on my shoulder kept me seated. Louie crouched at the back of the van until we heard a series of knocks. Only then did he open the doors a little to peek. Opening them further, he jumped out. I was amazed at how agile his large frame was. Angelo and I waited.

When Louie stuck his head into the van and said, "All clear," Angelo stood. I looked up at him and he held his hand out. Taking it, I got up. After Angelo climbed out of the van he turned to me and raised his hands. When I leaned forward to get out, he grabbed my waist and effortlessly lifted me to the street.

"I guess you're not that scrawny kid anymore," I said with a chuckle.

Angelo blushed and glanced at his bodyguards. They remained stoic, both maintaining their poker faces.

The van had backed into an alley. Overflowing trash cans lined one wall and bags of garbage, cardboard boxes, and wooden crates lay scattered about. The smell was foul and flies buzzed around. It was creepy and not a place I would want to be alone. For the first time I was happy to have the big bodyguards nearby.

"Where are we?" I said in a hushed voice. There was no need to whisper, but it seemed like everything was a big secret, sort of cloak and dagger.

"This is where Leia is," Angelo said, staring at me for my reaction.

I looked around, but nothing in the alley gave me a clue as to what this was. It could have been the alley for any business. And then I realized it was not a private residence but a business. What kind of business? I wondered.

I cupped my nose and mouth with my hand as we waited. The Mexican driver had gone through the sole door. Soon the door opened and a man in a suit came out with his hand extended and a huge smile on his face. I noticed a shiny, gold tooth. When Angelo lifted his hand the man grabbed it with both of his and shook it enthusiastically.

"Hello, hello, my friend. It's nice to see you." Unlike Angelo, the man's Spanish accent was genuine. "Your father and I go back a long way."

He's a friend of Angelo's father. Then he's a gangster. What have I gotten into?

I cringed when the man's eyes roamed my body. I felt dirty, as if he were undressing me. I leaned against Angelo who wrapped an arm around me. I felt safe. The man shrugged and did an about-face, leading the way into the building. We followed, Louie before Angelo and me and Maxie behind us. Angelo kept his arm around me. The Mexican driver remained outside.

We walked through a hallway with doors on both sides, like in a hotel. It was dimly lit, but even in the low light I could see the smudges on the walls and the stains on the nappy, dark brown carpet. The air was stale. I stopped when I heard grunts and moans coming from behind one door but Angelo pulled me along. I stared at the door over my shoulder but kept walking.

We stopped at a door with the number "6" nailed to it. The man in the suit turned to Angelo. Angelo looked at me with his index finger in front of his lips. I nodded. Angelo flicked his head and the man opened the door. I gasped, but Angelo quickly covered my mouth with his hand.

The room was as dingy as the hallway. A lone, uncovered light bulb hung from the ceiling. There were no windows and the only furniture was a big bed and small table. Mrs. Walker was sitting on the floor in the corner with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them. She was rocking and staring into space. And she was naked.

Clothing lay on the floor and a naked man stood at the side of the bed. His hands held the raised hips of a naked girl. She was on her knees and resting on her forearms wearing only garter belt, black fishnet stockings, and high heels. The man was fucking her in the ass real hard. His unshaven face was red and covered in sweat, his damp black hair plastered to his forehead. Another man sat on the bed holding her head in his lap. And then he lifted her head and slammed it back down with his hard cock inside her mouth. I saw her face when he lifted her head. It was Leia.

I turned to Angelo. He watched with an indifferent expression. Maxie was busy keeping an eye on the hallway, but I saw the lust in Louie's face. I had seen it before -- at the frat house when I was the naked girl being abused.

The room was filled with sounds of sex. The sodomizing man's grunts, the moans of the man getting a blowjob, and Leia's gags. Her gagging was disturbing. I brought my hand to my own throat in empathy and swallowed hard. And then I thought back to the sounds I had heard in the hallway. Others were having sex in this building.

The man on the bed emitted an animalistic guttural noise and forced Leia's head down, smashing her face into his body. Her arms flayed and she weakly punched him. A disgusting sound came forth as if she were trying to clear her throat of phlegm. But the man ignored her. In fact, his fingers tightened in her hair as his head tilted back with closed eyes. I was sure Leia was going to suffocate, to die right before my eyes. Was I brought there to witness it? But just then the man's hands slid to his sides as he dropped to his back.

Leia jerked her head up, coughing and sputtering. Semen poured over her bottom lip and down her chin. Her mouth was wide open as she gasped for air. Sperm bubbled at her nostrils and burst. And then she fell forward, resting on her forearms with the top of her head sunk into the mattress, taking deep breaths.

The worn bedsprings squeaked as the standing man relentlessly fucked Leia's ass. And then she suddenly turned our way as if sensing our presence. I saw fear in her eyes and then confusion and then hope.

"Miss Flemming, help me!" she cried out, unintentionally spitting sperm. "Thank god you found me. Please help me. Help me!"

Her mother looked up. She struggled to comprehend what was happening, but her eyes went blank and her head dropped. Her rocking resumed.

"Please help me! For god's sake, don't just stand there! Help me."

The man sodomizing Leia leaned over her back and grabbed her hanging tits as he crushed their bodies together. She cried out in pain when he squeezed. The man grunted, holding still with his cock all the way inside her ass. His buttocks clenched and unclenched. I saw something new in Leia's eyes -- shame. Our eyes remained locked until the man stood up and staggered backwards. When his cock popped free from Leia's tight sphincter, she collapsed onto her belly, whimpering like a dog hit by a car and left on the side of the road.

The man glanced at us, shrugged, and walked over to Mrs. Walker. He snapped his fingers. She looked up with a vacant stare. Grabbing onto his leg, she slowly pulled her frail, old body to her knees. She held his cock between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand. It was dirty, covered with sperm and more. She placed her tongue at the base of his cock where his balls were attached. And then her tongue slid along the entire length. She licked it all over like a cat cleaning its paw. And then she tilted her head back and placed his testicles inside her mouth. I saw movement and knew her tongue was active, and she kept swallowing. When done, she leaned back and looked up at the man's face. He flicked his extended thumb towards the bed.