You are Served

Now that story was amazing enough but what happened about a year later makes it pale in comparison.

I had to serve papers on a Delbert Davis. My boss said that he might be hard to serve but our company guaranteed that we would try up to seven times before we returned the paperwork to the courts. If this meant staking him out at his home or work then that's what I had to do. He proved to be a very slippery character.

When I went to his apartment I found it empty and the person in the rental office said Mr. Davis had moved out the week before. He left no forwarding address of course. I went to his work and they said he no longer worked there. Using the resources of our office I was able to get his cell phone number and used the same triangulation equipment that the police use to figure out its location. I had an address in a rural area outside of town. After a little more work I found out that the address was one of Mr. Davis' friends. Finding the phone didn't mean I found him but at least now I had a starting point.

I wasn't sure that the direct approach would work so I got authorization to do a stakeout. That evening I found myself parked down the street from an old farmhouse. One of the pieces of equipment we use from time to time is an emergency beeper. Should I ever get into a situation where I need to call the police and there isn't a way to do it, all I have to do is press a button and the police will be at that location within minutes. I had it in my pocket because I had a bad feeling going in. I sat and watched the farmhouse through binoculars. I didn't see anyone around; all was quiet, not even a dog or a chicken. There was a large Quonset hut in the back of the house but I couldn't see the door from where I sat. I sat there until after dark and saw that there were no lights on in the house. I was pretty sure that there was nobody around so I walked down the street to get a better look, keeping under the cover of the bushes and trees along the road. There was still nothing. I was almost at the front of the house, still hiding in the shadows, when I saw the door of the Quonset hut open. The roar of a motorcycle starting up filled the night air as I dashed behind a tree. A few seconds later a large custom Harley crept up the gravel drive and onto the street. It roared away from me in the opposite direction and into the night, the rumble trailing off as the distance between us got greater and greater. I couldn't tell if that was the elusive Mr. Davis or not and my better judgment said to retreat and regroup for the night. So I did just that and drove home.

In the morning I drove back to the farmhouse and saw a motorcycle parked in the driveway. I stopped my car near the house and went out and opened the hood, hoping that anyone that saw me would think I was broken down. As I pretended to tinker under the hood I watched the house. A few minutes later a man came out the front door and lit a cigarette. He seemed to be watching me as he leaned against one of the posts and puffed. After a minute he flicked his cigarette away and started walking toward me. I pretended to not see him as he approached.

"Got a problem fella?" the man asked.

I turned to look at him and recognized him as Mr. Davis. I saw his picture in his file at work the day before.

"Yeah, actually I do. My car just died and now I can't get it started. I just put a new battery in it a while ago and think one of the cables must have worked loose. Let's see what happens now." I got in the car and started it up. "There, that's got it." I closed the hood and turned to the man. "Hey, I recognize you from somewhere. Aren't you Delbert Davis?"

"Yeah, do I know you?"

"No, you don't. But your wife does. You are served." I tossed the manila envelope over to him and backed toward my car. I had just got to the door and reached in and got the tire iron off the seat when he smiled.

"So, Betty sent you to serve papers on me? What are you one of her pussy-hound boyfriends? Well here's what you can do with your papers."

That's when he reached behind his back and pulled out a handgun, the sun glinted off the chrome as he walked toward me sneering. For the first time in my life I was convinced that I was going to die. I dropped the tire iron and put my hands up beside my head.

"Okay dick-weed; walk over to the house, and don't make any quick moves. You don't want to end up a red stain on our nice front lawn. Now walk."

I followed his orders and walked up the driveway and toward the front door.

"Inside," was all he grumbled.

I was so scared that I was shaking. I wasn't able to reach the emergency beeper and get help so I had to stall until I could. I never got the chance because as I entered the door I heard a thud behind me a crash at my feet. I gingerly looked around and saw Mr. Davis laying in a heap on the floor the back of his head turning crimson red.

"Serves you right motherfucker!" Growled a voice from the other side of the doorway.

Standing just outside the door was a half naked young girl; she appeared to be no more than 14 or 15 years old, but something told me that she was probably older. She was holding what looked like a bed post in one hand. The snarl on her face would have scared me half to death if I wasn't already scared half to death.

"Come on, let's get out of here before his friends return," she said to me beckoning me to follow. I gently stepped over the unconscious man and saw that she was running toward my car. "Come on, hurry," she yelled back. So, without thinking about what I was doing, or should have done, I ran after her. When I got to the car I noticed the manila envelope still on the ground where it fell. I picked it up and ran back to the house and threw it in the door.

"You are still served motherfucker." Then I turned and ran out the yard and drove away as fast at my poor little car could go.

When we were maybe five miles from the farmhouse I stopped at a small convenience store so we could catch our breath. That's when I noticed the bracelet on her left arm, but it wasn't a bracelet, it was one part of a set of handcuffs, part of the little chain still dangling from the side.

"Thanks," she said trying to cover up her chest with the torn dress top. "Don't worry about Del. I didn't hit him hard enough to kill him. I wanted to but just couldn't do it even after all he'd done to me. Uh, do you have something I can use to cover up a bit?"

"Oh, sure." I reached into the back and got an old denim jacket I kept in the car for emergencies and gave it to her.

As she put it on I noticed one breast sticking through the torn fabric. It has a bunch of red marks around the nipple and there was a large bruise at the bottom.

"My name's Tracy, Tracy Winters and thanks for rescuing me by the way."

"What's that all about," I asked pointing to the handcuff on her wrist.

"Those assholes had me handcuffed to the bed. I found a pair of pliers under the mattress and it took me all night to get one of the links open. I was just about to bash Del in the head when you showed up."

"Why were you cuffed to the bed?" I asked even thought I was sure I knew what her answer would be.

"They were taking turns raping me and didn't want to have to go chasing me down when they fell asleep. I don't know how long I've been there, maybe four or five days now."

"Damn. I'll drive you to the police and..."

"No! Absolutely not! I can't take a chance that they'll find me and do something worse, like cut my throat or something. I just want to find someplace to hide for a while. Later I can make arrangements to get out of town. Can you help me?"

"I really think I should take you to the police and maybe to a hospital and..."

Before I could finish my sentence the roar of motorcycles filled the air. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw three of them passing behind me. Tracy had hunkered down in the seat so no one could see her.

"Get out of here. That's the other guys at the house, Del's friends. Just drive away."

As calmly as I could I backed up and pulled out into traffic. When we were a distance away Tracy looked out the back window and visibly relaxed.

"Can you take me somewhere where I can hide for a few days?" she pleaded.

"I don't know, I really think you should go to the authorities. But maybe I can put you up at my place for a while."

"Anywhere safe," she whimpered. "Thanks, I owe you one."

When I got back to my place she was sound asleep. As I touched her arm to wake her up she jumped up and almost hit the ceiling.

"We're here," I said pointing to my front door. I live in an old semi-detached brick home that my uncle left me when he died. It's not fancy and it isn't modern but it's comfortable and it's in a quiet neighborhood. And it's all mine. I showed Tracy in and told her where she could clean up then went to find something for her to wear. An hour later she came back with wet hair wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt I set out for her. I had set out sandwiches and sodas and she dove into them without even a hello.

After devouring both of our sandwiches, the bag of chips, and both sodas she sat back and rubbed her belly.

"Thanks, I haven't had anything to eat since sometime yesterday. I was hungry."

We left everything on the table and went out on the back patio to watch the sun set.

"I've made up the spare room with clean sheets and towels and you can stay there until you find someplace else to go."

"You won't tell anyone that I'm here, will you?"

"No, I won't. I promise. Now tell me why you were in need of being rescued."

She smiled for the first time and it was a beautiful smile. "I was an idiot like I've been all my life. I had just graduated high school, in Kansas of all places, and wanted to go to Hollywood and become an actress. I actually went in the wrong direction and that's how I ended up here. Anyway, my parents are very strict and controlling and said I could get a job at the local grocery chain while I went to community college. I'd had it with school so a week after I turned 18 I just packed a bag and disappeared into the night. I hitched a ride with this trucker who said he was going to Los Angeles but had to make a stop in Atlanta first. When we stopped for the night he said I could sleep in his sleeper cab and he'd sleep on the driver's seat. An hour later he was in bed on top of me kissing me and pawing under my clothes. He made me do things with his scrawny little dick that were disgusting. Eventually I closed my eyes and let him do what he wanted because there was no way I could stop him. When he'd had his fun and was asleep I gathered my stuff and snuck out.

I met a guy in the snack bar and he offered me a ride on his bike. His name was Nate. He was one of the guys on the motorcycle back there at the little store. He drove me away from the truck stop and about ten hours later stopped at the farm house where you found me. There were three other men there, one of them was Del, but I can't remember the names of the other two. I stayed with Nate for a few days and we had a pretty good time. He took me places on the back of his bike during the day while he was making some kind of deliveries and at night we partied big time. One night a few days later, one of the other men got in bed with me and started slobbering all over me ant trying to pull my clothes off. Nate wasn't there so I screamed and kicked until he showed up at the door. He said he was sharing me with his friends and it was okay to do anything they wanted. I said no and started to get up and leave. That's when they grabbed me and handcuffed me to the bed. And that's when they all started taking turns with me in bed. Everybody did what the wanted and then left, even Del. But Del was pretty okay to me. He still took his turn in bed but at least he brought me food and let me pee when I had to. He also put some ointment on my arm when it started bleeding around the handcuffs. Oh, that reminds me, do you have any way to get this thing off?"

After working with a pair of bolt cutters and a hacksaw I was able to cut the manacle in half and pry it off. I got some antibiotic ointment and spread it around her cuts and gave the tube to her to use on the ones I couldn't see. We talked a lot more. By the time the sun went down she was more relaxed since I first saw her with a bedpost in her hand. And she was also completely exhausted.

That night she slept in her room and I slept in mine.

The next day I went to work and reported that I had served Delbert Davis but didn't say anything about the confrontation or Tracy. I could get into a lot of trouble for just taking her to my place and not calling the police but I felt she needed help and I wanted to be her hero.

In the afternoon I stopped at home and convinced Tracy to come with me to a clinic so she could be tested for STDs. There's no telling what those guys had percolating between their legs. The doctor gave her some antibiotics and said to call back in a couple days for the test results. I took her home and went to serve a man at his work.

Tracy stayed holed up in my house for a week before she allowed me to take her out and get some clothes of her own. We also ate something other than the pizzas I got on the way home from work. She was a lot more personable and talkative now that her war wounds had time to heal and she had time to rest.

She gave me good news as we ate. "I called the clinic yesterday and they said all the tests were negative, including the HIV test. But they did say that I needed to be tested again in three months because the HIV incubation period may be as long as a year. But for now it looks like I'm okay. Thank you for rescuing me."

"My pleasure and thank you for cleaning up the house. I'm pretty much a slob and the place has never looked so good. You did a fine job."

I never told anyone about Tracy and she was content to sit at home watching television and playing games on the computer. At that point she'd been with me for five weeks. One day, after a long day at work I came home to the aroma of a home cooked meal of some sort of meat and potatoes dish. It was good even if I didn't exactly know what it was. Since Tracy made it, it was very good.

"Bob, I've got some good news; at least I hope you'll think its good news. I called my parents today and told them where I was. I told my father what happened and that you rescued me and that I've been living in your spare room for the last few weeks. He sounded hurt hearing about everything but relieved that I was alive. He said he'd send me some money so I could come home. I want to thank you before I go and dinner is just the beginning. Afterwards I want to take you out for an ice cream cone and then a walk around the neighborhood. After that, who knows?"

Dinner was starting to taste better and better. Afterward I drove to a little hole in the wall ice cream parlor not too far away and bought both of us cones. She didn't have any money but promised to pay me back some day. I didn't care about the money. We walked around the neighborhood and even sat and talked in a little kiddy park down the street. She was sweet and even held my hand on the way back home. As we walked upstairs I had a funny feeling that the evening wasn't over yet. But when she said goodnight and closed her bedroom door, I retreated to my bed and thought about Aletheia.

Something woke me from a sound sleep. It was the heat of a body next to me under the covers. It was Tracy and she was snuggled up against me with one arm over my chest. I could feel her breath on my neck and I could smell the shampoo in her hair. But most of all I could feel her naked body against mine. Her fingers gently stroked the skin around my nipple. When she moved slightly to kiss my shoulder I turned my head and looked down at her. I could just see the outline of her head and the glistening of her earring in the dim light coming through the blinds. She lifted her head to look at me and I turned more so our mouths could meet in the middle in a long deep kiss. We kissed like we'd known each other for a lifetime. I turned to embrace her and she threw the covers off exposing her sylph-like body. All I saw were outlines of her body next to mine but I could feel the heat of her skin as I explored every inch with my fingers. When she climbed up on top of me and guided my now hard cock inside her I pulled her tighter against my body and kissed her deeply. We made love gently and yet passionately for what seemed like forever. The room was hot with our radiating warmth and smelled of sex. I kissed her face all over and she licked my neck. I lifted my hips up to get deeper inside her and she pushed down to allow me. We moved back and forth, up and down until I could feel her tense with an exquisite orgasm.

As she came down from heaven I realized that we were making love with out any protection. I reached into my nightstand and got a condom and lifted her body off of mine before putting it on. Then I turned her onto her back and crawled on top and entered her red hot pussy again. She clung to me with arms and legs like an octopus on its prey. I stroked and pounded until I was ready to burst. When I did finally explode she squeezed her legs together along with her pussy muscles into a vice-like grip that I was sure I was never going to get out of. But I didn't care; I just stayed on top of her and let my cock slowly deflate inside.

Before the night was over we made love two more times and again at dawn, each more glorious than the previous. She even showed me tricks that I didn't know an 18 year old would know.

Tracy stayed three more days before a money order arrived from her father for plane fare back home. We made love every day, actually many times a day. The last morning she said that she would never forget what I did for her and promised to email me or come back and see me if she could. I was starting to fall for this girl but knew that she had a lot of growing up to do. Maybe I did too.

I took her to the airport and kissed her goodbye. I never saw her again.

I went back to work delivering bad news to people. It's been three years since the episode with Tracy and Del and life for me has been both good and not so good. But I can't complain. I'm still serving divorce papers and still have a love-hate relationship with my job. And I still fantasize about Aletheia.

The phone on my desk rang.

"Mr. Adams this is Hal at the front desk. There's a Tracy Winters here to see you. She says she owes you some money. Shall I bring her back?"

"ABSOLUTELY!"