Glen Cove. Friday, April 13, 1990.
Brian's Jaguar rolled to a stop, no more than a hundred yards from the driveway of Dennis's house. A six-pack of Budweiser rested on the seat beside him. He opened his first can and took a huge gulp. By the time he was half way through his third can, he saw Kerri walking toward him in the distance. Her red spring coat and flowing blond hair convinced him he was minutes away from his date with destiny. He chugged as much beer as he he could, then started his car.
When Kerri turned from the sidewalk to the concrete path leading to Dennis's home he pushed the accelerator to the floor. Kerri froze when she heard the loud squealing of the car's tires against the pavement. She turned to see the black Jaguar racing onto the driveway. She darted toward the verandah, but Brian jumped from the car and caught her before she reached the wooden steps.
"Let me go!" she screamed, struggling frantically to break free of his bear-like hug. Terrifying thoughts raced through her brain. The glazed determination in Brian's eyes was a clear indication of his intentions. The smell of alcohol on his breath was even more ominous.
"I waited and waited for you to come home," Brian said, pulling her against his body. "You're my wife, Kerri. You belong with me."
"It's over, Brian," she said, desperately trying to think of a way to escape. "I told you I'm not coming home. Not ever."
"We belong together," he insisted, the slurring of his words a clear indication that he was intoxicated. "We promised to love each other until death do us part."
"Sure we did, and we also promised to forsake all others."
"Let's go inside," Brian said with a contorted smile. He dragged her up the stairs to the verandah.
"Think about what you're doing, Brian," Kerri warned. "Andrea will call the police as soon as she sees you."
"You and I know they've both gone for the weekend. It'll be just the two of us, and there won't be anyone to bother us. Now open the door like an obedient wife," he demanded.
Shocked that Brian knew she was alone, Kerri feared the worst. "I'm not going to open it," she said defiantly.
"Give me the key!" Brian ordered.
Kerri removed the key from her coat pocket, placed it in Brian's hand, then watched as he turned his body toward the door. The moment he turned to watch the insertion of the key, she bolted from the verandah, leaped down the seven stairs and ran across the the lawn. Her progress slowed as the soles of her leather loafers slipped on the dried grass.
Brian, dressed in jeans and sneakers, caught up with her and tackled her by grasping her shoulders and dragging her to the ground. He cupped his right hand over her mouth, pulled her to her feet and marched her back to the front door of the house. The more she struggled, the tighter he held her. He used his left hand to unlock and open the door, then he pulled her inside. He released her long enough to slam and lock the door. Kerri seized the opportunity to race to the den. She lifted the telephone receiver and began to dial nine-one-one. She heard a loud click before she could complete the dialing. Her heart sank when she looked up to see Brian dangling the telephone plug in front of her eyes.
"Don't try that again," he said with an evil smile. "Show me the kitchen. I could use a cold beer. All this exercise has made me thirsty."
Kerri realized it would be foolish and dangerous to run. She decided to cooperate and wait for an opportunity to escape. She led Brian to the kitchen.
Brian hurried to the refrigerator and removed a can of beer. "Show me where you live," he demanded, then snapped the aluminum lid and guzzled half of its contents. "Maybe there's enough room for both of us."
A loathing hatred gripped Kerri as she watched him wipe his lips with the sleeve of his brown leather jacket. She thought of how unattractive he had become. Gone were the tight physique and sharp features she once adored. The skin on his face had acquired a pale chalky hue, his cheeks and eyes puffy. He had gained a large amount of weight, most of it in the wrong places.
"What's the problem, sweetheart? I hope you're not too embarrassed to show me your little hole in the wall."
Kerri led Brian down the stairs and into her living quarters. He closed and locked the door, then marched directly to the night table beside her bed and jerked the telephone plug from the wall jack. "Any more of these in the house?" he asked, holding the broken wire in his hand.
"Upstairs, in the master bedroom," Kerri confessed, aware of the futility of lying.
Brian flashed a lecherous smirk. "Let's go. The bed up there has to be better than this one."
Kerri's heart throbbed in fear, as she fought to stave off tears. "You're making a big mistake, Brian. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're going to be in when you get caught?"
Tears appeared in Brian's eyes. His smile disappeared. He fell to his knees. "Then come home with me now. We can start over and you won't have to live here any more."
Kerri was astounded by the sudden shift in Brian's tone and attitude. No longer a demanding bully, he appeared to have transformed into a whimpering child. Seconds earlier, he was animalistic, totally unconcerned by the implications of his actions. She had to think. "I'll go home with you on one condition," she said, her heart pounding, her eyes fixed on his.
"Anything," Brian sobbed.
"You have to promise not to touch me until you're completely sober."
Relief and surprise lit up Brian's face. "I'll do anything for you, anything," he said, then watched as Kerri removed a small bag from her closet and filled it with clothing and toiletries.
"Okay, let's go," she said as she zippered the bag and forced a smile.
Brian's smile was replaced with a disappointed frown. "Why don't you take everything? Then you won't have to come back here."
Again Kerri had to think fast. "We can get the rest tomorrow. You should get to bed as soon as possible, and I think you should let me drive."
Brian obediently removed his keys from his jacket pocket and handed them to Kerri. He watched her as she unlocked the apartment door. She was about to open it when she felt the pain of a viselike grip on her left arm. Horrified, she turned to face Brian's evil smile. His blood-shot eyes seemed to penetrate her skin. She trembled in fear.
He jerked her toward him, close enough for her to smell his vile breath. "Thought you had me conned, didn't you? I guess you would've gone home with me. Hell, you might even have stayed until I was asleep. But then you and I both know what you would have done next. You just had to hang a string on it, didn't you? You had to make sex conditional on my sobriety. I told you the way I live my life is my business." He kissed her savagely, thrusting his foul tasting tongue deep into her mouth. When the kiss ended, he snapped his head back and glared at her. "Sex between a husband and wife should be completely unconditional. Now you and I are going upstairs for some unconditional sex."
Kerri closed her eyes and spit at Brian's face, relieving her mouth of the awful taste his tongue has deposited.
"That wasn't very lady like," Brian said, wiping the saliva from his face with his right hand, then using it to slap her face, hard. "We can get it on in the master bedroom or right here on your couch. Your choice."
In an effort to postpone the inevitable, Kerri led Brian to the master bedroom, an immaculately decorated and richly broadloomed area. The sun, now low on the horizon, shone on the outer surface of the translucent pink drapes, causing an erie glow in the room. The decoration focus was the king sized bed, covered with a quilted pale pink spread, and a pile of deep pink silk covered pillows.
"Very nice," Brian observed, then closed the door and approached the bed. He reached for the telephone cord behind the night table and removed the plug, then chuckled as he threw the phone to the floor. "Three phones and you're out! Time to recapture the rapture, sweetheart. Bring your sweet ass over here and let's get it on."
Kerri's time was up. She could think of no more options. Brian's relentless stare sent chills rippling down her spine. She froze, unable to speak or move in any direction. She closed her eyes in terror when she saw him approach her. He grasped her right arm and jerked her toward the bed.
"What you're doing is rape!" she screamed.
"Wrong, darling. It's consentual sex between husband and wife. There isn't a court in the land that would convict me. Now relax and enjoy it."
An explosion of anger and indignation erupted in Kerri when he threw her to the bed. "You bastard! The great Brian Pyper doesn't want anyone to interfere with his life, but he doesn't give a shit how much he interferes with mine. I let you go. You were free to drink yourself into oblivion and screw that stripper silly, but that wasn't enough. You had to have more."
"Sentimental crap!" Brian scoffed.
"It is like hell. Ever since you injured your knee, I've had to put up with a schizophrenic drunk who put his own needs ahead of mine. Then I tried to save his health and his career and he thanked me by wallowing in self pity, hitting me, lying to me, running away and cheating on the marriage."
Brian descended to the bed beside Kerri. He squinted and showed his teeth. The look reminding her of the one he had displayed each time he hit her. He reached behind her head and clutched her hair with his left hand. "I'm going to be in tears if I listen to any more of this bullshit," he said as he started to undo the buttons of her blouse with the fingers of his right hand. Next, he reached beneath her, unzipped her skirt, pulled it down and threw it to the floor.
Kerri struggled to free herself, but Brian restrained her with the strength of his arms and legs. "Damn you!" she shouted when he reached beneath her panties.