Time for Revenge

Trigger Warning: DV

Tied up and naked on the bed, Lucia pulls at her restraints gently to see if there is any give. Her ankles and wrists are already rubbed raw by the nylon and Velcro cutting into them for hours. A strand of her golden hair slides off her forehead and tickles her nose. Shaking her head is one of the only movements she can manage in her exhausted state. For the last two hours he ravaged her body, slowly using her for his sick fantasies. She knows that begging and crying only make him more excited, so she holds back as much as she can. But she can’t help writhing under the hot wax, as droplets hit her bare skin, turning the porcelain color to a deep red. And she stopped wanting to know what he is shoving inside of her a few days ago. Not knowing is better. Her ribs ache where his weight was centered as he forced himself inside of her. She heard a crack as he bounced up and down, and she had to stifle the scream that crawled up her throat. Today is no different than other days, Lucia. You’re still alive. Let’s set the pain aside, travel to that safe spot in your mind: the one he has no access to. There you go. Breathe. Breathe.

Lucia knows that he will be back to let her loose in just a little bit. He would be disgusted if she relieved herself on the bed. And the beating that followed would be brutal. She’d be lucky if there weren’t any broken bones. So for now, she lies quietly and daydreams. Her favorite private indulgence is fantasizing about ways to kill him: slowly, painfully, dragging it out for days. But after her life of “captivity” as the wife of Gregg, she knows that a jail would truly kill her. Gregg has broken her body, but a jail would consume her soul.

The door flies open startling her and interrupting her reverie. Gregg walks in, clearly with a purpose.

“Lucia, I need you to get the house ready. I’ve got a few guys coming over for drinks after the merger tonight and we need to impress. We are a prominent family now, we have to look the part.”

He deftly pulls at the knots that bind her and she hears a rip of Velcro coming undone. The relief is like nothing she’s ever known: better than sex, better than rubbing your eyes after taking out your contact lenses. It is aching muscles being able to change positions, and blood traveling back to ice cold fingers. Remembering this feeling keeps her going during his incessant cruciations. Knowing the end will come eventually is the only salve to her growing number of wounds. She slowly twists her stiff muscles to the edge of their bed and places her feet carefully on the floor, testing to see if her ankles will hold her thin frame. Luck is on her side. Hobbling off to the bathroom, she hears him answer his cell phone. That should keep him distracted enough for her to get through the shower and apply some ice to her many aches. This truly is lining up to be an auspicious day.

Preparations for the evening keep Lucia occupied for most of the day. She moves slowly. Her small group of friends think she is graceful. For Lucia, it is just painful. But now the kitchen chrome is gleaming, the stainless has been wiped free of the grub that comes from human hands. Everything is shiny. This is just the way Gregg likes it. The smell of homemade bread fills the kitchen with warmth, and a candle burns in the window. The sun is slowly setting and the candle light flickers carelessly in the breeze. Lucia has a moment to indulge in her thoughts. Maybe I should burn the place down. I have nail polish remover. Wonder if that would start a house fire. Hmmm… I have a candle. What else would BURN….

Before she can act on any of that fantasy, the door flies open behind her, causing her to jump a little. Gregg has an aggressive way of announcing himself. He’s the man who can’t be ignored when he enters a room. Lucia’s heart rate spikes every time Gregg comes home. That damn fight or flight response. I wish I was a fighter…

“Lucia!! Lucia!” he growls, “Get in here!”

Lucia pushes through the pain to arrive right in front of him in a matter of seconds. He has left hand marks on her derriere for infractions less serious than taking a few extra seconds to report at his beck and call.

“The shareholders will be here in ten minutes. Make the final preparations, and do something with your makeup. It’s too… garish.” His face is a mask of disgust over the handsomely chiseled bones.

Lucia stands before him for another few seconds, knowing better than to move. This is a test. He wants to punish her. But she is learning how to adapt, how to survive.

“Dismissed.” he says with a smirk. “Well done, my dear. Now go. We don’t have long.”

Lucia hustles up the stairs as quickly as possible to avoid seeming like she is lollygagging. Every step is a challenge. Her hips scream and her ankles burn. Suicide. I could commit suicide. I don’t WANT to die, but this life. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it.

As she passes the bedroom, she glances at the bed: her personal prison, her personal hell. It is so neat and tidy right now, made without a wrinkle on the duvet. But she can see the black of the ankle restraint hanging at the foot of the bed. That won’t do. She goes to hide the trappings of her nightmare, and protect her husband’s dirty little secret, silently praying for a way to end her anguish.

The front door bell chimes. It echos on the marble in the entryway. Her footsteps click lightly on the travertine. The black Gucci heels look great, but they are so painful. Lucia answers the door, as gracious as always. Gregg quickly appears at her side, glancing to see if her makeup is up to his standards.

“Ahh, welcome to my home,” Gregg coos, smiling through perfect, white teeth. “You all remember my beautiful wife, Lucia?” Without waiting for a response from his guests, he leads them all toward the bar. “Would you be so kind as to pour us bourbon on the rocks, beautiful?” Gregg pulls Lucia close and gently kisses her forehead. Then, loud enough for the guests to hear, but acting like he is talking only to Lucia, “You’re my queen. Thank you for all you do for me.”

As Lucia pours the Blanton’s, the shareholders mingle. There is one man that she has not met before. A little eavesdropping leads her to conclude that he is the CEO of the company Gregg acquired. Lucia remains mostly quiet, a showpiece in the background of Gregg’s social life. She finishes preparing dinner and the men sit. The new gentleman pulls out a seat for Lucia at the corner of the table, right next to him.

“I’m David. It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Lucia. You have been a busy lady tonight.”

Shyly, Lucia faces him and decides that it is probably okay to engage in conversation. This is normally forbidden, but he has been on the fringe of the businessmen’s exchange all evening. It will be good to make him feel welcome. I feel like I know David. It’s not quite a deja vu feeling, but rather a connection of our souls. Like we knew each other in a past life.

“I love taking care of Gregg. Seeing his success continue here over drinks I’ve poured makes me whole. And I love to cook.” Lucia responds, following the prescribed conversation style. Gregg doesn’t trust her to talk to his friends candidly. “You seem to have enjoyed it all, right?” she asks. That familiar tug wraps around her heart, like the intimacy of a best friend. Lucia tries to shake it off, thinking she must be crazy. She has never met David. She’s a logical girl, and none of these feelings are logical.

“I definitely have, and I really hate to ask, but…” he paused and considered if he should continue or not. But he pressed on, “but, do you have a Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley? They are my favorite. I’m not much of a bourbon guy.”

Lucia nods enthusiastically. What is it about that wine? I can’t drink wine, but this… She feels like he’s tapping into some latent familiarity in her core essence. “Of course we do! I think we have a few different years. I can bring up a bottle for you, if you’d like to converse with the other shareholders until I return…?”

“Actually,” David added quickly, “I’d love to come with you and see your collection, if you don’t mind. It looks like everyone is having a great time and you won’t be missed for a few minutes. Indulge me, Lucia. You’ve had a hard night, and from the looks of it, maybe a hard day too. Please, let an old man join you on your walk to the cellar.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Lucia agrees. She knows that if she is caught alone with David, Gregg will be very angry. But there is an element of curiosity too. It may be from his eyes, the way he looks at her, or maybe it is from the way he said that she had a hard day. Something just seems unique and safe about David, and Lucia wants desperately to find out what is nagging at her. They set off together toward the cellar, down a stone spiral staircase that was built with the house in the days of bootlegging. David knows the way without the input of Lucia, but she is so lost in her thoughts that she does not realize that he is actually leading the way. When he speaks, it startles her out of her mental quest to figure out who this man is to her.

“Lucia, may I ask you a question? It’s of the personal nature, so I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries without your permission.”

Lucia considers before answering. Questions about her personal life haven’t really ended well since she has been with Gregg. She either lies, or completely avoids answering the question, preferring to change the subject. David seems different than the people she is used to interrogating her though, even if she cannot put her finger on why he is. “Sure,” she says slowly. “Go ahead.”

“Are your ribs broken? I notice because of the way you breathe. It seems a little too labored for a woman as trim and young as you are. And I could not help but notice that your stockings don’t completely cover rub marks on your ankles. So, I guess my question really is… ARE YOU OK HERE? What are you hiding?”

Lucia laughs despite the seriousness of the topic. “David, that was three questions, not one.” There she goes dodging questions again, back to her normal defense mechanism. Charm them with humor, so they don’t see the real pain.

“And now, about that Napa Valley wine you wanted…” Lucia glides directly over to the Cabernet section of the cellar. She feels like she could answer David without repercussion, but she is so trained not to respond to these questions that she feels physically unable to respond. Changing the subject is her safest course of action. “There should be something here,” but Lucia couldn’t finish the sentence. David was next to her with his hand on her cheek. Startled, Lucia jerks her head away. “What do you want from me?” she whispers, mostly afraid of hearing the tremble in her own voice. She cannot tell this stranger the truth about her life with Gregg, can she? He might judge her, or laugh at her pain the way Gregg always does. She decides quickly that she cannot risk opening up.

David’s response comes slowly and deliberately, as if choosing every word might be either the life or death of Lucia. “I know he hurts you. I can see it. I have seen it over and over again in the alleys I have traversed, in the eyes of women throughout time. And I think I have a solution for you.”

Lucia’s first instinct is to run. Who is this man? Is this a trap? Did Gregg send him to see if she was obedient? Why do I feel like I know him?! Why?!? But that familiar feeling wins out and makes her pause. And in this pause, David shoves a ring into her hand. It is heavy, gold. She glances down at it and sees that it looks like a normal fraternity ring. It has an Oxford logo on one side and the business school logo on the other, dated 1313. There is a nicely faceted ruby sitting atop. The ring was cold in her hand even though David had just been wearing it, and heavy. It’s so heavy for its size. What is this thing made of? And 1313, what is this guy??

David whispers, “Don’t talk. We don’t have much time. This ring will take you back to a single day in history. Any you choose. But only 24 hours. And use it quickly. I’ve seen men like your husband, and you may not be safe for more than a few days here. Please think it through. Just speak a single date in the past and the city where you’d like to go. Be specific. The ring will turn warm, and within seconds you will be in the location of your choosing. You can travel back here at any time within that 24 hours by just saying “home” three times in a row while holding the ring in your palm. As the 24 hours starts to run out, the ring will start to feel colder and colder. Please do whatever you plan to do before that happens. I feel like this is your one chance at a better life.” Then his tone changes back to jovial, not affording Lucia any time for questions. “Now, I think I’d like that 1999 you see sitting right there. I do hope Gregg has been saving it for an occasion just like this!”

Lucia can’t keep her mind off of the weight in her dress pocket. Again, lucky that she chose to wear her only dress with pockets! She so desperately wants to sneak away now, but she really needs to think. The easiest place to pull off a murder will be when he was in college at ASU. Tempe is a big city, but I know the normal places that he would be. I met him in the gym, and of course we hung out on Mill Ave. It will be safer to travel back to before we were together. That way I won’t run into my younger self. Lucia shivered at that thought. She has come a long way in the last twenty-three years. No need to get a visual of the old Lucia. She finishes cleaning up for the night and knows that Gregg will be waiting awake for her in the bedroom. Wishing she could avoid climbing those stairs, but also not wanting to draw attention to anything being off, she heads to bed, mentally preparing to not scream, no matter what he has in store for her.

Thankfully Gregg leaves before Lucia wakes in the morning. Her body is a little more bruised than it was last night before bed, but he never leaves the bruises anywhere the general public would see. And Lucia has had worse, at least there is no blood to clean up this morning. That fact alone gives her a new lease on the day. Today is THE day. The day she gets to kill Gregg. She has formulated a general plot in her head, but now she needs to pull it off. If she’s being honest with herself, she has no idea how this all will go down. So, she takes a deep breath and pulls the cold, leaden ring from her underwear drawer where she hid it. April 28, 2000. It was his birthday the year before they met. Lucia knows that he partied at a piano bar on Mill Ave. He took her there for her 21st birthday. She feels like she could pick him up at the bar pretty easily.

Breathing deeply, Lucia utters “Tempe, Arizona. April 28, 2000,” while holding the gelid ring. Slowly, her four poster bed and armoire fade, and the early morning on a college campus starts to materialize before her eyes. She shakes her head, trying to clear a somewhat drugged feeling from her brain. Ok, I’m really here. This REALLY worked. Astonished, Lucia looks around. Pull it together, Lucia! People are staring. Walk. Get a coffee. You remembered cash, go use some. Throughout the day, she walks campus, reminiscing on a life she didn’t know that she missed. But as the light starts to fade, she knows it is getting closer to “go” time. Gregg has a condo just off campus that he shares with his cousin, but she is away this semester studying abroad. Following him in the door would be easier than picking him up at the bar. But first, a trip to the Fascinations Superstore is in order. They have a huge bondage section with all the kinky BDSM supplies that a couple could want. It looks like a dungeon in that section of the store, and Lucia knew it to be true: like being trapped in a personal dungeon. That is just what she wants. A few of the strong under mattress bonds and two real sets of handcuffs later, she is on her way to the condo. I better keep an eye on the time, he should be back soon. I wish Uber was a thing now! Ok, girlie. Quell the crazy thoughts. It’s almost time to change your life.

At the condo, she leans on the railing just under Gregg’s doorway. The condo is still dark, so she knows she did not miss him. Is she wrong? Will he not come home tonight? As she starts to think Oh God, what if… her thoughts are interrupted by a door slamming. It’s him! He stumbles just a little while getting out of the taxi. Lucia waits until he closes the door. Breathe. You’ve got this. Think sexy thoughts. She leans in and knocks three raps on the door. In a stupor and smelling of Long Island Iced Tea, Gregg pulls the door open.

“What?” he asks in confusion, then stops himself. Leaning on the door frame, mostly for support, but also because he thinks he looks sexy, he changes his tune. “Well hi there sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

Lucia thinks quickly. She can’t just push her way in. “I saw you at the bar handsome, so I had a cab follow yours. Hope I wasn’t too presumptuous. But I asked your friends and I know that you’re single this birthday. Recovering from a little heartache. I know a way to soothe that pain.” She gives him that smile that he used to love and leans just a little closer. Gregg is pretty soused. She is betting this all on him letting her in.

“I don’t usually just let women into my place,” he slurs. “But I feel like tonight should be an exception.” Gregg stumbles back inside and falls on his couch like a skydiver coming in for a rough landing. Lucia grabs her bag and locks the door behind her,

“Why do I feel like I know you?” asks Gregg. Lucia panics a little but figures his recognition is from the alcohol She saunters slowly across his condo, which she remembers by heart. “Can I get you a glass of water? Or maybe a Corona?” Gregg declines both and beckens for her to come closer. “Let me touch you, baby… your hair looks so soft.” She goes to him and takes his hand, the hand that she is used to seeing with a platinum band on it. “Come with me then. I want to kiss you.” Slowly they head to the bedroom, knocking a poster off the wall on the way. Neither of them stop to see if there is any damage.

Kissing Gregg makes Lucia want to gag. She never kisses him anymore. His mouth swallows hers, his tongue massaging her tonsils and saliva threatens to coat her chin. Kissing him was never really something she really enjoyed. She also gains comfort from the fact that this will be the last time. Thank God, I won’t ever have to feel his mouth on me ever again. Just stick this out. Don’t turn away! Not now! She feels his hands tugging at her skirt. She helps him unbutton it and she slips out of her shirt. His clumsy, uncoordinated fingers manage to actually unbutton her bra and she feels it slip to the floor. His hands are hardened from playing intramural sports in the Arizona sun. They brush against her nipples and she feels herself getting aroused. This is the Gregg she fell in love with. How can I kill him? Maybe I should just disfigure him. Ugh! But then my dumb college self might still fall for his debonair smile. Dammit. Ok, Lucia. Kill him. Kill him. She repeats it in her head like a mantra and dissociates from her body and its hormones. Compartmentalize. Set the body aside. You do it with pain, now do it with pleasure.

“Mmmm, sexy,” Lucia purrs in his ear. “I want to be your mistress, your dominatrix. Now go lie on the bed. On your back. I want access to that big cock.”

Gregg starts to protest, never being much of a submissive, but Lucia cuts him off with her finger to his lips and his balls in her other hand. “Don’t talk, darling. Just go lie down.” He starts to stumble to the bed, then veers to the window to close it.

“Don’t want the neighbors to hear whatever fun you have in store for me.” Gregg lights a candle he has on his end table before going to jump into bed, willingly holding his arms up to be tethered to the bed. The room slowly begins to smell of honeysuckle, and the flame casts a bouncing shadow on the wall behind it. Gregg might be the only male who willingly shops at Yankee Candle. Lucia never complained about that. Their candles smell better anyway. Watching the flame reminds her of this morning, in the kitchen at her home in the future. The kitchen and the candle start to put an idea in her head.

She secures Gregg’s feet to the bed, as well as his hands. Running her finger down his torso, she tickles him just enough to make him pull at the ties. He can pull, but the restraints hold tight. Lucia grabs the ring from her bag of treasures. It is her key back to the land of her new life. It is cold, like someone put it in the fridge, or set it in front of the air conditioner in the summer in an Arizona condo. Hustle, Lucia. Move.

She slips around the corner to Gregg’s kitchen. The condo isn’t very big, and if Lucia is right, this will work in her favor. The stove is gas, just like she knew it would be. Turn the knob, you know how. Just don’t ignight it. This should go fast. She picks up a shirt from the floor. It’s Gregg’s. She slips it over her head, grabs her panties and the ring. As she is tapping the center and asking for “home,” she can hear Gregg calling for her.

When Lucia doesn’t come back, Gregg starts to panic. Calling her name over and over turns into screaming her name. But then she does come back into the room: a disembodied, specter-like creature that is laughing maniacally. Taken aback, he tries frantically to understand what’s happening. “Lucia, Lucia, is that you? What happened?” he stammers. But she won’t speak to him. She points to a ring on her finger, and he can see through the ruby. He sees 2023. She just continues to laugh, and then Gregg’s hallucination starts to change. He watches a girl silently writhing on his bed, clearly in pain. He hears his own cachinnation now, coming from somewhere far away. He can feel this girl’s pain. God, it hurts. My chest, my arms. How do I make it stop? And that is the last thought Gregg ever had. His neighbors wondered how his condo blew sky high. The cops wondered who was there with Gregg that night because she could never be found. And Lucia, she also wondered how that night ended up. She thought the ring might disappear after she tied Gregg to the bed and sealed his fate. Time travel works in funny ways, I guess. I actually made it back home to 2023 safely, my mission accomplished. I can hear birds chirping, and I feel that breeze on my face. It smells like honeysuckle. There is a tug in Lucia’s brain, a zing. Something isn’t quite right. Something about honeysuckle.

Shocked into consciousness by a cold beer being tossed on her head, Lucia screams. She pulls frantically at her ties, trying to orient herself, as she hears Gregg’s booming voice right next to her head, “Lucia, honey, where did you go? I think you just dared to pass out on me.”