But is it Immoral? Ch. 01

Finally the pain started to subside and she was able to stretch out and let the relaxing water engulf her entire body. She had to come up with a plan, she thought, there must be something I can do, but the more she tried to think the more she saw no hope of escaping from the clutches of the evil man.

Later that evening she tried to take her mind off of her situation long enough to fix herself something to eat, all she had since Friday night was some cold pizza. Sleep didn't come very easily to her and the next morning she was still in no shape for work so she called in sick.

By Tuesday morning her body was recovering from the pain but she still had a lot of discoloration where she had been beaten, especially around her wrists and neck. Most of it she could hide with clothes but she was very concerned about the black eye. She tried covering it with make-up the best she could but she knew it was still visible so she also made up a lie for anyone who asked her about it.

She picked out a winter blouse with long sleeves and a high collar but she could still see the rope burn around her throat. She thought for a minute then pulled a thin scarf from her drawer and tied it loosely around her neck. Hopefully her co-workers will just think she's trying to start a fashion trend, she deemed.

She got into work a little early hoping she wouldn't have to answer anyone's questions about her appearance. It almost worked too until her best friend, Bel, popped into her office from down the hall. She was one of the few who stuck with her through the divorce.

"Jean, what happened to you eye?" she inquired with concern.

"Oh I hit myself with a cabinet door in the kitchen," she said trying to sound convincing. "The damn thing was stuck so I gave it a yank and it came back and whacked me."

"Geez that must have hurt something terrible; it looks like hell."

"Yeah," she responded forcing a smile, "Thanks for telling me how awful I look."

It was then she noticed how Jean was dressed. "What the hell?" she almost shrieked, "It's eighty degrees out and you're wearing long sleeves and scarf? What the hell is going on, Jean?"

"Nothing," she replied not too convincingly, "I, ah...I; well I was sick all weekend with the chills and I was just trying to stay warm today, that's all."

Jean could see the doubt in her friend's face and knew she didn't believe her. Try as she did, Jean couldn't help the fear that she knew was in her eyes; then they started to water...

"Bull shit," Bel said, "Something is wrong; did someone beat you up?"

"No, no," denied Jean emphatically, "No, I...Bel, please just leave me alone right now, please."

It was obvious to Bel something was dreadfully wrong with her friend and she was not going to be dismissed until she got to the bottom of it. She stubbornly pulled a chair up to the side of Jean's desk and sat down.

"Listen, remember me? You know me better than that; I'm not budging from this spot until you tell me what the hell is going on."

Jean didn't know what to do; she was terrified of Kevin; what would happen to her if she told, what would happen to her parents? She buried her face in her hands and started to cry, when she did the sleeves of her blouse rode up her arm and exposed the bruises on her wrists.

"Oh My God! Who did that to you?" she yelled jumping up to take a better look. Bel put two and two together and figured Jean was also hiding something under the scarf. The frightened woman winced with pain as her friend started to remove it. "My God, somebody did a real job on you;" she said examining the rope burn, "I'm not leaving here until you tell me what this is all about, Jean, I mean it," she declared.

"Bel, you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

"I'll promise no such thing; whoever did this belongs in jail, what the hell's the matter with you?"

"You don't know him, he said he's having me watched; he said if I told anyone he'd send some friends to gang rape my mother right in front of my dad. Bel he's mean, real mean; I'm scared to death." She started to sob.

"Does this have anything to do with that bondage stuff?"

Jean's eyes widened, she had no idea Bel, or anyone outside of a few people knew of her submissive tendencies.

"Oh don't look so surprised," Bel told her, "I'm married to one of the cops that handled your case for the DA, remember? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I haven't told a sole."

"Oh, Bel; I'm so ashamed," she said not being able to look her friend in the eye.

"Ashamed, why; lots of people are into that stuff, there's nothing to be ashamed about. Is that what this is all about? Is this guy supposed to be some kind of Dom or something?"

"Yes," she responded nodding her head, "But it's gone way beyond that, this guy just gets off on beating and torturing women. I don't know what to do."

"Well the first thing is to have him arrested."

"No, no I can't; don't you understand, he's viscous, he means what he says; I have no doubt he'd do exactly what he said," she told Bel almost getting hysterical.

"Alright, alright calm down; Jean you have to do something, you can't just let him keep doing this to you."

"I know, but what? What can I do?"

"Don't worry, honey; we'll figure out something. What's his name, I'll have Dave do a check on him; maybe he's wanted somewhere; maybe we can get him arrested on something completely unrelated to you." She saw the alarm in Jean's eyes again. "Don't worry, I'll tell Dave the situation, he wouldn't do anything to put you or your parents in jeopardy."

Bell picked her phone up and called her husband, a Cook County officer who was assigned to the DA's office. She relayed the information to him.

"Bel, where did this happen?" he asked.

"In his apartment in Whelling."

"Then she should call over there; tell her to ask for the sexual assault division and fill out a complaint. We can't do anything for her otherwise."

"Can't you run a make on the guy...just see if he's wanted anywhere?" Please." His wife begged.

"Yeah, I can do that; okay, give me half an hour and I'll call you back," he told her.

"Thanks, honey; I love you," she said kissing the phone.

Bel turned to her friend, "Okay, Dave's going to check for us; in the meantime let's go to lunch."

That sounded good to Jean; she needed to get out of the office for a while and try to relax. The two friends took off for the restaurant around the corner. They had just been served when Dave called back.

"Bel, the guy's squeaky clean; not so much as a parking ticket; if Jean won't sign a complaint our hands are tied."

"Dave, she can't. This guy told her even if he's in jail he can get word to his buddies. If he was picked who knows what he would do to Jean or her parents."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, "I have an idea but Jean might not like it," he finally said...

Continued...