Past The Patch

Turning to Lomax she asked, “You hittin this, papi?” Mrs. Mears slapped Marisa’s face. Marisa pushed the woman back against the wall and used the knife to cut off a lock of red hair.

“I’ll take a bigger souvenir next time if you try doing that again, you stupid bitch.” She shoved the woman toward the table. “Sit fuckin down.” Mrs. Mears sat on Lomax’s other side.

He was wondering where the children were when an Asian woman spoke up. She was another one of the group who looked familiar. Hell, they all looked familiar.

“There are a lot of placemats here for just two people.” Mrs. Mears believed in placemats. They helped contain the inevitable mess created by the children.

Brenda turned the gun on Lomax. “Who else is in the house?”

“Brenda Creeley,” Lomax said. “I remember you now.” Patty started nibbling on a leftover piece of toast. “Put that down,” Brenda said.

“And you’re Patty Paulson,” Lomax said. Patty looked away.

“Mr. Lomax,” Liz said, “We wanted to talk to you about what you did to us in court. We wanted you to hear our side of—

“Elizabeth Nguyen,” Lomax said. “You gutted a man.” Liz looked hurt.

Lomax remembered that look as she was sentenced by the judge. He also remembered the coroner’s description of what she had done to her boss.

She hadn’t simply poked him with the letter opener to ward off his unwanted advances; and chances are that would have worked and she would have gotten off with an assault charge from the man, if any at all. No, she had sawed through layers of the man’s flesh, fat and muscle from the left side of his scrotum, all the way up to his navel. The coroner had testified that the man had bled out fast, but not fast enough to experience excruciating pain.

Brenda rocked back in her chair, raising it on two legs while she kept the gun on Lomax. She was a big woman and the sturdy wooden chair creaked under her weight.

“These are nice fucking chairs, lawyer-man. I bet they cost a shitload.”

She was wearing jeans, work boots, and a flannel shirt under a denim jacket. Her hair was cut very short. She stood and reached into a back pocket. “Good thing I got two of these.” She held up two pairs of handcuffs, tossing one to Marisa. “Cuff June Cleaver to her chair like I do with Ward here. Liz?” Liz stepped close and grimaced when Brenda handed her the gun. “Keep a bead on Lomax. If he tries anything, shoot him.”

“Hands behind your back,” Brenda said. There was a gap between the frame of the chair back and the backrest. When Lomax reached back she guided his arms through those gaps and then cuffed his wrists together.

Marisa watched this, and repeated the procedure with Mrs. Mears.

“This is your moment of truth, Elizabeth,” Lomax said. His tone was calm and clear. He could have been addressing a jury in one of his patented just between us folks moments. “You can turn that gun on Brenda and Marisa, or you can let them take you down a path that will be dark indeed, and—“

Brenda stepped in front of Lomax and drove a fist into his gut. “Shut up!”

Mrs. Mears cried out as if she had been hit. Lomax looked at her and smiled despite the pain. “I guess it’s a good thing I had a light breakfast after all,” he gasped.

“Gun,” Brenda said to Liz, holding out one hand.

Liz hesitated, just for a moment, and then gave the automatic to Brenda.

Brenda turned her own chair around and straddled it, facing Lomax.

She told Patty to check the other door.

“Now, tough guy. Who else is in the house?”

“What a sad creature you are,” Lomax said. He heard Mrs. Mears gasp. He wasn’t trying to be a tough guy. He’d taken two hits and both had hurt like hell. He didn’t want to be hit again, but he wanted the kids to have time to hide in the crazy warren of rooms and corridors down in the basement.

Brenda only laughed. “This is gonna to be fun.”

Patty had gone through the door opposite the door they had come in, and now she was back. “There’s cartoons on the TV. And games and stuff in that room.”

“And there are a lot of dishes and cutlery drying in the dish rack.” Liz said.

“What,” Brenda said, “Are you two making like ma and pa Walton?” Lomax simply stared at her.

Marisa reached around Mrs. Mears from behind and squeezed both of the older woman’s breasts this time. “These are nice, considering how old this bitch is. Ain’t no way a buncha babies been sucking on these. I bet Mr.

Lomax been titty-fucking them though.”

Brenda glanced at Marisa, clearly annoyed. “Why don’t you let go of her?” Marisa did as told. Brenda laughed again. “I can’t picture Ward here banging away at June, I really can’t, but I guess anything is possible.” Marisa looked at Lomax with loathing. “No way I’d let that cock inside me. Hey, mami, do you let him fuck those titties or do you just lie back and take it for—“

“The children are adopted,” Mrs. Mears said. She was flustered and embarrassed and angry.

“Sarah,” Lomax said softly, “Don’t say any more.”

Brenda pointed the gun at the ceiling. “Liz, Marisa, check upstairs.

Find those kids. Patty, take a look outside, and if there’s a basement check that.”

When they were gone Brenda sat silently for a while, then she chuckled. “Lomax. Strutting through the courtroom, swinging those big fucking balls around and twisting every jury to think just like you. You and your teams of little secretaries or paralegals or whatever they were. Were you banging them, Lomax? You always had pretty ones with you taking notes and carrying your cases of files. I bet you did. I bet you made them blow you.”

He had done just that, but Lomax considered that his old life, something he was trying to make up for.

Brenda got up and got a glass of water. When she sat down again, she brought edge of the gun butt down on Lomax’s left knee. He wasn’t expecting it, and he let out a yell.

She laughed her raw, throaty laugh. “Hurts, huh?”

Lomax said nothing. He wanted to tell her she was just a raw-boned ugly dyke with no brains, thinning hair and eyes that looked like the lids had been peeled off, cold, ignorant reptile eyes. But he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want her going off on Mrs. Mears.

Mrs. Mears asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Sarah,” Lomax said. “Be quiet.”

Mrs. Mears cocked a defiant eyebrow at him.

Brenda looked at Lomax a moment and then punched him in the gut again, putting her considerable weight and muscle behind the blow. “She’s got a right to speak. Every woman has a right to speak. Guys like you don’t want a woman to speak. Guys like you just want to fill a woman’s mouth with cock.”

Lomax couldn’t say anything. One more hit like that and he was going to puke.

Brenda got up and stepped close to Mrs. Mears. “Why am I doing this? Because that fucker Lomax has to be taught a lesson. And because I can.” She touched Mrs. Mears braid, looking at the colors within those red and gold strands. “Figures that even out here in the middle of fuck all Lomax would find himself a babe.” Brenda cupped Mrs. Mears’ cheek, and then bent quickly, kissing her on the lips.

“You dis gust ing woman,” Mrs. Mears said, as she turned her face away.

Brenda’s face colored, becoming a dull red, like sun-bleached brick.

She jammed a hand up under Mrs. Mears skirt. “If I wanna—“

“What the fuck is this?”

Brenda turned and saw Marisa standing by the door to the hall. She shrugged. “Just playing around, mi nina.”

Marisa came into the kitchen, followed by Liz. “We didn’t see any kids upstairs,” Liz said.

Patty appeared a moment later. “Brenda, I checked outside like you asked, but the basement . . . It’s crazy