The Sand Dollar Motor Lodge sits on the outskirts of Stasheff, a dilapidated cluster of buildings in dire need of paint and repair. A rusted metal sign hangs crookedly out front, proudly advertising the fact that the rooms feature air-conditioning and color TV.
I'm sitting in Rachel's hand, staring at this place through the window of the GenetiTech limo, which I'm sure looks horribly out of place driving through the dusty parking lot. We pass by the swimming pool, which has long since been filled with dirt and now sports a tangle of grass and weeds.
This is the single, supervised visit with Suzy that Rachel promised me. But Rachel and her entourage showing up at Suzy's family's apartment was out of the question, and asking Suzy to come to the Daltons' house was a bit awkward, so Rachel selected this nasty fleabag motel as a neutral meeting location.
"It's discreet," Rachel tells me, as if reading my mind. "We're trying to limit your public exposure before the hearing. Besides," she adds with a cold smile, "it's the only motel in town that charges by the hour."
I nod, but say nothing. Rachel regards me with a cock of her head.
"Is something wrong, Ray?" she asks me. "I thought you'd be a little more excited about seeing your girlfriend."
I sigh. "Last Thursday, Debbie decided to play with me after Naomi told her no. And your snipers scared her into leaving me alone."
"Yes, I know," Rachel says. "We had them stationed for 24 hour shifts through the weekend. Now they're watching in random shifts of 4 hours. That ought to work as a deterrent."
I shrug. "I guess they weren't on last night, around 9:00?"
Rachel frowns. "What happened? Did Naomi do something to you?"
I nod. "She warned me not to tell you, but I don't have any choice. I really want that shit to stop, Rachel. I'm living up to my end of the bargain..."
"I'm sorry, Ray," she says in a flat, unflinching voice. "It'll stop. I promise."
I can only imagine how many roaches must be scurrying out of sight in this place. The air in the room is stale, but cool. The air-conditioner rattles noisily, ruffling the stained, orange curtains.
There's a double bed in the center of the room, with an obnoxious bedspread that sort of matches the curtains. A velvet painting hangs on the wall, featuring a small child with obnoxiously large eyes sitting on a donkey. I swear, the décor of this place actually makes my old garish dollhouse look tasteful and understated.
I'm standing on the simulated wood grain table, pacing back and forth. The table is bare except for a pitcher of ice water and a couple of empty glasses that still have the paper caps on them. Oh, and a nasty aluminum ashtray - empty but filthy - sits close to the edge.
Rachel is sitting in one of the chairs, watching me as I walk the distance from the ashtray to the pitcher, and back again. She says nothing, but simply stares at me, making no attempt to hide it. Eventually, the stress of her silent gaze becomes too much to bear and I talk just to break the tension.
"She thinks you're screwing my dad, you know?" I tell Rachel, watching her face for any trace of surprise or annoyance. Of course, there is none. "You told her to leave me alone, and she's afraid of you, so she takes it out on me."
"I'm not," Rachel says evenly. "There's no reason for me to be engaging in any kind of sexual relations with your father, and it would only serve to jeopardize the entire operation. And I assure you, I'm not attracted to him."
"Maybe you should tell her that," I say. "It might set her mind at ease." I ponder this a moment, then reconsider. "On second thought, fuck it. Let her suffer." This actually earns a tight smile from Rachel.
"I'll handle Naomi," she says. "I underestimated her once. I never make that mistake twice."
"What did you tell her?" I ask. "Last Wednesday, I mean. You told her something that kept her scared for almost a week. What was it?"
Rachel shrugs. "Sometimes, in my line of work, I'm required to uncover somebody's weakness and then use it against them. In your stepmother's case, it wasn't very hard. I told her we needed Paul a lot more than we needed her, and that I was more than willing to orchestrate a public divorce after the hearing and cut her out of the deal. And just to make sure that Paul maintained custody, we'd make sure that she was accused of doing something despicable. And then I reminded her about her affair, and told her she'd already laid the ground work for us."
"Oh," I say, a little disappointed. I'm not sure what I expected, but with the melodrama of snipers watching the house, I was hoping it was something a little more... exciting.
There's a timid knock at the door, and Rachel gets up to go answer it. She marches across the room in her short black skirt and stiletto heels, beautiful and menacing as ever. No matter how hard she tries to convince me that she's my friend, she still scares the hell out of me.
Rachel opens the door, and the bright sunlight spills into the room. Silhouetted against it, I see Suzy's unmistakable form. Last time I saw her, she was sitting on her bed, sobbing bitterly as Rachel took me away. And that memory is one that knots my stomach and nearly brings me to tears every time I think about it.
I watch anxiously, my heart racing. I want to look into those gorgeous green eyes and feel her fingers wrap so gently around me. I want to lie on her breast and feel her heart beat beneath me. I want to feel her lips against me, and her warm, sweet breath on my skin.
But mostly, I just want her to know that everything's going to be fine, because I can't bear the thought of her worrying about me.
She enters the room and as Rachel closes the door, the glare fades and Suzy's features come into view. She looks so scared, so miserable. Her eyes are brimming with tears. She chews her upper lip nervously as she approaches. I watch so desperately for that sexy smile that borders on being a smirk, but it doesn't come.
She stops and stands several feet away from the table, wringing her hands nervously as she looks at the floor. She can't even look at me, I realize with mounting horror.
"Suzy, what's wrong?" I ask, my voice trembling. "I swear, everything's going to be okay. You don't have to worry about..."
"Ray, I can't do this," she says in a dead, morose voice. "It was a mistake and we never should have..."
I'm suddenly dizzy, as if all the air has been yanked from my lungs. I blink and feel the warm tears running down my cheek. "Suzy, please just hold me..."
She takes a wavering breath. "Please don't make this harder. I..." A pained look crosses her face and she glances over her shoulder at Rachel, then back at the floor. "We can't be together, Ray. It's just not... it's not right."
My heart doesn't just break, it rips into a million pieces. I run to the edge of the table, as close to her as I can get. Her words buzz angrily in my head like a swarm of hornets. "God, Suzy... how can you... you told me that you loved me!"
She trembles and wipes at her eyes. "I know," she says. "I shouldn't have said that. It wasn't right."
"Yes it was! You know it was!" I'm shouting desperately, helplessly separated from her by a gap of three feet.
"Forgive me, Ray," she whispers. "Please, just forgive me. I had no right to do this to you." She turns and runs from me. Rachel opens the door for her, allowing her to leave.
"Suzy, please!" I scream after her, falling to my knees. "God, not you too! Please!"
The door closes, and she's gone.
It's bullshit. It's got to be. There's no way that really just happened. There's no way that everything that passed between me and Suzy meant nothing to her. But why would she say those things to me?
I stare over the edge of the table and for one crazy minute consider just leaping off of the edge. God, it hurts so much right now.
"I'm really sorry, Ray," Rachel says, walking towards me. And the weird part is, she really looks compassionate. It's so odd to see any trace of emotion on her face, and just the thought of Rachel's sympathy is enough to burst the dam. I collapse on the table and sob with terrifying ferocity, wondering if I'll ever be able to stop.
Rachel gently scoops me into her palm and strokes me with her fingers. After all these weeks of her cold, emotionless detachment, this surprising show of concern moves me beyond measure. I continue to cry bitterly and Rachel continues to comfort me with surprising tenderness.
The door opens, and the driver sticks his head in. "Everything okay in here, Ms. Foster?"
"Everything's fine, Oswald," Rachel says. "Just wait in the car. We'll be out in a bit."
Oswald grunts his affirmation and closes the door. Rachel turns her attention back to me. "It's okay," she whispers, still petting me softly. "Everything's going to be okay, Ray."
"Why would she say that?" I ask, gazing up into Rachel's beautiful face. "Why would she say those things to me?"
"I don't know," she tells me. "Maybe she's just a little confused. Maybe she just needs a little time."
"God, I feel so alone."
She shushes me and wipes the tears from my face with the tip of her finger. She smiles down sweetly at me like a benevolent goddess bestowing comfort. "You're not alone, Ray," she whispers. "You've got me. You'll always have me."
She's so sweet, so compassionate. And somewhere in the back of my mind, a warning flag is raised. I suddenly remember her words to me, not fifteen minutes ago. "Sometimes, in my line of work, I'm required to uncover somebody's weakness and then use it against them."
Suddenly, I'm clinging to a fervent hope. Suzy only said those things because, somehow, Rachel forced her to. Because Rachel wanted an excuse to comfort me and cement our bond. Because, for some reason, it is very important to Rachel that I trust her and think of her as a friend.
The tears slow, then stop as I glare up into her face. The smile hasn't changed, but now I can see it for what it truly is. Cynical, manipulative... devoid of real emotion.
"You bitch," I snarl at her, climbing to my feet and pointing. "How dare you?"
The sympathetic smile is gone in an instant, replaced by that cold, indifferent stare. "Looks like I underestimated you as well," Rachel says, her fingers closing around me. "I must be losing my touch."
"Why would you do that?" I ask her angrily. "What possible reason could you have for doing that to us?"
"I needed her out of the picture," Rachel says. "And that was the only way I could think to do it that wouldn't endanger our dynamic."
"Fuck our dynamic, you colossal bitch!" I shout at her, pounding on her thumb.
Rachel sighs and shakes her head. "Come now, Ray. Don't be like that. I assure you, my friendship isn't something you just want to throw away."
I glare into her impassionate face, blinking away the tears and wiping angrily at my eyes. "Why would you do this? Why?"
"She was in the way. I needed to find a way to get Suzy out of the picture without making you suspicious, and that seemed like the easiest path to take. I mean, it was either that or fake a car wreck."
I can't tell if that's supposed to be a joke or not. Rachel says it so matter-of-factly, as if she seriously considered it as an option.
"I need you on board, Ray," Rachel tells me. "And I can't have some little... romantic like Suzy distracting you from the tasks at hand. Besides, you'll eventually see it's for the best. I mean, do you really believe someone like you could have a lasting relationship with someone like her?"
I actually start trembling in her grasp, so overcome with anger that I can't seem to form the right words. I manner to sputter out, "You... colossal... bitch!"
Rachel sits down on the foot of the bed, and I hear the muffled thud of her kicking off her shoe. She smiles so coldly as she raises her leg, bringing her foot to rest on the edge of the bed. The dark nylon stretches weblike between her toes as she wiggles them slowly and seductively.
"God, no!" I shout at her. "What the hell is the matter with you?"
"I can take off the stocking if you like," she tells me, her tongue barely brushing along her upper lip. "I know you prefer bare feet."
"I said no!" I shout, punching her finger as hard as I can. My fist makes a soft thunk against the thick flesh of her index finger. It hurts my hand, but I doubt she even felt a thing.
She shrugs. "Have it your way. We'll keep the stocking on."
She undresses me and heartlessly toys with me for about fifteen minutes, rubbing my feverish flesh against the rough nylon of her sole, then along the underside of her toes. And up until the moment that I finally, reluctantly satisfy her with a sputtering orgasm, I'm haunted by the words she said earlier.
"Sometimes, in my line of work, I'm required to uncover somebody's weakness and then use it against them."
She wants me to say I forgive her, but this isn't about absolution. This, as always, is simply about power. And Rachel has once again demonstrated her ability to make an utter shambles of my life with minimal effort on her part.
"If it makes you feel better," she tells me as I lie in a gasping heap in her palm, "the only reason Suzy said those things was because I had a man stationed outside her apartment, ready to shoot her parents if she didn't cooperate."
I look at her wearily. "Why would that make me feel better?" I ask her, my voice croaking with exhaustion.
"I just thought you might like to know, that's all," Rachel says. "And if you keep your end of the bargain, I'll see what I can do about straightening things out between you and Suzy."
It's a lie, delivered with icy professionalism. I know she'll do no such thing, no matter how well I behave.
But it doesn't matter. I have no intention of keeping my end of the bargain anymore. If it lies within my power in any way to put a crimp in GenetiTech's plans, I'll find a way to do it. And somehow, in some way, Rachel is going to pay for fucking with me and Suzy like this.
When we get back to the Daltons' house, Rachel puts me in the aquarium and takes Naomi aside to have words with her. Once again, I have no idea what's being said. But Naomi's face grows pale and she actually starts crying. When Rachel is finished, Naomi nods dumbly.
Rachel leaves, and Naomi immediately comes over to the aquarium and glares down at me. "I told you not to say anything to that woman," she snarls.
I sigh and nod. "I know."
"She's not going to be able to protect you forever, little boy. And as soon as this hearing is over..."
"Yeah, I know."
She stamps her sandaled foot, and it makes a loud slapping sound. "Dammit, little boy! You are going to be sorry."
I look up at her, unable to even muster the tiniest bit of concern. "I know." She storms off angrily, and I remember with an almost wistful sense of nostalgia when Naomi was the biggest problem I had to worry about.
I lie down on my bed, painfully aware of just how alone I am. Poor Suzy is probably in her room right now, beating herself up for doing what she did to me. God, I long for her so badly it makes my entire body ache, and the more I torture myself with those thoughts, the more futile my future seems.
A future spent at the mercy of Dr. Taylor, Rachel Foster, and Naomi. A future separated from everyone I care about. A bleak, hopeless future. I lie on my back and sob helplessly in the dark, until finally, mercifully, sleep overtakes me.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce