Play Dead

“Never. Say it again.”

He put down the towel and began to caress her body. “You’re beautiful.”

A knock at the door interrupted their foreplay. “Talk about timing,” she said. She picked up the towel and tied it around her.

“Who is it?” Stan asked.

“Room service. A little champagne on the house.”

Stan smiled. “Stay here, my little dove. And don’t you dare put on one shred of clothing.”

Gloria giggled.

“I’m coming,” Stan said as he headed for the door. He turned the knob. Without warning, the door flew backward. The wood smacked Stan’s forehead, knocking him to the floor.

The B Man and his gorilla/henchman stepped in and quickly closed the door behind them. Gloria gasped.

The blond man smiled down at Stan. “Isn’t this nice?” the B Man began. “A nice quiet weekend in the country. Isn’t this just wonderful, Bart?”

“Wonderful, B Man,” the gorilla agreed.

Stan struggled to his feet. “What do you want?”

The B Man ignored his question, circling instead toward the other side of the room, where Gloria stood trembling. “Who is this lovely lady?”

“Just leave her alone,” Stan said sternly. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”

“True enough,” the B Man replied, turning back toward Stan. Gloria remained huddled by the wall, noticing that the ugly giant had not yet taken his eyes off her. She had seen that leer before and she suddenly felt very exposed in just a towel.

“Do you have the money?” the B Man asked.

“I told you,” Stan replied, “I’ll have it for you in a week.”

“Not good enough.” The B Man turned his attention back to Gloria, who still crouched against the corner, looking at Bart with frightened eyes. “Did Stan tell you how he hurt his finger, lovely lady?”

“I said leave her out of this.”

Again B Man ignored Stan. “You see, lovely lady, Stan has not lived up to his obligations, his responsibilities. I found this most troubling. He left me no choice but to bend his middle finger back until it cracked in half. It was a most unpleasant noise.”

The blood drained from Gloria’s face.

“Enough, B Man,” Stan shouted.

“But do not worry, lovely lady,” B Man continued. “A broken finger is paradise compared to what I have in store for him now.” He signaled to his gorilla, who was still staring at Gloria. The gorilla snapped out of his trance and began to walk toward Stan.

“Wait a second,” Stan said. “Just let her get out of here. I don’t want her involved in any of this.”

“I’m sorry, Stan,” the B Man said with a slow shake of his head, “but it’s too late. Bart here has a crush on your lady friend.”

Bart leered at Gloria, spit forming in the corners of his lips.

Stan stepped forward, blocking Bart’s path. “Do what you want with me, B Man, but leave her alone.”

B Man looked at him, surprised. “This is a switch, Stan. Since when do you care about somebody else?”

“None of your business. Just let her leave.”

B Man smiled. “I’m curious, Stan. Suppose I promise to wipe away your debt if you let Bart have his way with your friend here? How would that sound?”

Stan stood firm. “Go to hell.”

“My, my, we really seem to be smitten. I admire that, Stan. I really do.” The B Man smiled at Gloria—a smile that chilled her skin like cold gusts of wind. “But alas, Bart is a faithful employee. And he asks so little of me, dear child. I would feel disloyal if I denied him this one small pleasure. You understand.”

The B Man nodded toward Bart. The big man smiled at his helpless prey. Then Bart cocked his fist and slammed it into Stan’s stomach. Stan collapsed on the ground.

Bart moved around the fallen man toward Gloria. He quickly cornered her, returning her look of mercy with one of pure lust. He licked his lips and reached out toward her towel.

“No!” she cried.

Bart’s rough hands were no more than two inches away from her towel when he was tackled from behind. Stan had recovered. He attacked Bart with a fury. But Bart quickly flung Stan off him. Stan’s determination was no match for a man of Bart’s size. Still, Stan kept fighting. He bravely grappled with the much larger man, fighting to save Gloria from his savage assault.

Then the B Man stepped in.

One man double his size would probably have been too much for Stan to handle. And now a second man had entered the ring. The B Man quickly delivered a blow to the back of Stan’s neck. Stan dropped to the floor.

“Run, Gloria!” Stan managed. “Get out of here!”

Gloria tried to listen but her legs would not respond. She was frozen with fright as the two men began to kick Stan in the stomach.

Bart’s face was red with rage. “I’m going to kill the son of a bitch!”

The two men continued their onslaught without pause. Their blows did not stop coming. Each kick and punch seemed to be well placed and not rushed. Grunts forced their way passed Stan’s lips. Gloria could also see blood trickling out of his mouth. His eyes rolled back and then closed.

“Stop!” she shouted. “Leave him alone!”

B Man and Bart hesitated for a moment and looked up. Stan was not moving.

“Pl-please,” she begged, “I’ll give you anything you want. Just leave him alone.”

The B Man moved toward her. “Sweetheart, he owes a hundred grand.”

“I’ll write you a check. Just please don’t hurt him anymore.”

The B Man thought a moment. “You want to help him?”

She nodded. Stan had risked his life for her. Sure, he had a problem. He had admitted it to her, had asked for her help. Once she paid off these criminals, she could help him heal in much the way Laura had helped her. “Please. Don’t hurt him anymore.”

The B Man shrugged. “Leave him alone, Bart. Wait for me downstairs.”

“But, B Man—”

“Go.”

Reluctantly, Bart left the room.

“My . . . my purse is in the bathroom,” Gloria stammered. “I’ll be right back.”

When she had gone into the other room, when she was completely out of sight, Stan raised his head toward the B Man. Stan took the remains of the blood capsule out of his mouth and put it in his pocket.

“Thank Roadhouse for me,” Stan whispered.