Bad Doctor

3

Willow’s fallen Asleep, so you can imagine how big her eyes get when she opens them and sees the gun in my hand.

“What the fuck?”

“Time to shower.”

She turns toward Cameron, who’s sitting on the bed, naked, crying softly.

“What happened?”

“He stole our money.”

Willow sees her open handbag on the bed. Her body tenses.

I thumb the hammer back, cocking the pistol.

“Don’t do it,” I say. “You’re the intruder here.”

I motion both women to get up and walk in front of me, into the bathroom. They do, and I turn on the shower and nod at Cameron. She gets in and stands in the center, under the running water. I tell Willow to remove her clothes, but she’s decided to take a stand.

“You’re not gonna shoot me,” she says. “Not in your own bathroom.”

I slap her face full force.

She shrieks.

I slap her again, and she puts her hand up in submission.

“Get your clothes off!” I yell.

When she’s naked, I motion her to join her friend.

If looks could kill, right?

But they can’t, so Willow steps into the shower.

It’s a glass shower with a glass door, and I’m standing three feet from them, with the door propped open behind my back. Willow tries to whisper something to Cameron and I say, “I could kill you both right now.”

They look at each other, sharing a brief moment of terror. Willow’s mouth and legs are trembling. All the defiance she had earlier has leaked out of her like drool from a dying grandparent.

And yet she’s resourceful.

“I need to pee,” she says, figuring to split them up, maybe buy some time to make a plan.

“A drain’s a drain,” I say. “Pee in the shower.”

I point to the facecloth on the shower bench. “Willow, bend over. Cameron, use the facecloth and soap her private area, hard. When you’re done, switch places.”

The women look at each other, and Willow says, “He’s going to kill us.”

Cameron says, “No. He’s just making us get rid of the evidence.”

“What evidence?” Willow says. “He used a condom.”

“Still. There could be DNA. Hair, whatever.”

“Cameron’s right,” I say. “Remove the evidence, and I’ll let you go. You ladies weren’t raped tonight, but I don’t want you claiming you were. Consider it a lesson learned.”

They soap each other down, then turn to look at me.

“Again,” I say. “Harder, deeper. Or I’ll do it myself.”