Not Sweet Suite
Moving down the stairs to the basement, Zorah knew the prettiness of upstairs was not going to be matched. Upstairs the main bedroom, a decorated nursery and an office which could double as a third bedroom, all done in a design Zorah would have approved of if she’d hired someone to do the rooms, told her Ippocrate Giannone paid far more attention to her than she’d ever realized. It also screamed at everyone who saw the place, he fantasized about a life with Zorah to a degree which was obsessive.
She felt Chester immediately on her heels as she followed the man who’d given her the knife earlier.
“Zorah, I’ve seen photos. This is going to be a lot.”
“I can do this.” She’d already smashed a crib and destroyed a queen-sized bed upstairs when one of the other soldiers brought in a sledgehammer and crowbar from one of the SUVs for her.
“You can but you don’t have to.”
“Dad. I know you’re worried about me, but this has to happen. I want him to see I’ve destroyed all of his hopes and dreams the way he intended to destroy mine.” She drew to a halt as she found herself staring at a room with a door at the far side of it. She already knew beyond the door was what the men dubbed a birthing suite. Zorah was dreading entering it, but her eyes were tracked to the room with the single bed, a wall of photos, a television mounted on the wall and another reclining chair.
Her eyes flicked to the wastepaper basket near the chair, and she recalled the comment about Ippocrate masturbated to images of her. She looked at the television and then at Chester. “What does he watch on this? He doesn’t have a television in his apartment.”
“We didn’t find anything other than an app which links to his phone.”
“Which makes me wonder if he has videos on his phone of me which he watches here.” She weighed the crowbar in her hand and walked closer to the wall of photographs. She knew her father was now texting Icaro to get his hands on Ippocrate’s cell phone. “How long until they are here?”
“Fifteen minutes, tops. They darted him the way we did you. Orlando compared it to knocking out a rhino. They got him through a window right in the neck.”
She snickered, surprised by how vindictive and villainous she was feeling. “They should have given the jerk a catheter.”
Chester snickered, “we could just cut his dick off entirely.”
She spun to him wide-eyed, “can we? Oh, my goodness! Is it something which can be done? He can have his penis removed as a sacrifice to God for thinking impure thoughts while he was preaching to the congregation about them all going to hell for being sinners.”
“You’re kind of scaring me,” he backed up from her, but the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
Zorah looked at the photos on the wall and tried with great effort to keep the bile from rising up. “How did he get these?” there were photos of her in various states of undress, several of her sleeping, others of her sleeping with her blanket pulled down to her feet and multiple photos of her singing in the choir. She lifted one of the choir photos from a solo she’d sung during an Easter service. He’d sat bored at the altar while she sang. How he managed to take a photo of her was confusing.
“The church is full of video surveillance equipment. He could easily take a still from any video, which clearly, he did.”
She took the crowbar and swung it wildly, the photos on the wall, shelves and television stand shattering, the splintering sound of glass being struck by the metal music to her ears. She then smashed the television to bits.
“Zorah! You’re going to get cut with all this glass.”
“I’m not stopping.”
“I don’t want you to, but could you maybe use these?” Chester hung a pair of safety goggles over her shoulder. The guard held out some gloves and Chester took her hands and put them on her. “Can you please not be injured when we bring that fat asshole in here? I don’t want you bleeding in front of him.”
“Fine.” She donned the protective equipment and then began swinging again before asking for the knife and she began shredding the bed with gusto. “Creepy bastard!”
Finally, she moved to the closed door and took a deep breath. What kind of horrors was she expecting on the other side of this door? She pulled the door open and stepped into the room and felt her heart sink to her feet.
“No.” The bile which she’d struggled to hold down earlier, rose and as she heaved at the sight, she knew the guard with them deserved a commendation for how quickly he got a wastebin under her face. Chester tried to pull her backwards out of the room, but she shook him off.
A medical bed with stirrups like one would expect in a gynaecological office took center stage. The entire room was clinical, sterile and was outfitted with a medical basinet and an entire wall of medical equipment. Yet for all of the things in the room, it was the bed with the stirrups her eyes were drawn to.
He really did intend to get her pregnant. Despite the nursery upstairs, it was this cold, clinical room which punctuated his plans for her. There was a premeditated calculation of his intentions to force her into his bed, impregnate her and either raise a son or give away a daughter. The fact he would have been forced to carry this huge, heavy piece of medical equipment into this room and the amount of money it would have cost to kit out this room resonated in her chest.
“He was really going to go through with this. He was going to rape me and force me to have his children.”
“Zorah,” her father pulled her from the room. “They are almost here. Why don’t we let the demolition crew take care of this room? The house is going to explode. We’ll make sure a good chunk of the explosives is set here. Let’s get you out of here and in place to confront him upstairs.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” She was still eyeballing the bed with the stirrups. “I want him there. Can you get him tied up there? When he wakes up, I want his feet bound in those things.”
The guard with them coughed at her question as Chester’s eyes bulged.
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