He began to cry like the spineless piece of shit he was.
"Did Gabi cry like this when you'd come into her room and rape her? Did she beg you to stop? Because that's what you're going to do now. You're going to beg me. But I'm not going to listen. I'm going to do to you what you did to Gabi. I'm going to shove this pipe up your ass so hard it'll come out of your throat." My voice was thick and strained as I growled in his ear, swiping the pipe along his jaw.
He cried harder and actually began to beg. I wondered if Gabi crossed his mind during any of this. If he thought about how much she probably begged him to stop just before he took everything from her. I wondered if the images of her bleeding all over the bathroom floor flooded his mind at the thought of me doing the same to him.
Rage consumed me and all I could think about was degrading him, violating him the way he had done to an innocent girl. And then I thought about beating the life out of him with the same pipe I'd use to tear him open. I wanted him dead. He needed to know exactly how it felt for Gabi, and then I wanted to kill him. He didn't deserve to live after what he'd done.
"I was a kid. I was fucked up on shit. Please, don't do this," he pleaded.
"She was a kid, motherfucker!"
"I've had to live with it. I've regretted it since it happened. I was fucked up."
I held him by his throat, cutting off his windpipe. "She's had to live with it. She had to have an abortion because of you. She was hospitalized after you left her to bleed all over herself. You don't deserve mercy. You don't even deserve death, but that's what you're going to get."
Before I could do anything else, sirens grew closer, followed by the screeching of tires. I didn't move off him until there were four men, all aiming their guns directly at me.
"Put down the weapon," one ordered.
"You're fucking lucky," I whispered to him as I threw the pipe to the side, away from me.
Within seconds, I was tackled and cuffed. They patted me down, but didn't find anything on me. Paramedics arrived just as I was being lifted from the ground. The officers that escorted me to the back of the cruiser asked me questions, but I didn't answer any of them. I was still in a rage-filled haze and couldn't think straight. Once I was seated in the back of the patrol car, I looked down and noticed the blood that splattered my pants. I'd never had someone else's blood on me before. I had never even thrown a punch before. It was a little scary at how mad I'd become while attacking him. It was a terrifying thought that I could do something like that with my bare hands, but I didn't regret it, though.
The drive to the station went by in a blur. It felt like I blinked and was there. I knew I needed to call Janette so she could handle the situation, but I'd never been arrested before, so I didn't know what the protocol was for requesting a phone call. You see scenes in movies about being allowed a phone call, but I had no idea if that actually happened.
Since starting Kauffmann Investments, I'd been in the news plenty of times, but never in a negative light. It was something I was very proud of. Anytime Kauffmann was mentioned, it was always for something positive. My donations to various charities, fundraisers I'd attended, what I'd done for struggling businesses. Never anything bad, not even a rumor. But even I knew I wouldn't be able to keep something like this from getting out. Janette was paid well for what she did, and this would definitely be a test of her PR skills.
I was taken inside and fingerprinted. They took my mug shot and then led me to a holding cell with other criminals. I had no idea in what order it all happened; all I knew was my life had just taken another turn, and I had no idea where I was headed.
When I was finally given the chance to make my obligatory phone call, I knew exactly who to contact.
"What the hell did you do?" Janette asked in a tone I'd never heard before.
"Just get someone from legal here. Please." My monotone was unfamiliar, as well. "And I need you to reach Eden. Tell her I'll explain everything after my arraignment on Monday. Tell her I'll see her at the office."
"You're in jail, and that's what you're concerned about? Your assistant? Should I call Gabi, too?"
I sighed and ignored the officer trying to rush me off the phone. "No. This is actually because of Gabi. I'll have the lawyer tell you everything. But please, make sure Eden knows. I don't want her thinking I left."
The call ended and I waited for my lawyer to show up. When he finally did, we were taken to a room for privacy. He explained the charges I faced and the possible outcome. The only thing I cared about was getting back to Eden, but that would be a while. Since it was a Friday, and with this being a criminal charge, I had to wait until Monday for arraignment. So, I'd have to spend the weekend in the holding cell.
The time went by at a snail's pace. My thoughts wandered back and forth between Gabi and Eden. I had plenty of time to contemplate what I should do once I got out. I knew I wanted to be with Eden, but I also knew Gabi shouldn't be with her mother. Not after what she told me. She allowed vicious and horrible things to happen to her own daughter, and should not be trusted with a second chance. But I was worried that Gabi didn't have anywhere else to go. There was no right thing to do. Eden wouldn't understand my need to protect Gabi, and Gabi wouldn't understand my feelings for Eden.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I cried. I curled up in the corner and quietly let the tears fall for Gabi. They leaked out as I thought about the girl who had no one. As much as I tried to protect her, I hadn't done a good job of it. It had all happened under my nose, while we were together, and I hadn't stopped it. She'd gone through an abortion and never told me. I had always known something was wrong, but I never pushed her to confide in me. I should have pushed. I believed she trusted me. But maybe she thought I wouldn't have done anything. If her own mother didn't, maybe she expected the same from me.
"I don't understand. So nothing's going to happen to me?" I asked as my lawyer escorted me to his car in the parking lot of the jailhouse on Sunday morning. I was confused and the lack of sleep from two nights in a holding cell didn't help matters.
"The district attorney said there's not enough to go after you. All they have are the statements from the cops saying they found you on top of the guy with a pipe in your hand. But since none of his injuries were caused from the pipe, and he walked away with a broken nose and a minor concussion, their hands are tied. As of right now, the guy you decided to use as a punching bag has decided to not press charges, and the other men have suddenly forgotten what they saw," he explained as we made our way over to the impound lot to get my car. "You got lucky, though. The DA just happened to have been in this weekend dealing with a major case. Had he not been there, you would've been stuck inside even longer."
"So what does this mean for me?"
"It means keep your nose clean and don't talk to anyone but your legal team about this. No commenting on reports or answering questions."
"Is there a chance they could charge me with something later?"
"From what I've been told, this Todd guy refuses to cooperate with the prosecution. It also helps that you are a stand-up guy in the community and have no prior record. Todd, on the other hand, has a rap sheet a mile long. Someone upstairs is looking out for you. I don't know who, but you have an angel on your side."
I nodded and got out as soon as we pulled into the lot.
Once I got my car, I grabbed my phone from the cup holder where I'd left it and plugged it in. The screen lit up with missed calls and messages. I bypassed those and immediately called Eden, not bothering to read or listen to the ones she'd left.
She answered on the third ring, groggy and sounding as if I'd woken her up. "Where have you been?"
I sighed, every emotion known to man hitting me all at once. However, the most prominent one was irritation. It was clear Janette hadn't informed her where I was or what had gone on since I'd left her apartment. "I was just released from jail."
"Jail?" Her voice went up a few octaves, no longer weighted down with sleep. "Why? What happened?"
"I'll tell you all about it when I get there, but I have to go home and shower first. I stink. Will you be home?" I was relieved to hear her voice, although slightly frustrated that I had to wait to hold her in my arms. This weekend was supposed to be ours, and I'd wasted most of it in a holding cell.
"Yeah. I'll be here. Just tell me one thing. Is everything all right?"
"Everything is fine. I promise." With that, I disconnected the call and proceeded to play the voicemails as I left the impound lot.