Sherry's Story

Confession

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with the Sin City franchise and I’m not making any money from this. Unfortunately.

Author’s Note: A big thanks to all my readers and reviewers, especially shatzen83, my newest reviewer!

lll

After the massive hangover I had following my discovery of the unwanted baby I was carrying, I eased up on my drinking. Pregnant or not, I still had to go to school. And going to school day after day suffering from a hangover would not help me get good grades. Once Ben left for work at night, I would drink only a finger’s worth of alcohol, maybe two. Over the next few weeks, the level of booze in each bottle was getting lower and lower. It was now the middle of December. I couldn’t put it off any longer--I had to get some more now. Christmas was almost upon us and I knew that Ben would want to entertain his friends soon.

However, my clever plan hit a snag I hadn’t foreseen. In Louisiana, while the state laws recognized and accepted the validity for a marriage license of an out of state fifteen-year-old girl, did not allow that same girl to buy booze.

One day after Ben left for work, I took a bus to another part of town where I hoped no one would know me. The shop was empty. I had worn a pair of oversized sunglasses and a scarf. Even if someone saw me, they probably wouldn’t have recognized me.

“May I help you, ma’am?”

In my best grown up voice and demeanour, I told the clerk what I wanted. “Two bottles of Smirnoff vodka and one Beefeater gin, please. Oh, and I need some Cuban rum and Canadian Club as well.”

“May I see some identification?” he asked. The moment I looked in his eyes, I knew that he knew that I had no business being there. We stood there, silently staring at each other.

“Well?” the clerk asked.

I was too humiliated to go on. I turned around and walked out, my head held high. After I left the liquor store, I cursed my stupidity. At the racetrack, I was too young to drink, so why didn’t I remember that? Even though I was in high school, I didn’t have many friends and the ones I did have, didn’t have older brothers whom I could persuade to buy the booze for me.

Because of my single-minded determination to rid myself of the unwanted life I carried, the bottles that weren’t drained dry were filled with water and iced tea mix. Ben would discover the truth the minute he went to get a drink.

What the hell was I going to do???

There was a wrought iron bench on the sidewalk and I sank down onto it. Angrily I tore off the scarf and dark glasses, hurling them to the sidewalk, not caring about the stares I received from curious passersby. I put my face in my hands and started to cry. I was old enough to be married and carry a baby but I wasn’t old enough to buy a drink.

It wasn’t fair!

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It took over an hour to get back home. As soon as I entered my apartment, I was already dreading the twelve long, lonely hours that remained between now and when Ben would come home. The time we’d spend together was brief and hurried, because I had to leave for school but until then, I would be completely alone.

Alone except for the parasite I carried within me. Angry at my failed attempt to purchase alcohol, I hit myself with the heel of my hand. Over and over, I pounded at my belly until it hurt too much.

As soon as I stopped, the horror and enormity of what I had just done overwhelmed me and I sank to my knees, bawling. “My poor baby,” I moaned, resting my hand over my aching womb. I rocked back and forth, wishing I could take back the terrible thing I had just cruelly inflicted on what might be the only baby I would ever give birth to.

The guilt and grief eventually subsided but what my heart and soul needed now was forgiveness. Ben and I didn’t live in the best neighborhood, but it did have a church and the doors were always open. We had gone there regularly on Sundays when we first moved here, but as time passed we stopped going.

Father Matt Brady was open-minded about some things but even he would be angry with me. However, no matter what he thought of me or how hard my penance would be, I had to try.

I remembered that filthy alley in Sin City when overwhelming desperation and grief drove me to attempt my own life. And I didn’t want to do that; unlike that dark time, I now had two very good reasons to live—I was going to be a mother and I had the undying, unswerving love of my husband. For my baby’s sake as well as my own, I needed to get salvation and piece of mind.

I walked to the altar, lit a votive candle, and crossed myself. I couldn’t help but sob when I was done. I brought my hand to my mouth as I tried to prevent myself from losing control.

“Are you all right?”

I turned my head and saw an older matron at my side.

“I need to confess. Is Father Matt in?” I asked.

“No,” said the woman. “He left to give last rites to a shut-in at a nursing home. Is there anything I can do?”

I shook my head and turned away. Being in this holy place was comforting. I sat down in a pew, trying to get myself together as I considered my next course of action. I was certainly in no hurry to get back to my lonely, empty apartment.

“Sherry? Is that you?”

I raised my head and saw Rafe Montgomery standing near me. He wasn’t wearing riding clothes this time; he was dressed in a smart double-breasted navy business suit and the briefcase he was holding, although of very high quality, had definitely seen better days. He saw my scrutiny and grinned. “I can afford a lot better but I won’t replace it. It belonged to my father.” He saw my tears and was immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled. “No one can fix what’s wrong with me.”

“I heard you fainted at the racetrack. Are you all right?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Rafe’s mouth curled up in a smile but I saw that the smile did not reach his eyes. “Congratulations. I am happy for you. I thought girls your age had better things to do with their time than come to church…for example, talk on the phone for hours or shop for clothes. What brings you here on a Wednesday night? Christmas isn’t for another week.”

I was too depressed to lie. “I’ve done some things to myself and I need…forgiveness. I wanted to give confession but Father Brady isn’t here. Maybe that’s a good thing. What I’ve done is unforgivable.”

My companion’s face softened. “I’m not as good a Catholic as my mother raised me to be, but even I know that if someone is sincere in repenting their sins, God will listen. And forgive.”

“I know He won’t listen or forgive! I’m surprised He didn’t strike me dead when I crossed the threshold!”

“I’m sure what you’ve done isn’t that bad.” Rafe’s smiled faded when he saw that I meant every word. “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” I wanted to tell someone so badly about my awful secret but I couldn’t bring myself to open my mouth. Hot tears scalded my cheeks but before I could raise my hand to wipe them off, I felt the gentle touch of a handkerchief dabbing the wetness away.

“I may not be a priest, but I am good at keeping secrets. Confidentiality is a big part of my trade and I promise that what you tell me will remain between us. As long as it’s not illegal,” Rafe added with a questioning look.

I shook my head. “What I’ve done is not illegal, it’s immoral.”

“Please tell me,” Rafe said.

That simple request made the floodgates of my conscience burst wide open and I told him everything, omitting, of course, the involvement of Ben and me in Tom and Richard’s deaths. I squeezed my eyes shut and even told him about the drinking and hitting myself. When I was done, I dared to open my eyes and was surprised to see that Rafe looked at me with sympathy and understanding. He did not pass judgment nor did he condemn me. His acceptance and forgiving nature made me cry again.

“I’m sorry,” I blubbered, “I usually don’t blab so much to someone who is almost a complete stranger.”

“Stranger or not, it sounds to me like you’ve wanted to get that off your chest for a while,” Rafe said.

“I don’t have anyone else to confide in. Except my husband, but he knows all of it anyway. Except the part about the drinking, and….you know.” I rubbed my belly.

“It’s getting late,” my companion said, looking at his watch. “Would your husband mind if I drove you home? This neighborhood can be dangerous after dark and I’d rest easy tonight if I knew you got home safe.”

“Sure. I’d like that. If this part of the city is so dangerous, why are you here?”

“Despite the fact that I am a lawyer, I do honest work too. And no, that is not an oxymoron.” A dimple flashed in the corner of his mouth.

I blushed as I remembered our last encounter at the racetrack.

“Seriously though, I do a lot of pro bono work and my client lives in this area. Donating my services to the less fortunate is my way of giving something back to the community. Of course, I charge ridiculously high retainers to my more affluent clients, so it balances out.”

I knew that he was making a sincere effort to lighten my mood and I was grateful.

He continued. “Speaking of balancing out, it was a good thing you couldn’t buy any alcohol today because if you had, you wouldn’t have come here and we wouldn’t have run into each other. Come on, my car is outside and I’ll drive you home.”

It came as no surprise to me when I saw that Rafe’s car was an older model Jaguar. Richard had owned one and like his, this car was also in pristine condition. Were lawyers automatically given a Jag when they passed the bar? I sank into the deep leather seat and let my thoughts drift as the warm air from the heater filled the car.

It wasn’t long before we pulled up in front of my building.

“Think about what I said, Sherry. Tell your husband the truth. If he loves you half as much as I think he does, he’ll forgive you.”

I nodded reluctantly. What Rafe said was the same thing that my conscience was. But how would Ben take the news? He would have every right to be angry because I was trying to harm my unborn child; a child that might even be his, although I doubted it.

Thinking of my empty apartment made me sad and I got an idea. “Listen, why don’t you come up for an hour or so? Ben’s at work and won’t be home until tomorrow morning. I’d like the company…that is, if you don’t have anything planned?”

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Rafe said softly. He got out of the car, held the door open for me, and took my hand to help me out. “Goodnight, Sherry,” he said, his hand holding mine longer than was necessary. Before I could comment on it, he reluctantly released me, cleared his throat and looked away. He said nothing as he walked me to the door.

I murmured a goodbye and entered my apartment building. As I searched for my key, I stole a look over my shoulder and saw Rafe was still standing there, watching me. I waved and he did the same before walking back to his car and driving away.

I locked the door behind me and realized that Rafe did the right thing by refusing to come over. I was reminded of the consequences of the last time I was alone with another man in my apartment--I’d lost a baby because of it. A part of my heart died that day and it still hadn’t healed.

It didn’t hit me until that moment that I hadn’t told Rafe where I lived, or that I tried to buy booze. So, how did he know? I shook my head. I had more important things to worry about--telling Ben what I had done would be the hardest thing I ever had to do.

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The next morning, I called in sick to school. Then I waited for my husband to come through our door. His face lit up when he saw me and I hated myself. What I was going to tell him would wipe that smile from his face and replace it with anger and disgust. I steeled myself and confessed.

Ben took the bottle and held it up and his face fell when he saw how empty it was. “How long have you been drinking like this?”

“Since I found out about the baby.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. “You mean to tell me that you’ve managed to clean out our entire liquor cabinet in less than a month? Jesus Christ, Sherry!”

I was too ashamed and afraid to look at my husband as I confessed. I cringed and waited for Ben to strike me. Because, as God knew, I certainly deserved it for endangering the life of my innocent unborn baby.

“Babe, I ain’t gonna smack you, although I certainly want….Aw, never mind. Come over here.” Ben took my hand in his and led me to the sofa. “Please don’t drink anymore, Sherry. And don’t hit yourself no more, okay? For your own sake, if not for the baby’s. Don’t forget, you’re hurting yourself, too.” He put his hand over my womb. My belly was still sore and I flinched at his touch.

He looked so sad, I started to cry again. It seemed as if I couldn’t do anything but cry today. “I don’t know if I can do this, Ben!”

“Do what?”

“Carry this thing until it’s born!”

“It’s not a thing,” Ben said gently, “it’s a baby.”

“But I’m afraid!”

“I know you are. But you won’t have to go through this alone, I promise.”

“What if he turns out to be as evil as Richard? Then what the hell will we do?”

“With enough love, the two of us should be able rid Richard’s child of any bad things he might have inherited. Have faith, Sherry.”

“I hate Richard so much for what he did to me. For what he was going to do to me…”

Ben tilted my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “But in the good times, before he showed you his true colours, you loved him too.” It wasn’t a question. “How about this: we talk about him for as long as we need to and then we never mention him again.”

I nodded. It was a fair request.

“Richard was a friend and more when I needed one. There were many times when if I was upset about something but didn’t want to talk about it, he’d hold me, sometimes all night and never try to touch me. I’d cry on his shoulder, tell him what was bothering me. He’d listen and never judged me. He was a lot of things to me…father figure, friend, and lover. But after you and I got engaged, he changed.”

“Maybe he thought you loving me was a passing thing and you’d snap out of it or something. When that didn’t happen, he realized our love was for real.”

“Yeah. I think he finally understood that I loved another man and whatever plans he’d had for me and him were never going to take place.”

Ben frowned. “After we got married, he’d arrange all those poker games in his house, remember? When I’d had enough, he’d say, ‘C’mon, Ben, don’t rush off, stay for a while.’ Then when I wouldn’t, he’d laugh and tell Brown and Jones that the ball and chain—you—wouldn’t like it and that I had to report home or I wouldn’t get any sex. I knew he was provoking me, you know, trying to get my goat. Maybe he was hoping I’d take a swing at him and Jones and Brown would try to take me down.”

“He said you lost a lot of money during those games.”

Ben shrugged. “Yeah, I lost some, but I always made sure to quit before I got in too deep.”

It hurt to ask, but I had to know. “How did he seem after I lost the baby?”

Ben sighed and turned away. “Kinda glad. Not because you were hurting or nothin,’ but I’m sure he thought that you were going to leave me and he’d finally get his chance. Every day after you lost the baby, Rich’d say, ‘Why are you even bothering to go home? Sherry’s long gone. You killed her baby, why would she stay with a brute like you?’ or somethin’ like that. It was like a knife in my heart because I thought he was right. I hafta say that every time I came home, I’d stand in front of the door for a long time, wondering if you were going to be on the other side of it or if our place would be cold and empty, like he said. My heart would stop and when I opened the door and saw you were still there, it would start beating again. I’ve always wondered, though, why didn’t you leave me?”

I put my hand on my husband’s knee. “Because no matter what, I’ve always loved you.”

Ben’s reply was a howl of unbearable guilt and grief. “Our baby is dead because of what I did!”

“We’re both to blame, it wasn’t just you.” I didn’t say what was on both our minds: that baby could have been Richard’s; just like the one I was now carrying. I put Ben’s hand over my belly where a new life was slumbering and growing deep inside of me. “But we have another chance. Let’s make the most of it.”

“Amen to that,” Ben said quietly.

That night I had another nightmare….

I stood at the shoreline, shivering, as an icy March wind whipped across the beach, chilling my hands and face. My pregnancy was in its sixth month and my belly was sticking so far out in front of me, it looked like I was smuggling a basketball under my nightgown.

I wanted to find shelter and become warm again, but my feet seemed rooted to the damp, cold sand and I was unable to move. I was waiting for something, but what that something was, I had no clue.

As before, a horrible stench wafted through the air and my stomach turned. That smell. That awful smell of death and decay filled my nose and seeped into every pore of my body. My clothes and hair were saturated and I felt I would never be clean again, not even if I bathed in boiling bleach. Only this time, the reek was stronger and I knew the reason why--I was going to confront two dead men this time, not just one.

“Well, well, well,” Richard sneered. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure seeing you again.” The black suit he had been buried in was still intact but the exposed flesh of his head and hands were showing definite signs of putrefaction.

His eyes gleamed as he spotted my advanced pregnancy. He reached out and touched my belly. I flinched when I felt the baby move sharply inside. It was as if my baby knew it was in the presence of pure evil and was trying to avoid Richard’s touch. By the look on what remained of Richard’s face, he felt it the movements too. “Strong little tyke, isn’t he? That’s my boy, all right. Feel him kick! He knows who his daddy is.”

“It’s not yours!” I yelled, pushing his hand away.

“Oh? How do you know?”

“Because I love this baby and as I told you on the night I ended your miserable life, I could never love anything of yours!”

“And do you remember,” Richard shot back, “what my dying words were?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “You said Ben was a dead man.”

Richard’s corpse nodded in satisfaction. “That’s right. And he will be, although not in the way that I imagined when I said it.”

“Are you saying that Ben is going….going to die?”

“Precisely. Enjoy him you can, my dear, because you won’t be able to play the role of loving wife for very long.”

“When…how?” In my desperation to know more, I clutched Richard’s arm, feeling the chill of the dead, icy flesh through his clothes. “Please tell me!”

I knew that Richard loved me in the past…perhaps, those feelings were not completely dead—even if the rest of him was. I could see that he was wavering; he wanted to tell me; he just needed a little convincing. In my former life, a whore had to be an actress—pretending she was feeling one emotion, when in reality, she wanted quite the opposite. Many times, I had had to adopt an “I-can’t-wait-any-longer-to-be-fucked-by-your-massive-cock” attitude to arouse the john who hired me, even though what I really wanted to do was die from shame and revulsion.

I knew what I had to do to get the information I wanted.

I softened my expression and sidled up to the man I once loved. I put my hand on his chest, sliding my palms against the expensive fabric. “I saw what was in your cellar,” I cooed softly. “You made a special place for the two of us to be alone, cut off from the world.”

“Did you like it?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. You thought of everything: magazines, books, clothes…and a colour TV! You bought me only the best. Much better stuff than that brute I married ever will give me in a million years.” I knew Richard hated my husband and ridiculing Ben now would make the corpse in front of me see how much I missed getting the finer things in life. I continued on, my mind racing with ideas.

I playfully pushed at his shoulder. “You never left me anything in your will! I thought I meant something to you.” To add to the effect, I pouted as seductively as only a dissatisfied fifteen-year-old girl can in order to entice a middle-aged man into giving her what she wants with a promise of illicit sexual pleasures.

“I’m sorry. I meant to…I just never got around to changing my will. Sherry, you will always mean the world to me,” Richard murmured. I could tell by the look in what remained of his eyes that he was responding. Damn, I was good, I thought. But I had forgotten how astute he could be at times. Richard drew away and peered down at me. “Why should I believe you now? Give me one good reason.”

I dropped my coy act in a heartbeat. I had the best reason already ready at the tip of my tongue and not one word of it was a lie. “On our wedding night…he raped me! He forced himself into my mouth, ass, and cunt…It hurt so much, I wanted to die!” I sobbed, as genuine tears of the still-fresh betrayal filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.

“I know, my love,” Richard said quietly. “I know everything that bastard did to you. You suffered through so much. But you were so brave and so strong. I was proud of you.” He wiped my tears away and it took every fibre of my being not to pull away. He put his hand around my shoulder to comfort me and I shuddered when I felt his cold flesh touch my arm. The tears I shed proved the validity of my words. An additional bonus was that no matter how much he hated me towards the end of his life, Richard could never stand to see me cry.

“Tell me how he’s going to kick the bucket. Tell me everything so I can be there and laugh.” I was lying through my teeth and using every bit of acting skill I possessed in order to appear to be absolutely sincere. But I needed one final clincher to convince my companion. “He killed our baby, Richard! Why won’t you tell me how and when is Ben going to die?”

I had no idea if the child I had lost was Richard’s, and I gambled everything on the hope that even in death, Richard did not know who the father had been. If he thought that the baby had been his, then the desire to share any information he had about Ben’s demise would be irresistible.

Richard smiled and I knew I had won him over. He parted his rotting lips to spill the beans and as he did, Tom raised his fist and punched Richard hard in the mouth, making him stumble back. He tried to regain his footing in the wet sand but he couldn’t. He landed ass-first on the beach.

“I should have known better than to let you come with me,” Tom snarled down at Richard. “I knew once you’d get near her again, you’d let your dick do the thinking for you. And I was right.”

“Goddamn it, what the hell did you do that for?” Richard yelled. He turned his head and spat something wet and soft out onto the ground.

“You idiot, can’t you see what she’s doing? She’s playing you! She doesn’t love you, she never will. She’s just telling what you want to hear so she can get what she wants--which is information on how her beloved Ben dies. For an educated man, you can be fucking stupid sometimes. C’mon, our job here is done. We have to get back.”

I resisted the urge to ask where they were going; if there was any justice in the afterlife, their destination would be Hell. But I had to know more. I had to know when my beloved husband was going to die.

“Please! Please, you can’t leave me like this. When…how…?”

“…will my murderer die?” Tom finished, grinning evilly. He glanced at Richard who smirked back. “Should I tell her?”

“After what she just tried to pull with me? No way.”

I didn’t want to beg anything from these two, but this was the date and circumstance of Ben’s last moments of life they were talking about. If getting the information meant that I had to go on my knees and give a blowjob to each of the creatures in front of me, I would do it gladly.

I lifted my chin. “I’ve given both of you a lot of pleasure in the past. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Tom cocked his head as he pondered the question. “That’s certainly true, Sherry. I remember each and every time I came inside of you as my eyes rolled back in my head. I’m sure Richard could say the same and more so, because he’s fucked you a lot more than I have. Yes, that does count for something in my book. Look at the lake and tell me what you see.”

I squinted and looked over Tom’s shoulder. “I see that the ice is melting and the lake should be free of it soon. Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

Tom looked sad. “There is still ice on the lake but it’s very thin now and some kids can’t resist getting in one last skate while they still can. It’s unfortunate that children have a tendency to disobey their parents and the results can be very tragic. Two families in Basin City will soon learn that unfortunate lesson the hard way.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I yelled.

“I was your dad’s partner and I was married your mother, Sherry. I heard from both of them that you didn’t always listen to what they said. More often than not, you did exactly what they told you not to do.”

He was still talking in riddles! Because I was trying to make sense of his bullshit, I had been paying no attention to Richard during all of this and it wasn’t until Tom finished that I discovered that he had edged within arm’s reach of me. He grabbed my arm and yanked me around to face him.

“Give her one last kiss for the road,” Tom taunted. “Show her what you’re really made of.”

“With pleasure,” Richard growled lustily. He gave me a twisted smile and horrified, I realized what it was that he had spit onto the sand—because of Tom’s punch, Richard had bit his tongue and the worms inside of his tongue were wriggling out. Without warning, his putrid lips crashed down on mine, claiming me as his own, his swollen, maggot-infested tongue pushing its way deep into my mouth...

I woke up screaming and barely had time to lean over the side of the bed as nausea hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. My eyes watered as the painful heaves of my stomach didn’t end until the entire contents of my stomach were on the floor.