The Gate House

He pulled the tape off Susan’s mouth. “What do you have to say, bitch?”

She took a deep breath between her sobs and said, “Please. Just do what you want and leave us alone.”

He laughed. “Yeah. I’m go

He threw his cigarette on the rug and ground it out with his heel. He asked me, “Why’d you slash my painting, John?”

I didn’t reply, and he said to Susan, “I liked that painting, and your husband here fucked it up. So you’re go

Susan nodded. “All right.”

He smiled, then looked at me. “Okay, John? You and your wife come over for coffee. Just like the old days. And you sit there, like you did ten years ago when you knew my father was fucking your wife, except this time, it’s me who fucked your wife. And you won’t have shit to say about it.”

I nodded. It was possible, I thought, that we’d get out of this alive, and if I ever got close enough to Anthony Bellarosa to have coffee with him, then I would be close enough to put a knife in his heart.

He said, “And you’re both go

This was Anthony’s revenge fantasy, and he’d obviously thought about this for a long time, and he was going to draw it out, to taunt us, humiliate us, and do everything he could to make sure this stayed with us long past the time he walked out the door.

And then I thought of the other painting in his den – the Rape of the Sabine Women. And now I understood – or had I always understood? – why it was there, and why Susan’s painting was also in his den.

I realized, too, that this bastard was so sure of himself that he thought he could rape Susan and smirk about it every time he saw us. And I didn’t want him to think otherwise. I said, “Just don’t hurt her.”

He smiled at me and said, “I’m going to make her feel good. Like my father did.”

Susan said to him, “Please. Just do it and leave. We won’t say anything.”

“You’re fucking right you won’t say anything.”

I saw Anthony glance at his watch, and I wondered if he was on a schedule, or if he was waiting for Tony to return.

He lit another cigarette and said to me, “When I’m done with your wife, I’m go

I didn’t respond.

“Yeah. This is going to be a very long night. But it’s better than being dead.” He looked at Susan and said, “Okay, sweetheart. You waited long enough. You excited?”

Susan didn’t respond.

“Come on, tell me you’re excited.”

“I’m excited.”

He laughed, then went to Susan’s bureau and took the camera that she’d put there to pack.

He ground his cigarette out on the bureau, then examined the camera. He took three shots of Susan on the bed, then a shot of me. He threw the camera on the bed and said, “Okay, we’ll use up that roll tonight when Tony gets here. Hey, you don’t mind if I keep the film? I’ll send you copies.” He looked at me and said, “If you live. And that depends on how good she is to me. And I want you both on that plane tomorrow. Understand? I want you the fuck out of here. You’re go

As he walked toward the bed, I could see that he was aroused. He said to Susan, “How’s that look, sweetheart? You think you can take all that?”

She nodded.

I noticed that he had a pocketknife in his hand. He unclasped the knife and cut the nylon cord on Susan’s left wrist, then moved around the bed and cut the other three cords.

“Okay, bitch, out of bed.” He grabbed her hair and pulled her off the bed, then shoved her onto the floor. “You kneel right here where your husband can see you.”

Susan knelt alongside the bed, and we made eye contact. I nodded and said to her, “It’s all right.”

He smiled at me and said, “Yeah? It’s all right? Good. It’s all right with me, too.”

He put the knife under her chin and told her, “Don’t try anything, or I’ll kill you both. Understand?”

She nodded.

“All right…” He took a step closer to her and said, “Put that in your mouth.”

Susan hesitated, so he grabbed her hair again and pulled her face into his groin. He glanced at me and said, “You better fucking watch this, or I’ll beat her ass with that belt.”

I nodded.

He said to her, “Open up. That’s it… put it in there, bitch… okay… ooh, that’s nice… John? Watch her suck my cock-”

All of a sudden, he let out a scream, dropped the knife, and jumped backwards.

Susan fell face first on the floor and rolled under the bed. Anthony was holding his groin, doubled over and groaning in pain, then he dropped to the floor, stuck his head under the bed skirt, and grabbed for her.

I shouted, “Anthony, you fuck! You dumb piece of shit!” I grabbed the radiator and rocked it, trying to break the co

As I looked up, he was standing and moving quickly to the far side of the bed, screaming, “You fucking bitch! You’re dead, you fucking bitch!”

I saw Susan’s head and shoulders rising above the bed, then as Anthony came at her, she stood, and slowly and deliberately raised the shotgun to her shoulder. He was less than three feet from her when he stopped dead in his tracks and said, “What the-?”

I heard a loud blast, and I saw Susan’s right shoulder lurch back. Anthony’s whole body moved backwards, then he lost his footing and fell.

I saw Susan switch to the other barrel as she took a step toward him. She raised the shotgun to her shoulder again and pointed the barrels at his face.

“Susan!”

She looked at me.

“No. Don’t.”

She looked back at Anthony, who I could see was still moving, and he raised his right arm in a protective gesture.

“Susan! Find the keys to these cuffs. Quick!”

She took another look at Anthony, then threw the shotgun on the bed and found the keys in Anthony’s pants pocket.

She knelt beside me, but we didn’t speak as she unlocked the cuffs. I stood quickly and went to the door and locked it. I looked at Anthony again, who was still very much alive, his hands over his chest, and his body rocking from side to side.

I took Susan in my arms. She was trembling, and I said, “Just sit here…” I moved her toward a chair and sat her down. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, and stared at Anthony.

I walked across the floor to Anthony and stood over him. Our eyes met. Then I looked at where he was holding both hands over the wound on the right side of his chest, and I saw blood seeping between his fingers. I’d expected to see his chest peppered with buckshot, but Susan had used the barrel with the deer slug. I looked at the wall behind where he had been standing, and I saw the bullet hole in the pale blue wallpaper.

I looked back at Anthony and again our eyes met. I said to him, “You brought this on yourself.”

His lips moved and a wheezing sound came out of his mouth. I heard him whisper, “Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you.”

I could see now that the blood coming through his fingers was mixed with red froth, meaning it was a lung wound. Not good, but he could live… if he got to a hospital. I noticed, too, that there was blood on his penis, which was the least of his problems.

I went back to Susan, who was still sitting, staring at Anthony. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, never taking her eyes off Anthony.

I took her robe and panties off the floor and gave them to her. I said, “I’m going to call the police.”