Overkill(87)

Kate said, “Was Rebecca all right with the ‘play’? With having an audience?”

“Yes,” Cal said tightly. “I swear to God. I swear on my baby’s life, she was into it.”

“It’s not easy to talk about,” Theo said thinly, looking warily at Zach.

Zach swore under his breath. “Look, you can take off the filters about the sex, all right? I don’t care about that. What I care about, what I want to know is why Rebecca gets fed through a goddamn rubber hose.”

In obvious distress, Theo cupped his hand over his mouth.

Kate gave them all time to settle down, then asked, “What happened after the ménage?”

Cal resumed. “Theo and I sort of crashed. Theo collapsed onto the floor. I stretched out on a lounger across the room. Rebecca stayed on the bed, lying on her back.

“Eban carried over the bottle of vodka they’d been sharing and told her to open her mouth. When she did, he poured vodka into it. Or tried. His aim was off. They made a game of the splashing. And then some spilled into her mouth. She strangled on it. Maybe that’s what sparked the idea for Eban. Or maybe that was what he wanted to do all along. I don’t know.”

He stopped and looked over at Theo, who was fiddling with the zipper tab on his rain jacket, still leaving the narrative to Cal. He picked up. “Anyway, at first we didn’t understand what he was talking about. We’d done some wild things, but never anything like that. He hadn’t even mentioned such a thing.”

“What did he say?” Kate asked.

“He told Rebecca he’d like to try something really exotic. It would give her an orgasm like none other. She would erupt. She would see God.”

Zach said, “Did he tell her that, in order for this miracle to take place, he would choke her?”

“Yes, but he was tender about it. Sweet. He sat down on the bed and stroked her hair. ‘Only if you’re game,’ he said. And she pumped her fist and said, ‘Fuck yes.’”

Theo spoke up. “That’s right. Eban looked over at Cal and me and, one at a time, asked us, ‘You heard me ask her, right? And you heard her say yes?’ We both nodded yes. We’d heard.”

“But Rebecca wanted a safe word,” Zach said.

“No,” Theo said. “Eban said they needed a safe word.”

“Eban?” Kate said. “Are you sure?”

Cal gave a definitive nod. “Yes. He said if you do kinky, you must have a safe word. Theirs would be Porsche. He had a hankering for one, he said. If Rebecca said Porsche, it would get his attention, and he’d be sure to stop. She laughed and said, ‘Don’t count on me saying it.’” As though he feared that Zach would challenge that claim, he looked straight at him. “That’s what she said. Clear as day.”

Zach cut him no slack. “But she did say the safe word, didn’t she?”

“She tried.” Cal shifted his gaze from Zach to Kate. “That’s what we lied about. Eban was on top of her, missionary position,” he said, giving an ironic snort. “Since then, I’ve learned that people who’re into this asphyxiation thing usually use a garrote from behind. But Eban was facing her, and he had both hands on her throat, pressing down, right on her windpipe. She was…” He looked to Theo for help.

“At first everything appeared normal,” Theo said. “They were going hard at it, but that wasn’t anything different. Then Eban started up this weird chant. ‘You like it. You love it. You love it, don’t you?’ Other things. Vulgar things. I noticed that her movements changed. They became frantic. She was twisting underneath him, digging her heels into the mattress, thumping his back with her fists, and not like in ecstacy. In panic.

“I was still on the floor, out of it, but I had enough of my faculties to recognize that she was struggling to breathe. I crawled over to the bed.” He paused, swallowed. “Her eyes were this big.” He made twin circles with his fingers. “Terrified. Like a trapped animal. Her mouth was open. She was trying to say something, but couldn’t. Trying to breathe, but couldn’t.

“I yelled at Eban, told him to stop. But he was past hearing. It was like he was possessed. Demonic. And he kept up that creepy chant. Scared the hell out of me. I shouted at Cal.”

Cal said, “I was almost too stoned to move. I’d been watching them. But detached, you know? Like watching porn on TV. When Theo started shouting and punching Eban’s shoulder and trying to drag him off of her, I realized something bad was going on. I couldn’t even stand up straight, but I made it over to the bed.

“I took one look and knew that she was past being able to say anything, so I screamed ‘Porsche, Porsche,’ directly into Eban’s ear, and tried to pull him away. But, like Theo said, he was in another zone. Unlike I’d ever seen him, and I’d seen him wacked out completely. This was different. He seemed not to hear or feel or see us. He just kept pounding into her.”

He had been talking rapidly, as though feeling the same surge of adrenaline, the same urgency he had in those moments when he’d tried in vain to prevent the tragedy. Now, he sagged weakly back into the chair and took several deep breaths. He ran his hand over his face, as if in an attempt to rub away the memory. Dully, he said, “Eban pulled out and came on her stomach. Then he flopped onto his back beside her and said, ‘Man, that was fucking fantastic. Who’s next?’”