Where the Sun Sets (21 page)

Anthony came to stand in front of Josephine.
She lifted her right hand to Josephine, and coaxed her down from
the chair. “Joe, say something for crying out loud. I didn’t just
fly half way round the world to...”

Josephine wrapped her arms around her friend.
“God, I missed you, Anthony. I didn’t know how much. I just...”
Josephine held on tight for a moment more before regaining her
composure. “Damn...” She stated, rather embarrassed. Pushing
herself back, she wiped the tears from her face. Taking one last
long look at Anthony she added, “I want to go home, OK? Let’s go
home.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow as she watched
Josephine start to push her way through the crowd. Billy turned to
question her with his eyes. Anthony just shrugged her shoulders and
tossed her hands up to signal her own confusion. Together they
hurried their steps pushing through the crowd after Josephine.

As they left the airport, people were calling
for Josephine. Autograph seekers and trash mag reporters. Billy
went to work right away, allowing the two women to walk by, with
speed, untouched. No words were spoken again by the group until
they had arrived back at the estate. Getting out of the car first
was Josephine. During the drive home her emotions were in turmoil.
Anger had taken over. By the time they had arrived, Josephine had
grown so angry with Anthony that she needed to get away from her.
Angry because of the way she made her feel. Angry with the way she
looked. Angry at her assuming responsibility for the hiring of a
bodyguard. Billy and Anthony followed behind.

“Is she always this moody?” Billy was ready
to bale. Anthony wrapped her arm around his as she watched
Josephine.

“She’s been through a lot Billy. Give her
time, she’ll grow on you. It’s tough being Josephine Ferrero.”

Josephine had difficulty opening the front
door. Her eyes once again were full and over flowing.

“It will be OK, Billy. Come on, I’ll protect
you.” Anthony’s smile comforted Billy as the two entered behind
Josephine. Josephine headed directly up the stairs to her room and
closed the door.

“Ms. Dal Santo, how wonderful to finally meet
you. I have read so much about you and your work. And…”

“Billy ma’am, the names Billy.”

“Well Billy, nice to meet you also. Please
come in and make yourself comfortable.” Chloe motioned for the
great room. Anthony had her hand on the stair rail, looking up
towards Josephine’s door. “Leave her for now, Miss. It’s best to
let her be when she is...come, how about something to eat? You are
as thin as a shoe horn.”

Josephine closed the door behind her and let
her back slide down its frame until she was sitting on her
haunches. She cried like a baby until well after dark. By then her
eyes were so swollen she could not bring herself to see Anthony
until the next day. And then, afraid of her own feelings, Josephine
all but avoided Anthony for a week more.

“Josephine? Josephine, you awake?” Billy was
kneeling in front of her. “We found Chloe. She was in the guest
bedroom, the closet.” Josephine dropped her face into her hands and
wiped away the memory. Dragging her fingers through her hair as she
pulled it away from her face, she gave Billy her full attention.
“You can’t stay here Ms. Ferrero. It’s just no longer an option.
I’m sorry. He must have been in the house the whole time. He must
have seen the video and taken it with him. I don’t know how...”

Josephine put up her hand to stop him. “It
doesn’t really matter does it Billy? How he got inside, why he got
inside. He got inside, killed Chloe. He did, didn’t he? Chloe’s
dead?” Billy dropped his eyes to his feet. Something about
Josephine was different. Something in her eye’s had changed. Billy
was sure it wasn’t just one of her many mood swings. Whatever it
was it had strength. Leaving him feeling he wasn’t quite adequate.
“And he took the tape with him.” She shook her head in amazement.
“It’s done and over with. What matters now...” She let her gaze
sweep over her property before returning it to Billy. “What matters
now is what he is going to do next. Where is he going and...and
getting there before he does.”

“Josephine, we...”

“Anthony is all that is real in my life. You
know? Without her I am just an actress. Just role-playing. Can you
understand?” This time she shook her head to answer her own
question as she let her gaze look out beyond Billy. Beyond her
property. “I need to see Anthony. Please take me to see Anthony,
now Billy, can you take me, please? I don’t think I can drive.”

“Sure, I’ll take you. But first let’s get you
some things and a place to stay for a few days.”

Chapter 23

A quick shower and a light dinner helped to
clear his mind. By this time tomorrow, he had convinced himself,
Antonia would be his and his alone. However he did not trust his
lustful nature and feared that someone else may get in his way. He
did not want another minute maid. He wanted Antonia. Before he
dealt with Josephine, he would have to satisfy his desire for
Antonia. And the only one who could do that would be Antonia
herself. Checking his appearance in the diner’s lobby mirror, he
smiled, as his anticipation grew. Although he had finished eating,
he was hungrier now than he was when he had entered. There was
quickness to his step as he headed back to Antonia. He was as
excited as a school boy.

Harold was escorted to a window seat. The
waitress handed him a menu as he removed his coat. Sitting with his
back to the entrance, Harold never saw the man walk out.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Antonia heard voices outside the door to her
room. She could not understand what was being said but thought she
recognized the tone of one voice. She could not be sure. It seemed
to her a déjà-vu of sorts. Perhaps, she thought to herself, perhaps
it was just an affect from the medication. The door to her room
cracked open. Her body tensed with anticipation and dread. She
could feel the hairs on her arms all come to attention. Her breath
involuntarily refused to exit her lungs. When the door was closed,
once again, Antonia knew she wasn’t alone. There was an odor in the
room now. A stench from the past.

He came to the side of her bed and stood
silent as he gazed down on her. His left hand carefully touched the
inside of her right arm. His fingers slowly brushing the flesh
until the back of his hand came into contact with her right breast.
His hand froze in place. Antonia’s stomach was constricting.
‘Please, don’t let me vomit.’ she prayed to herself. He seemed to
notice her tense. He slid his left hand up over her right breast
and across her chest, down the inside of her left arm, where it
came to rest on her wrist. He was gentle with the intravenous
needle taped to her hand. He did not want to hurt her. He brought
his face down to hers and inhaled. He let his face circle her head
and shoulders. He was trying to fill his lungs with her scent. He
looked at her face. He brought his ear in closer trying to listen
to her breathing.

Antonia was still holding her breath. She
could not help herself. She had lost all control. All the work she
had put into becoming who she was, all lost. Everything she strived
for her whole life had faded. Her confidence, her strength,
herself, all gone. She was as a small child, a child the age of
seven. Her life had reversed itself so fast she was dizzy. She was
scared. He felt her fear. He felt it and it made him stronger, more
confident. He took it from her and used it without hesitation.

He brought his mouth up close to hers and
called her name, exhaling softly. “Antonia...my sweet Antonia...”
He brought his mouth down her neck, letting his warm, wanting
breath linger on her flesh. “Antonia, I know you can hear me.” He
continued as his mouth reached the center of her chest. He could
feel her pulse quicken as he tightened his grip on her wrist. He
placed his mouth over her right nipple. He let his breath caress it
and it responded. “Antonia, look at me.” He placed his mouth on her
nipple and gently brought his teeth in to graze her. “Antonia, I
said look at me.”

Silently she prayed to herself, ‘God, please
take me before he does, please.’ He bit down on her and then
returned his face to hers.

Again, “Antonia, I never meant to shoot you.”
Antonia’s mind raced back to the party. The image at the fence. The
man with the gun. “I know about you and that actress. I have kept
track, you see. When you left the country, I thought my life had
ended. I had almost given up hope of ever being with you again.” He
was speaking softly, almost in a whisper. His stagnant breath was
overpowering. Antonia needed to breathe, she wanted so much to turn
her head and gasp for air. But she remembered a time in the past,
when she turned her head. She was so very frightened.

‘Please God, take me now...please.’

“You see, I knew she would call you back. And
I knew that when she did, you would drop everything and come
running to her. What happened to you, Antonia? Was there no man out
there who could compare to me?” He bent and licked her cheek.
“Antonia,” he said, as he stood up straight and brought his left
hand back across her stomach. He gently grabbed the top sheet which
covered her. Slowly, walking to the back of the bed, he pulled the
sheet with him. Antonia felt the chill of the room touch her. He
came to the head of her bed once again, now on the left side.
“Antonia,” His voice had taken on a commanding tone, “Antonia, open
your eyes and look at me.” He grabbed both of her shoulders with
his two hands and squeezed. “Now.”

Antonia’s eyes opened obediently. What she
saw she was all too familiar with. It was the face from her
nightmares. The face from her past. The face of evil and pain. “Did
you miss me?” He asked. “Why did you have to get in the way? It
wasn’t supposed to be this way, you know.” His hands began to untie
Antonia’s gown. First the shoulder came undone and he drew in his
breath as he let the back of his fingers graze her skin. Next, the
center tie. He folded down her gown so that her left breast was
exposed. He brought his mouth down to taste it. “Oh, my,” the words
just came from him as he tried to catch his breath. He helped
himself to every whore he could find since being released three
years ago, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.
This moment was thirty years in coming. He could not wait much
longer. He forced himself to regain control, as he undid the final
tie. He tossed open her gown completely and looked longingly at her
body. Aside from the wound on the right side of her abdomen, she
was flawless. He wanted her badly.

He looked up to her face. She was staring up
at the ceiling, causing him to become angry at her lack of
attention. That anger was all he needed to regain his composure.
She was beautiful, but no woman was so beautiful they could ignore
him. “How does your girlfriend like it?” He asked her. He brought
his mouth to hers. He tried to get inside her mouth, but she
refused him access. “Oh, OK, I see how you want to play this. All
these years, you would think you would be happy to see me. But no,
not my woman, she thinks she’s got it better up there on the hill.”
He started to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, I think she needs a little lesson on
respect.” His pants fell to the floor. “I think she needs to be
reminded, just how good her man can make her feel.” His jockeys
followed. A single tear fell down Antonia’s face as he climbed onto
the bed. He straddled her and stared for a moment. “Look at me you
little cunt!” He dropped his hands down to either side of her
shoulders and let his body hang above hers.

She looked into his eyes and felt every
muscle in her body tense. Her back felt as if it was on fire. Her
shoulder was flaring. “You belong to me little one. You’re all
mine. Didja think I forgot you were so disrespectful? Forgot you
made me look bad in your mama’s eyes? It was your fault, you know.
I had to...” He looked at her face. “Antonia, my sweet Antonia.” He
said gently as he caressed her right cheek, while balancing himself
on one arm. Antonia still could not bring herself to open her
mouth.

He looked at her, with both a mixture of hurt
and anger. He raised his left hand, as if to hit her. He held it in
the air and made a fist. Antonia remembered, she remembered a
similar fist, smashing her mother’s face. ‘Oh, God, no, please.’
Antonia’s face could not hide her fear. He looked at her and became
overwhelmed with desire. He looked at his fist, held in the air and
started to cry. “Why? Why, Antonia? Why?” He brought his fist in,
slowly towards himself. He looked at it as he chewed on his lower
lip. “I can’t allow this, you know that don’t you Antonia?” He was
almost whining. He brought his fist to his mouth and bit down on
it.

Still balancing on his right hand, he used
his left knee to force open Antonia’s legs. He then used the fisted
hand to grab Antonia’s throat. Antonia tried to prepare herself for
what she was certain was about to happen. He placed his right knee
inside Antonia’s open thighs, securing their width. “Now you will
kiss me.” He worked his hand up from her throat to her jaw and
forcefully kissed her. Still she did not open her mouth.
Unknowingly, she had been clenching her teeth since his arrival.
She could not stop now, she had no control. She knew she would pay
dearly this time as she saw his temper enter his eyes.

Without taking his eyes off hers, he brought
his right hand down, between his legs. He grabbed hold of himself
in an effort to stop his own release. His breath started to come in
short bursts, as if he had been running. Sweat formed on his far
head and rolled down his face, dripping onto Antonia’s bare chest.
His face contorted at different angles. He stiffened his shoulders
and spine. And then, still his eyes locked on hers, he forcefully
and deliberately thrust the two center fingers of his right hand
inside of her.