Cheap Thrills

"I hope you go to jail, you whore," Julie spat. "You killed him." The guard, the police officer and my mother pulled Julie out of the room.

"Dad, I saw Greg. He came for me. He fought for me. Brett...ran away. I don't understand. Greg isn't tough. Brett is a professional fighter...why?" I asked.

"Penny, Greg isn't dead, Honey, but it's not good. He had a collapsed lung and one of his broken ribs was squeezing blood out of his heart. From all of the kicking they did on him, he has a broken leg. One of his arms is fractured along with the wrist on the other side. The orbit of his left eye is fractured. His other eye has a detached retina. His nose is severely broken, his jaw is bruised and he has a serious concussion. They haven't ruled out brain damage either. He died three times, once in the ambulance and twice on the operating table. It really doesn't look good."

I started crying then. "Why Penny?" he asked. "I just don't understand why you did this."

He looked at me as if he expected me to say something that would make this fucked up situation make sense. It was surreal. We grow up looking to our parents for guidance, wisdom and the answers to the questions that really trouble us. This time it was my dad looking to me for answers.

"Did Greg do something to you, baby?" he asked. "Because if I live to be two hundred years old, I don't think I could have found a nicer boy for you to marry. I mean you've always been my little princess. That's why I was harder on Julie than we ever were on you. When you dropped out of college last year, it didn't bother us. Hell, we breathed a sigh of relief, because it meant we could save money. Besides, everyone who had ever seen the two of you together knew that you and Greg would be getting married." I nodded.

"I have to tell you, your mom was a little bit jealous of you. She stopped by the jewelry store and had Julie show her your ring. Then she started bugging me about how a college kid can save up enough money for a two carat ring when all she got was a one carat diamond. I had to remind her that we both had expenses and we had the mortgage and we were trying to save money back then. It was especially bad when we didn't have great jobs and we made YOU, kind of before we actually got married." He smiled at me when he said that and he reached over and brushed my hair out of my eyes.

"I told her that in your case, you are Greg's total focus, so he can afford to spend all of his money on you. Plus, there's the fact that Greg has a great summer job and is on a great career track. That's something that your mom and I couldn't say. So tell me baby, what did he do? Did he cheat on you and you were just doing this to get revenge on him?" I shook my head.

"Is he one of those guys who treats you really nice in front of people and then when you're alone he's abusive? Because I'll kick his ass into next week if he ever laid a hand on you..."

"No Daddy," I said. "Greg, if anything, is even more loving and affectionate when we're alone. You know how he is. You remember why I had to get a cell phone? He still calls me as soon as he wakes up and just before he goes to bed. He treats me like I'm some kind of glass princess. I do wish he'd realize that I'm tougher then he thinks, but other than that we're fine."

"Then why did you do this?" he screamed. "Our whole family is a laughing stock all over town, because of you. Your sister got propositioned three times on her way to work this morning. You've been lying here asleep for over twenty four hours and everything has gone to hell. My boss asked me to take a few weeks off so I could attend to my FAMILY matters." My dad gave me a sarcastic smile as he said that part.

"What he really meant was that the distraction I brought to the office was bad for business. There were all kinds of people stopping by to see the father of the whore. Penny, I'm a salesman and a very good one. But Honey, my base salary is less than half of my income. If I'm not out there selling products and meeting customers, I don't make much money. Your mom's job is more of a hobby than anything else. After taxes and what not, she probably clears about a hundred bucks a week. This is going to hurt us."

"I'm sorry that I was raped by a bunch of bikers," I spat. "If only I could have told them, hey guys don't rape me because my dad won't make any money and my family will be embarrassed. This wasn't my fault Daddy. I didn't wish for this to happen."

"Don't take that tone with me young lady," he yelled. "While you've been laid up here on your ass, the rest of us have had to deal with the mess you made. No one blames you for what happened with the bikers. Everyone knows that was against your will, or at least we hope it was. But what led to you being taken by them was your whorish behavior in the days before it. You basically put yourself in a position by your actions that made those men think they could do what they did. And then someone else had to pay the price for what you did."

"What?" I said. "Daddy that's stupid. You're saying that if a woman is out on the beach wearing a bikini then that gives perverts a license to rape her."

"Of course not," he snapped. "But think about it. Those assholes ride right by women all the time. Some of them are attractive young women wearing miniskirts and whatever else girls wear these days. They've never attacked or taken anyone off the streets before this. Do you think that seeing a girl, especially an attractive one, fucking a guy in broad daylight in public might've made them think she was available? They'd really believe that if they saw her doing it more than once, wouldn't they?"

I refused to answer him and I could no longer meet his gaze.

"I guess they beat the guy you were with pretty badly, huh?" he asked.

"No, Daddy," I said. "He ran off and left me with them. I don't understand it. He's an MMA fighter. He's never lost a fight."

"He's never had a fight," spat my dad. "He's not a fighter of any kind. He's a bum. He's married to a woman who lives two towns over. While she goes to work every day, he's supposed to be watching their children. He's been getting his younger sister to watch the kids in exchange for favors while he goes out. The police department had him interviewed with one of their behavioral specialists while they try to figure out what to do with him. Apparently, he's so dissatisfied with his life that he goes out and spins these fantasies and takes advantage of simple minded girls. He has very little power in his home life since his wife is supporting him, so he gets back his self-esteem by becoming an adventurous and mysterious figure; or in your case an MMA fighter."

I sank down even further in the bed. "That's what everyone in town is laughing at you for. They were already laughing at Becky for losing Jason, but we already knew the kind of woman Becky is. No one expected this from you. Another thing they hate you for is the beating that Greg took for you. Even the bikers who beat him admitted that they've never seen anyone take that kind of beating for someone else. Half of the town thinks he's a hero. The other half, think he's a fool."

I looked up at him. "Would you have done that for mom?" I asked.

My dad looked at me and I could tell he was telling me the truth. "I like to think that I would," he said. "But there are a lot of things to consider. First, of course, is the fact that, Penny, most of the things they did to him should have caused him to black out from the pain alone. Even the doctors have no clue as to how he was able to keep getting back up. Any one of his injuries would have put most men down for the count, but he kept getting back up. As much as I love your mother, under the same situation, I'm not sure I would have."

"You would have dad," I smirked. "You love mom."

"But not if I knew she'd been cheating on me," he spat. "That's why they think he's a fool. Penny, Greg went in there after you, knowing what you'd done. I'm hoping he wakes up, because I really need to know why the hell he suffered all of that after what you did to him. I also want to see him recover because he's a fine young man. And whether you realize this or not, if Greg dies, we're probably going to have to move and your life in particular will be over."

"Daddy, eventually this will die down," I said. I was sure that Greg would pull through. He just had to. There was no way I could be without him. My dad looked at me stupidly.

"Honey, have you ever heard of the internet? Your picture and news of what happened are all over the world. People all over, everywhere, are waiting breathlessly to see if Greg pulls through. There was even a call from the White House, expressing the well wishes of the president for Greg's speedy recovery. Do you remember Monica Lewinski?" I nodded.

"The world and the US have forgiven Bill Clinton many times over. He does speaking engagements and accepts all kinds of accolades and awards for his presidency. Among democrats, he's so highly regarded that they trot him out to endorse whatever candidate they're running, like some sort of prized pony. Hell, even the republicans used some of his quotes..."

"The thing is, Penny, years later the scandal is fodder for the history books. Clinton is rich, famous and well thought of. This is despite the fact that he was a mature adult who held the highest office in the land and he let us down, badly. On the other hand, Monica was only a young girl, who was star struck and was probably taken advantage of, but the world has never forgiven her. In the Clinton scandal, no one was seriously hurt or killed. Do you really think this will just blow over?"

I didn't have an answer for that. All my father's words did was made me feel worse.

"Have you noticed that they have both a cop and a security guard watching your room?" he asked. "The cop is to make sure that you don't try to flee."

"Why would I try to escape?" I asked. "I'm the victim."

"You're also facing a bunch of charges," he said.

"For what?" I asked.

"Remember what they got Becky on?" he said. "She has to pay a five hundred dollar fine. In Becky's case, she did what she did out of public view. She was behind a hedge or something. You were right out in open so it carries a stiffer fine. You also did it twice. They're also putting part of the blame for what happened at the house on you. They're trying to charge you as an accessory to Greg's beating, because if it hadn't been for you, this would never have happened."

"Okay, I'm a criminal," I spat. "I understand why there's a cop on my door. Why is there a security guard? What can he do that the cop can't?"

"The security guard is there to protect you from the cop," spat my dad. "The police in this town don't really like you much. The governor has sent down a team to investigate our police department after this incident."

"You know that we have a very small police force. There are usually only six on them on duty at a time, with another six off duty. They work twelve hour shifts and rotate them monthly. When this happened, I had just pulled up in front of the house and the police were already there. There were five of them and they wouldn't let me go in. They told me I'd get killed. They told me that some fool kid had gone in there and hadn't been heard from since. They told me they'd called the state police and were waiting for them to arrive. Then, that tiny little lady officer grabbed a shotgun and ran inside. She called them all cowards. They all just stood there looking at the ground and calling her crazy."

"We heard one shotgun blast and then nothing. The cops were saying that she probably got one of them before they took the gun from her and overpowered her. That was when the rest of the motorcycles pulled up and the police ran away. Penny, they got into their cars and burned rubber getting out of there. I guess they assumed that the second group of bikers would stand with the first group. We found out what happened later on when we talked to Terri."

"Who the hell is Terri?" I asked.

"She's the cop," he said. "She was the one who told us about what happened inside at least from when she got there. She didn't paint a pretty picture of it. She said they just stood around taking shots and kicks at him even when he couldn't even stand up any more. But he never stopped fighting."

"Daddy, I'm tired," I said. "I need some sleep."

"Honey, you've been asleep for more than a day. The police are going to ask you about what happened. What do you remember?" he asked.

"That's just it Daddy," I shouted. "They put something in a drink they gave me. I don't remember anything. I know I had sex with them, but I don't know how many times, or who it was. I know they took my ass because it hurts really badly and I've never done that before. But everything is a blank slate." He just looked at me and pulled the blanket up around me so I could go to sleep.

Over the next few days, I was interviewed many times. I saw therapists, profilers, police sketch artists and people whose jobs I don't even remember. I told them all the same story; over and over until I was tired of hearing it myself.

For over a week, I asked several times a day whether or not I could see Greg. I was always told that he hadn't regained consciousness yet. Every day was worse. Greg had three surgeries to repair injuries while he was still in a coma. No one ever told me anything about him except for my dad. After a week, I was allowed to go home, but I had to wear an electronic tether on my ankle and there was an officer assigned to our house. Mostly he followed me around and watched TV, while scowling at me.

My dad always spoke to me but things were different between us. I guess this had knocked me off of the pedestal he'd put me on. My mom was polite, but she never looked me in the eye. She also never touched me. I'd grown up in a house where we were always affectionate with each other. My mom usually came in to give me a hug and suggest possible chores for me before she went to work. It was a joke between us because she knew I wouldn't do them.

I think my mom's refusal to hug me or touch me in any way hurt me more than what was going on. But nothing prepared me for the outright hostility in my sister's eyes. It was as if she was openly daring me to say something to her so she could attack me. I'm not sure she'd have limited her attack to a verbal one either. I was still remembering her slapping me and having to be pulled off of me at the hospital.

My sister and I had always had an adversarial relationship. We were relatively close and I could count on her to cover for me, if I was in trouble; like she'd done earlier with the incident on the roller coaster. But there had always been an undercurrent of competition between us. My parents had been to blame for that. I had always been the golden child. I was pretty much given whatever I wanted. Julie had to work for hers.

When we first met, Greg had started calling me night and day, so my parents got me a cell phone to keep the house phone from being tied up, but also so they wouldn't have to get up to answer it, then walk up the stairs to get me. Julie asked them for a cell phone and they tied it to her grades which had always been far better than mine and to her getting a job to pay the bill.

But her animosity seemed to stem from something deeper. I asked my dad about it and found out that Brian, Greg's brother, had bowed to the pressure of the people in town and had dumped Julie.

They made it seem like Brian was a fool to be dating the sister of the town whore. She'd probably end up getting him killed like I had Greg. Brian had tried to stick to his guns, but he wasn't made of as stern a stock as his brother was, so he folded under the pressure. I never thought that Julie cared for Brian the way I did for Greg. I always thought the two of them were kind of going through the motions and practicing for when they met their real true loves, but what did I know?

After almost two weeks and five surgeries, Greg woke up. He was as weak as a kitten and only stayed awake for minutes at a time and no one, not even my parents or my sister, bothered to tell me.

The first I heard of it was when I overheard my mother and my sister. They'd both gone into the bathroom together and closed the door. Our house has more than one bathroom, so there was no need for them to both go in there together with the door closed unless they were hiding something. At first I thought that they didn't want my cop to know what they were talking about, but he was downstairs. Dad was outside. He'd been trying to do a lot of projects around the house to fill his time since he couldn't go to work.

That meant that there was something they didn't want ME to know. I took the water glass from my bedside table and put it against the door. That shit really works. I heard Julie telling my mom that they had been worried about brain damage, but that the swelling in his brain was going down. They didn't think it would be necessary to take a piece of his skull out to reduce the pressure. I almost dropped the glass when I heard that.

Then I heard something that pissed me off royally. Julie told my mom that the previous evening he'd awakened for a few minutes while she was there. He had squeezed her hand and said her name.

I opened the door and confronted them. My mom looked like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, But Julie just glared at me.

"The least you could have done was to tell me that he was out of the coma," I said.

"Sorry," said my mom. "Penny, your therapist doesn't think it's a good idea for you to see Greg or Becky or anyone connected with this until we have a full work up on your condition. Your memory loss might be due to the drugs, in which case seeing Greg wouldn't hurt you at all, it might even make you better. On the other hand, if your memory loss is due to your mind blocking out what happened to avoid traumatizing you, seeing Greg might bring it all back."

"There's also the fact that, Honey, you love Greg don't you?"

"Of course," I said. "There's no doubt of that."

"Well, seeing him this way would probably hurt you. He has blotches all over his face and swelling. They have a patch over one of his eyes and the other is just barely open. There are wires and weights attached to his legs and the cast on his wrist is huge. There was a tube sticking out of it to allow the blood to drain out after the surgery and..."

"Mom, I love Greg," I whined. "You know, for better and for worse...I can handle it. I want to see him. I need to see him." My sister snorted at my words.

I looked at her and told her that she could have at least told me what she knew about him.

"Why?" she asked. "I don't have to tell you shit!"

I was shocked because Julie doesn't curse much, even when she's upset. And she had never cursed in front of either one of our parents.

"Besides," she said nastily. "His visitation is extremely limited. Right now, it's no more than two people at a time in the room. Usually there's a family member and one other person. His family is kind enough to allow us to visit him. One of them has to go and do something else while we visit. There's also a list of exactly who is allowed to visit him." She looked at me and smiled.

"I go over every day at lunchtime and in the evening after work. Besides seeing Greg, I get to see my cowardly ex-boyfriend. Most of the time, when I get there Terri is just leaving." My eyes narrowed then. I wanted to see this Terri. I'd heard too much about her.

"Well, I'm going over there," I said. "Seeing Greg won't hurt me. Even if I am traumatized, he's the one who saved me. Seeing him would make me feel stronger and protected. And Greg loves me, so seeing me won't hurt him. It'll probably help him get better sooner." Julie spat out an ugly laugh then.