My Fall and Rise Ch. 12

The Pussy Discount

I have heard many people express the opinion that prison sentences are not punitive enough, that prisoners are coddled, that they have an easy time inside, enjoying their three hots and a cot. What they don't understand is that the real punishment of imprisonment takes place inside each prisoner's head.

I spend many sleepless hours lying In my bunk pondering one question more than any other. Why did I go back to Nicky?

When self pity dominated my mood, I would tell myself that I had to return to him, because I loved him. When I felt angry, I convinced myself that he had manipulated me. When I became cynical, I put it all down to the fact that I had run out of cocaine. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the reason I went back wasn't important. I went back and I have to own my share of the responsibly for what followed.

Nicky started texting me again on the third day after I left. I ignored him, and he started leaving messages on my phone. I texted him back and told him that I needed more time to think about things. That kept him at bay for a few more days, until he came up with a new tactic. We needed to get together and talk, he said, because we had "business matters" to discuss. When I heard that message I realized that, in fact, he was sitting on a pretty nice pile of cash, half of which was rightfully mine. I texted him and told him I would meet him the next day at a nearby diner.

I arrived first and ordered a cup of coffee. I had only take a few sips when Nicky walked in. He was still beautiful in his ragged jeans and his leather jacket. He smiled at me, and it was the same smile that had always touched my heart, but in his eyes, there was a sadness that I hadn't seen before.

He sat across from me. The waitress came over and he asked her for a soda and a plate of French fries. I sat silently and waited for him to speak. He gazed at me for a few moments, then, looking up at the ceiling, said "God, Mel, I miss you so much."

I tried to be hard. "I thought we were here to talk about business, Nicky. "

"Well, it's all one thing, babe. The business is us, right? You and me together. "

"Nicky, if we are going to be together, I've got to feel like we have a future together. I can't be one of those let's live for today people any more."

"I know, baby. That's why I'm working on getting us clear, so we have a nice nest egg. Maybe get a real house, you know, have a regular life together. Maybe..." His voice trailed off.

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe get in a program or something?"

He really surprised me with that. "Maybe that's a good idea, Nicky. Maybe you could start taking some roofing jobs again. I could go back to the Cheetah and see if I could dance again."

He grinned. "Man, I'd love to come watch you dance. Hey, if I pay for a private dance, will I get any extra services or anything?"

He could still make me laugh. The waitress brought the French fries and we sat in silence for a few minutes while we ate them.

"So how are we going to get this nest egg?" I asked when we had finished eating.

"Let's talk about that later, Mel." He reached across the table and took my hand. "Please, baby, just tell me that you'll come back to me."

I fought to keep the tears from my eyes, and after a moment's hesitation, I nodded. He raised my hand from the table and kissed it.

"I love you, Melissa, I'll love you until the day I die."

I believed him, and despite everything, I still do.

I went back to my mother's house and gathered a few things. She was at work, so I left her a note. I was relieved not to have to tell her to her face that I had made up with Nicky. I knew she was glad I had left him, although she had never said so.

The first thing I did when I got to the cabin was clean it up. The sink was overflowing with dishes and Nicky's dirty laundry was scattered everywhere. He hovered over me while I cleaned, hoping to steal a kiss or some greater intimacy, but I was deliberately holding him off. It was a small, but satisfying, means of punishing him.

There wasn't much food left in the cabin, but when I'd finished cleaning, I made us a supper of hot dogs and canned corn. After we ate, we went to bed and we fucked, but it just wasn't like it had been before. It seemed obligatory. Nicky seemed to feel that too, and decided that he could bring back the old excitement by fucking me in the ass. When I refused, he grew sulky, and our reunion night ended with us sleeping with our backs turned to each other on our opposite edges of the bed.

We were preparing for our delivery run the next day when I asked Nicky again about his plans to make a big score. He reached behind the couch and pulled out the duffel bag we carried the oxy in. He put it on the kitchen table and opened it. It contained twice as many bottles as we usually sold.

"Who is buying all that?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Whoever."

"What do you mean, whoever?"

"We have been lazy, we fuck around too much. We just have to get our shit together and hustle, and we can sell a lot more."

"Nicky, that's not a plan. How did you afford all that anyway?"

"Baby, we had a little over ten grand saved up."

"You bought ten thousand dollars worth of oxy from Nate?"

"Yeah, and when we sell it we'll have, like twenty grand. Think about it. We do that for just five weeks and we would have a hundred grand. Then we say fuck it and head to California or someplace."

"Honey, your math sucks."

"Well, whatever. But we sell more, we make more, right?"

"If we can sell more."

"Not going to be a problem," he said as we headed out to make the run.

But it was a problem. We could sell more, but not that much more. At every stop, Nicky would first try to convince our customers to buy more, and a few obliged, but most had just the cash they needed to make their buy. He would then press them to contact other people they knew who might be interested, and we did pick up a few sales that way. But it quickly became obvious that he did not have enough connections to sell anywhere near the weight we were trying to move.

We both became frustrated and agitated. Nicky started taking bumps of coke more frequently, but that only caused him to become more wired. Towards the end of the day, he lost his cool with a customer, started yelling at her, and lost the sale altogether. I suggested that we call it a day, but he wanted to press on. Our next drop was in a town about ten miles down the road. He insisted on completing that deal before we quit for the night. He got angry when I argued the point, and when we got to the town, he dropped me at a motel and went on to meet the customer alone.

I checked in and waited more than two hours before he returned. I had fallen asleep but woke at the sound of his entering the room. He went straight to the bathroom. I heard the water running and went to investigate. He was standing at the sink, washing blood from his face.

"Nicky, what happened?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing, we just sort of got in a fight."

"Let me see." I took the washcloth from him and dabbed dried blood from under his nose and a cut over his eye.

"Well, I guess we lost one more customer," he tried to sound light hearted about it, but there was a tear in his eye.

I held him and he put his head on my shoulder.

"I'm just tired, Mel," he cried, "I'm tired of all of it."

I led him out of the bathroom and we laid down together on the bed.

"We had a good run, Nicky. We made some money. Let's just go home. I can dance at the Cheetah or someplace else. You can find some work, We'll be fine."

We fell asleep in each other's arms. The next day, we made the rest of our usual drops, and headed for home. We had not done too badly, we had taken in more than sixteen thousand dollars, a nice profit. Nicky figured that he could sell the rest of the oxy to some of our regulars the next week, and we would be done.

Nicky called Nate a few days later to tell him he would not be buying anything from him anymore, and we discovered that getting out of the business was not going to be so simple.

I had gone into town to get groceries, and when I came back Nicky was pacing in the dooryard.

"What is it Nicky? Did you get ahold of Nate?"

"Yeah, I got hold of him." He kicked at a clump of dead goldenrod.

"Well, come inside and tell me. It's cold out here."

We went inside and sat at the table. Nicky immediately dipped a spoonful of coke and snorted it.

"So, I told him we were done, and he went ballistic. He said that we couldn't just quit on him, that he has a deal with his guy for how much he got every week, and if we bail, he will be short. And he said his guy is not somebody he wants to go short on."

"Did you tell him that we can't move that much weight here?"

"Yeah, he said we must not have tried hard enough. "

"And what did you say?"

"I told him to go fuck himself and hung up."

"Oh Jesus, Nicky."

"Fuck him, he's acting like we owe him. We paid for every fucking pill."

"Nicky, do you remember when Ernie didn't have the money for his usual buy and you got so mad at him?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "But this is different."

"No, honey, it's exactly the same."

He waved his hand at me and took another bump. He passed the coke to me and I took one as well.

"Don't worry about it," Nicky said, "He'll get over it."

A week later, Nicky made a trip into the city to buy more coke. The dealer told him that someone had been asking around town about us. A big guy, he said, wearing a red leather jacket.

Nicky came home in a panic.

"He's coming after us, Mel! What are we going to do?"

My first thought was that we ought to just run. We still had almost fifteen thousand dollars. We could hide out a while on that. But then I had another thought. Why don't we just try to pay him off and be done with it?

Nicky considered the idea. "So, we give him, what? Ten grand?"

I shrugged. "We'd still have five. That's more than most people we know have ever had."

"We can try. So, what, should I just call him?"

"I guess so."

Nicky called and got Nate's voicemail. He left a message in a casual tone, saying that he'd heard Nate was looking for him and that he'd be happy to meet with him. Nate called back just a few minutes later.

Nicky talked to him, and from what I could overhear, the conversation sounded surprisingly cordial. Nicky told him that he was sorry there was any misunderstanding, and they arranged to meet the next day at a pizzeria downtown.

Nicky ended the call and smiled. He thought everything would work out fine. He wasn't happy about giving Nate the biggest share of our cash, but he was relieved that Nate was willing to make a deal. I felt less assured, and was worried that Nicky was being too trusting. When he left for the meet up the next morning, I was a nervous wreck. The whole time he was gone, I sat staring out the window. It was a dreary, rainy day. I was scared, wondering if Nicky would come back, or if Nate would come looking for me, or if no one would come at all. And I was angry, sitting alone helplessly while two men sat in a pizza joint deciding my fate.

I was relieved to see Nicky's car pull in. My stomach turned over when I saw that Nate was in the passenger seat.

The two of them got out of the car and walked to the cabin. Nicky saw me watching through the window and gave me a little wave. He hugged me when he came in, and whispered, "It will be alright, babe."

Nate looked at me with that lascivious grin that I so strongly detested. "Hello, Melissa," he said, "it's good to see you again."

I responded with a joyless smile, saying nothing. Nicky reached under the bed for the suitcase that held our cash. He took it to the table and opened it. Nate stood across from him and watched as Nicky counted out ten thousand dollars. I stood off to the side, a few feet behind Nate, observing the transaction.

When the money was counted, Nate looked over his shoulder at me, then back at Nicky. He pointed to the chair on the opposite side of the table and said to Nicky, "You sit there, and keep your fucking mouth shut." Then he turned around, swung his arm and struck me in the face with the back of his hand.

I spun around, dazed, and fell face down on the couch. Before I could get my bearings, I felt hands on me. Nate roughly turned me over. I was half on the couch, my legs hanging over the side. He grabbed the waist of my jeans and began to pull. I slapped at him and tried to kick him, but he was to big for me to hold off.

"Nicky! Help me!" I screamed.

"Time for you to pay up too, bitch," Nate snarled. He slapped me hard across the face and I tasted blood in my mouth. I could hear Nicky's voice. He was yelling, but I could not make out what he was saying over my own screams.

I kept punching at Nate, but he didn't even notice my blows. He had my jeans down around my hips and Nicky's cries were getting louder when, suddenly, everything went dark and silent.

For a moment, I thought I was dead, that Nate had killed me. But I could feel a great weight pressing down upon me, and a sticky wetness, and I realized that it was Nate blocking my vision. I began to frantically squirm out from under him. His weight shifted and I was looking into his face. He was gasping for breath, but his eyes were unfocused. I finally managed the leverage to push him off of me. He slid to the floor and I could see Nicky behind him. He was crying and waving his arms in a frantic motion. His gun was in his hand. My ears were ringing and I realized that I had been temporarily deafened by the sound of a gunshot. As my hearing returned, I could make out the words Nicky was screaming.

"No pussy discount!" Over and over, he shouted, "No pussy discount!"

I stood up on shaky legs, and pulled up my jeans. I was covered in Nate's blood. Nicky had dropped to the floor. He was sitting there, his head in his hands, crying. I looked at Nate. The life was gone from his eyes.

"Nicky?" I said, crossing the room, "Are you okay?"

I sat down on the floor in front of him and put my hands on his knees. He looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. He kept repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." After a few minutes , he gained some control of himself, and tried to explain what had happened.

"Mel, he told me we had to be punished. He said he was going to kill us both unless I let him rape you. But I couldn't let him, I couldn't." He began to sob again. I tried to put my arms around him, but he held me back.

"It's all fucked, baby, I fucked up everything." I watched with numb incredulity as he raised the gun and pressed the muzzle against my forehead. "Let's do this, baby, okay? Let's just say fuck it to everything. Me and you together."

"Nicky, no," I moaned.

"But they will put us both in jail for the rest of our lives. We will never be together again. Let's just say fuck it."

I reached up and put my hand on the gun. He did not resist as I took it away from him. I stood up and went outside. I took a dozen steps towards the steep embankment that dropped into the woods and threw the gun, as hard as I could, into the trees. Later, my lawyer would make the claim that, in the moment, I could not understand the import of my action, but I understood. I knew that, by throwing the gun, I had made myself an accomplice to a homicide. I went to prison for throwing that gun, but Nicky and I both walked away from the cabin alive.

When I went back inside, Nicky had gotten off the floor and was sitting at the kitchen table, staring across the room at Nate's body. I went into the bathroom and stripped off my bloody clothes. I got in the shower and turned up the water as hot as I could bear. I stood under it until it ran cool.

Nicky was still staring at Nate's body when I came out. I went into the bedroom and put on some clean clothes. After I was dressed I sat down at the table next to Nicky.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "Clean up, I guess, take him out to the woods or something."

"Okay. We need some cleaning supplies," I said, "I'll go into town, get some bleach and towels and stuff." I reached across the table and took a few bills off the top of the stack. Nicky's cocaine vial was sitting on the table, and I slipped that in my pocket as well.

I stood up and Nicky rose beside me. He put his arm around me and laid his head on my shoulders. I held him for minute, then stepped away. I had to walk around Nate to get to the door, and as I did so, I looked down at him. He had tried to rape me and he might very well have killed me afterwards, but I still felt the urge to tell him I was sorry. I put on my jacket and stepped out of the cabin. Nicky followed me into the dooryard. I opened the car door and looked back at him. I could see that he was sobbing, but his tears disappeared into the rain.

I backed out of the driveway and drove down the muddy road to the main highway. I put on my blinker to turn right, towards town, but then, without any real thought, I turned left.

I drove for about twenty minutes with no plan as to where I was going. I saw a row of abandoned chicken barns ahead, so I pulled in and parked behind them, out of view of the road. As soon as I shut off the ignition I began trembling. It was beginning to get dark. I got in the back seat and laid down. I spent the night there, sleeping fitfully. At first light, I drove on further, until I came to a dirt road with a long row of mailboxes alongside it. I turned in, and went all the way to the end. All the houses appeared to be empty. Vacation homes. At the last house, I got the jack handle from the trunk of the car and used it to jimmy a cellar window. I slipped inside, then creeped up the stairs. There was a wood stove, and I started a fire. Once I had warmed up, I laid down on the couch and slept a few hours. When I awoke, I drove to the closest store and bought some groceries and a flashlight. I came back to the house and went down cellar, where I found the circuit box and the water main, and turned both on.

I wanted to call my mother, but my phone could not get service. I turned on the television and watched the evening news, but there was no mention of any murders. Without any knowledge of what was going on, I was gripped with fear. I did not know if the police were looking for me, but I assumed that they would be eventually. I didn't know if Nate had friends or associates who might seek revenge. And worst of all, I could not rule out the idea that Nicky might decide he would be better of if there was not a witness to what he had done.

On my third day of hiding out, I saw Nate's picture on the six o'clock news, with the word "missing" underneath. His hotel had called the police to tell them that they had a missing guest, whose car was still in their parking lot. At eleven, I tuned in to see my Facebook profile picture, alongside Nicky's, captioned, "couple sought for questioning".

We hadn't presented the police with much of a challenge. They ran Nate's name through their database, found that he had a long rap sheet, got a court order for his phone records, and discovered that there was only one person in the whole state who had called him within the past year. They had a search warrant for the cabin before the end of the day.

I learned later that Nicky had done a poor job of covering up the killing. He had been unable to wrestle Nate's body into the car, so he rolled it on to a bedsheet and dragged it into the woods. The police found it less than fifty yards from the cabin. He had made a half hearted attempt to clean up the blood from the floor, but had done nothing about what had soaked into the couch cushions. He didn't even dispose of the bloody clothes I had left in the bathroom.

On the fifth day, I saw the report that Nicky was in custody. He had been hiding in an abandoned trailer in the woods behind his brother's house. He had been right about one thing; as soon as the cops started questioning his brother, Wayne gave him up.