Can't Pick Your Family - Cover

Can't Pick Your Family

Copyright© 2011 by Argon

Chapter 15: Aftermath

Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 15: Aftermath - Joey Di Rosa is the grandnephew of a Cosa Nostra kingpin. Deirdre Darling is the daughter of a district attorney. Yet, they become soul mates and lovers until a violent crime tears them apart. Caution: the story gets ugly towards the middle, and as in real life, crime pays if done right.

Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Rape   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   School  

After five days the physicians decided to wake Deirdre from her coma. Maureen had recovered from her breakdown, and Deirdre's wounds were healed enough to allow her back into consciousness. The barbiturate drip was disconnected after morning rounds, and by early afternoon Deirdre showed signs of waking up. They had decided that Maureen should be alone with her when she woke up to reduce the emotional stress. Thus, when Deirdre opened her eyes Maureen was waiting outside her room watching.

She saw the doctors as they entered Deirdre's room, and they stayed for almost an hour. In spite of everything, Maureen smirked thinking that they probably would not have stayed for more than five minutes if Deirdre had been admitted on Maureen's own health plan. The hospital bill was being footed by the Di Rosa and it showed.

It would be other doctors, too. Dr. Cramer, for instance, was America's leading expert on genital reconstructive surgery. He had been flown in from Los Angeles where he made a living repairing hymens for good Catholic or Islamic girls, but also by performing vaginal lifts for those ladies who found that facial lifts were not enough to retain the attention of their younger lovers or husbands. On the other hand he was well known for offering his skills pro bono publico, for victims of sexual abuse or for girls from poor background who were suffering from congenital defects. He was making use of his paid time in Philadelphia to do just that and saving some of his patients the costly travel to the West Coast. That, of course, after spending seven hours to repair the damage Deirdre had sustained.

Dr. Westcott was from New York, called in to make sure that Deirdre suffered no disfigurement to her face, but he had relatively little to do, except for carefully closing a few small cuts. The third man inside was Dr. Elliot Bernstein. He was from Philadelphia and specialized on traumatized crime victims if he did not make big bucks by helping brain dead socialites cope with the heavy burden of their rich existences. Yes, Deirdre was getting whatever help money could buy.

After the doctors had left, the friendly young nurse who – as Maureen had learned – was the fiancé of Felix Di Rosa called her in. Bracing herself Maureen stepped through the door. They had removed the cooling mask from Deirdre's face. The deep bruising was already shifting towards a cafe au lait coloring, and the swelling of her lips had receded.

"Mom?"

Deirdre sounded hoarse.

"Deirdre, my baby!" Maureen bent down to kiss Deirdre's forehead. "You're awake again."

Deirdre looked down at herself and at the lines going into her arms, and she shrugged.

"How do you feel?" Maureen asked in a whisper.

"All things considered, not too bad. I'll make a full recovery they say."

Deirdre shrugged and winced immediately. Just then, the pretty face of Gabriella Feliciangeli showed over Maureen's shoulder again.

"Hello, I'm Nurse Gabriella. Do you remember me?" Deirdre nodded. "Let me check a few things."

Gabriella proceeded to take Deirdre's temperature, her pulse, and other parameters. Then she produced a comb and braided Deirdre's hair into a short queue. With Maureen's help, they took off the hospital gown and put a regular pajama on Deirdre, one of her own. Seeing her discolored breasts and the huge bruise on Deirdre's abdomen Maureen started to cry. She could see nothing below the navel because Deirdre's genitals were covered with an elastic gauze pant from which a catheter led down into a collection bag.

Gabriella left them, and Maureen fed Deirdre another ice cube from a plastic container. It seemed to help.

"How ... How did they find me?" Deirdre asked.

"Joey's family did. They were able to establish contact with the Montalbans, and Joey ransomed you."

"The Montalbans?"

"The men who abducted you."

A sobbing breath escaped from Deirdre's mouth. "Were they caught?"

"Not yet, Deirdre, but it's only a matter of time."

Deirdre was silent for a minute or two.

"Joey. Can you tell him thank you from me?"

"Tell him yourself, baby. He'll be your next visitor."

"Nooo! I don't want him to see me like this."

"He already saw you, Deirdre, when they brought you in. He spent hours here while you were unconscious. That young man has a heart of gold."

Suddenly, another horrible picture entered Deirdre's mind. "Karen! Where is Karen? I saw her in the recliner, and there was blood all over her."

Maureen's face told her everything before she even answered. "She's been hurt badly, Deirdre, and she may not survive. Her skull was fractured and they can't pick up much on her EEG."

"Oh Mom, what will you do?"

"I have you, Deirdre. You need me, and frankly, I need it that you need me."

"Why? Why did those men hate us so much?"

"I indicted them for conspiracy to distribute illegal drugs. They wanted a plea bargain, but we have enough evidence and my boss said, no bargain. They wanted to blackmail me into giving them a deal. Of course, when Karen was found, the police became involved and I was suspended from all my cases. We hoped that would keep them from ... Keep them from hurting you." Maureen's voice broke. "I'm so sorry, baby; you got caught up in this, and we couldn't do anything, couldn't offer them anything. I couldn't protect you as I should."

Deirdre shook her head. "Mom, they started right away. They started to hurt me and all the other stuff. Nothing mattered. They were crazy, completely crazy."

"They must have overdosed on those steroids for years, Deirdre. There are side effects of that, such as extreme aggression. It's called 'roid rage in those circles. Joey's cousin found out a few things about them. They have priors for aggravated assault. They had to flee, of course, and they have the FBI and the police on their trail. There is a huge reward for their capture, a half million dollars, from Joey's great-uncle. They will be caught, and my boss will go for the death penalty. They found enough evidence on you and at the place where you were held to make it stick. They will pay for what they did!"

Deirdre stared ahead. "What if they're not found? They could be anywhere, right?"

"There is a chance that they skipped the country, yes."

"What if they come back one day? How can I live like that?"

"I don't know, baby, we have to wait for results. You can't leave the hospital for another week anyway."

"And after that?"

"I can take a leave. We could go someplace for a week or two, away from here. How about you and Joey go somewhere?"

Deirdre turned her head away. "Why would he go anywhere with me? Look at me!"

"I think Joey is a bit more mature than you give him credit for," Maureen returned. "He was with me all the time while they were looking for you; he even pledged himself to his great-uncle to get the support of the family, and the ransom came out of his trust fund."

"I know that Joey is a fine guy, Mom. He will always do what he thinks is the right thing, even pretend that everything is still the same with us. I just can't buy it. I know things are not the same anymore. I was a fuck toy for ... How many days?"

"Two," Maureen said miserably.

"It felt longer. Anyway, I'm not the girl I was."

Maureen shook her head. "I was there when Joey got the call from his cousin who told him that you had been abused. Apparently, his cousin asked whether Joey was still willing to ransom you. All he said was, 'I just want her back!'. Does that sound like a guy who has second thoughts?"

"It sounds like a good guy, Mom. I love him. That's why I have to let go."

"That doesn't make sense, Deirdre. Why are you punishing yourself over something you had no control over?"

"Just let it go, Mom, please!"

"Will you at least talk to Joey?"

"Yes, sure, I mean, he deserves it. Maybe, it's better if he sees me looking like shit, like right now."


Joey already knew that Deirdre was awake and that her healing was going according to plan. Gabriella had called him as soon as she had left Deirdre's room. She had also told him what to expect from the physical side.

Joey had spent three days searching the internet for information on how to best approach a sex crime victim. He had also spent an hour with a colleague of Dr. Bernstein to get more pointers. Self esteem or the loss thereof was the key problem for the victims. They needed to feel loved and accepted even though they would reject love at first. There was the tendency to withdraw into a protective cocoon, mentally or physically, and this had to be countered early on. Disfigurement was a serious impediment for recovery, and even the transient bruising would make it impossible to bring Deirdre among people at first.

All this was compounded by the mental turmoil Joey himself was in over the killing of the Montalban brothers. The initial sense of achievement, the sating of his thirst for revenge, had both abated and now he loathed himself. He was everything that his parents had not wanted him to become. Tess had guessed what had happened and she was there for him, stroking his ego and trying to keep his spirits up. Her most persuasive point was that he could not succumb to his self-loathing or he would be unable to help Deirdre.

She did not leave him alone, either. Claiming to be frightened, she had spent the last nights in Joey's room, but it had been his head that had rested against her and her hands that had stroked his hair to soothe him into sleep. The roles were reversed for the time being, with Tess serving as surrogate mother.

What further aggravated the situation was the media interest in Deirdre. The reporting of her kidnapping had been the start, but then it leaked out that she had been raped. With so many people involved in her rescue it was impossible to pinpoint the source. One photograph of Deirdre, taken at the Prom, was plastered all over a tabloid front page together with the headline: 'The Monster Brothers' Beautiful Victim'. When the first photogs began to loiter around the emergency ward, Di Rosa Security posted guards at the door to Deirdre's room and only pre-approved personnel was allowed entry.

Another stone in Joey's shoe was the graduation ceremony. Deirdre was Valedictorian, and rather than letting the runner-ups fill in the class had unanimously voted for Joey to speak in Deirdre's stead. He had tried to beg out, but in the end Mr. Joyner and Deborah had talked him into accepting. He had no clue what to say.

This was the situation when Joey received Maureen's call briefing him on Deirdre's status. They decided to let Deirdre sleep one night before Joey would make his visit and he appeared at the emergency ward a little after eight o'clock. He knew all the nurses there from his own stay, and they sympathized with him and wished him the best. In the end he braced himself and knocked at the door to Deirdre's room.

Entering he held his breath, and once again her bruised face brought tears to his eyes. All the prepared opening words went out of the window as he ran over to sit at her side. He grabbed her right hand pressing it fiercely.

"Deirdre, I'm so terribly sorry," he managed to say.

"Me too, Joey. We had so much and now it's all over."

Taking a deep breath, Joey held her hand and stared into her eyes. He focused on the blue irises, trying valiantly to ignore the discolored skin around her eyes.

"Deirdre, Maureen told me that you cannot believe me right now, but I'll say it anyway. The thought of losing you almost killed me. I need you and I love you. Please, don't make any decisions until you had some time to recover. Don't write me off. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me."

"Joey, you're a sweet, sweet guy. You mean well, and I guess you believe in what you say. The problem is that I'm not the girl anymore that you knew. I spent three days in hell. I'm not sure that I'm grateful that I survived, right now. Everything hurts and everything that made my life beautiful is soiled now. I loved to kiss you, Joey, but now, all I see is my blood and shit on the dicks they forced me to lick clean. Can you cope with that image?"

Before Deirdre even knew, Joey had his lips on her mouth, gently touching and licking her lips.

"Deirdre, I love you. The only thing that matters is that you are alive. I'll give you real kisses when it won't hurt you anymore, and I'll kiss your boobies, and your belly button, and yes, I'll kiss your pussy. I'll kiss it with extra love because I know how much it was hurt. And one day, when you'll be ready for me, I'll make love to you again. You are my Deirdre, and no brutal, dirty, psychopath can change my love for you. If you decide that I don't deserve your love anymore, because I ... Because I wasn't there for you, I'll accept that, but I still won't stop loving you. I will still hope that you will forgive me."

"I want to believe you, Joey, but..."

"Ssh! Take your time. Give me a chance to prove it."

"I will still have to go to Eureka, for college."

"Then go. If we can get over the last week, what's three thousand miles?"

Little by little, he could see that her defensive posture was melting.

"What about the temptations, the worries, the complications?"

"Minor worries, Deirdre. Losing you is what I'm really afraid of, and I'd rather take the chance of you moving to California than losing you outright. I'll be pestering you with phone calls, though."

That, finally, brought a smile-like grimace to her lips.

"What about sex then? 'It's a part of what we are for each other, ' right? It'll take me a while healing — down there – and then some more time healing up here," she said, tipping her temple.

Joey looked into her eyes again. "Deirdre, I'm not stupid. I read up on the internet. No way you'll be comfortable with sex for months, perhaps even longer. I know that, I accept it, and I won't pressure you."

"So you read up, huh? Is that why you say all the right things?"

"I can't afford to screw up, Deirdre."

"So, what does the internet say, how do I look like?"

He saw the challenge. It would be so easy to butter her up. 'You're still my beautiful girl.' or some other crock.

"You look like shit, Deirdre, and you know that. I look at you, and I can feel your pain. But I know that these are just bruises, hematomas. Bleeding into the tissue due to blunt trauma. The erythrocytes with decay, and the hemoglobin will be resorbed and degraded. The swelling will recede, the color will fade, and two weeks from now, all that'll remain will be that scared look in your eyes. I can't do a thing about those bruises, so I'll focus on getting the fear out of your eyes."

The smile reached her eyes now. "Wow, and you can find lines like that on the internet?"

"With the right search words..."

"I didn't even know you could spell big words like 'hematoma'."

As long as he focused on her eyes, this was the Deirdre he knew and loved. He bent over her and kissed her again. This time her lips welcomed him.

"See, it's still there. As long as we believe in each other, we have a future."

Deirdre sighed. "It's so tempting to believe you, you know, but I'm afraid. Afraid you'll have a change of heart, but also of other — things."

No bullshit, Joey admonished himself.

"Okay, that makes two of us being afraid. I'm afraid, too, that you may have a change of heart, that you may meet another man or decide you can't ever let a man near you again. I have other fears, like when I drive out of a parking lot, that somebody may block my way and let loose a slew of bullets. Deirdre, in a way, I can probably relate to your fears better than any other person."

She gave him a hard and accusing look. "It's not the same getting shot or getting raped. The shooting took seconds, but they fucked and beat me for days."

"It's almost the same. Both make you afraid of a repeat. Both violate your body. And Deirdre, Karen is a friend, but she's hardly a parent for you. I woke up from being shot up and I had no parents anymore, only a badly hurt sister. So stop giving me that crap."

His tone was gentle, and that was why he got through to Deirdre. Her eyes teared up immediately, and she reached for his hand.

"Sorry, Joey, that was stupid. I'm messed up or I would not ... belittle what you had to go through."

Joey pressed her hand in return. "You are forgiven if you let me visit you tomorrow."

Exhaling, Deirdre nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

"I can only come in the afternoon. Graduation is tomorrow."

Deirdre remembered and groaned, but then, a weak smile showed. "You know, at least I don't have to deliver a speech."

Now it was Joey's turn to grump. "Yeah, but guess what: I have to give it in your stead. So, any thoughts you wanted to share with our class?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Don't tell me you haven't prepared something weeks ahead," Joey insisted.

Deirdre looked down at her hands. "I did. It's on my laptop. I wrote it on the Sunday after Prom Night, when you were at your uncle's. I guess, it reflects the outlook I had then. Bright future and all that stuff."

"May I use it? I'd rather be your mouth piece than make up any stuff of my own."

Deirdre's blush could be seen even under the bruising. "No, it's too ... Joey, there is stuff in it about you and how you helped me become a real person."

"I would certainly skip that. You didn't just ramble about me, did you?"

"No. I tried to make a few other points, too. But it's raw. I never finished it."

"May I look at it, Deirdre? At the very least, it will tell me how you felt that Sunday before things got fucked up."

"Alright, okay, look it up. You know my account password, right?"

"Deirdre, I wish you could be there with me, and so will a lot of people. Is there anybody you would like to see? Deborah? Any of the teachers?"

"No, not now, not the way I look. Umh, Joey, could you perhaps bring me my laptop? They'll transfer me to a regular room this afternoon, and I need something to pass the time."

"Sure thing. You're gonna need something newer for college, won't you?"

Deirdre's venerable G3 Powerbook was almost five years old. She had bought it for small money the year before, and it was getting long in the tooth.

"It works fine," she maintained.

She was attached to the machine. She had purchased it with self earned money. It might be chunky compared with the sleek aluminum cases sported by the current models, but to Deirdre it was her robust workhorse.

"Okay, I'll get it for you. Anything else? You're still on liquid food, right?"

She nodded, looking uncomfortable. Then, apparently, she thought about something else because she reached out and touched Joey's arm.

"You know what I'm really, really grateful for?"

"Tell me."

"That I found you. That you were my first. That you are a good lover. With these ... men ... as my only reference..."

She didn't finish, didn't have to. Joey held her hand tight.

"That wasn't just me, Deirdre, that was us. You know, I was with Christie before you. Compared with what we have, the memory of the sex with Christie makes me feel bad."

Joey had placed emphasis on the 'have', present tense, and it was not lost on Deirdre.

"I get what you mean, Joey. So, what will happen after graduation? You'll be working five days, eight hours each at that company?"

"I cancelled. I ... There are more important things for me to do."

"Looking at my shiners?"

"Being with you, talking to you, making sure you feel loved."

Deirdre rolled her eyes. "You're full of crap, but it sounds good. Listen, can I talk you into one more kiss? I need you to leave now. My cold pack needs changing."

With a smile, Joey bent forward. Deirdre tried to lift her body, but with a grimace of pain, she fell back.

"Damn!" she groaned. "That bruise on my tummy is a bitch. If those assholes ever get caught, let's pay someone to kill them. Your uncle must know the right people."

Her words washed like ice water over Joey. In a second, his smile froze and he deflated. Deirdre noticed.

"Hey, you don't have to kiss me," she said hesitantly.

Shaking himself briefly, Joey concentrated on the present, feeling ashamed.

"Umh, sorry, sure I want to kiss you."

Nevertheless, he could not feel the love he wanted to convey, and from Deirdre's expression, he knew that she noticed. His kiss was lackluster, even in his own perception.


"Class of 2005, dear parents and teachers, dear guests,

"this is a very tough moment for me. I am filling in for the true Valedictorian, Deirdre Darling. Deirdre cannot join us today on this day of celebration. A little over a week ago, her life as she knew it was torn apart by a violent and senseless crime. To those of us who know her for the rather shy and gentle girl she is, it is unbelievable that anybody might even think of harming her, but yet it happened, and now she is in the hospital, waiting for her injuries to heal, waiting for the criminals to be apprehended, so that she may rebuild her life. Two weeks ago, when she was a happy teenager, she wrote a draft of what she planned to tell you today. It was still on her computer, it may be a bit rough around the edges, being a draft, but it expresses what this ceremony is about.

"I am now reading Deirdre's words. Not all of them, 'cause she sort of mentioned me a few times, and I'm not comfortable reading that.

"Dear fellow students of Benjamin Franklin Preparatory School,

"today is a date that we will always remember as the official end of our youth. Most of us will have one last summer of freedom before we will go to college or into other education programs in the fall.

"What this means is that our time together is at an end. We may see each other at some future reunion, we may run into each other while back here in Philadelphia, but for all practical matters we now have to find new friends in the places where we will soon work and study. Some of you, as I know, have been together since grade school, and for those the change will come the hardest. For others, like me or my friend Joey – that's me – who joined this class only recently the change will be less dramatic. Yet, in spite of the short time spent with all of you, I want to thank you for the way you accepted me in your midst. For a girl who was used to being a misfit, the time here was an eye opener. I learned a lot, not only the study subjects, but also how to relate to other young people, how to be a part of something bigger.

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