The audience gasped and I heard several people yelling, “Boo!” toward the back of the room. Weaver’s hand squeezed tighter. She’d seen the pictures of our family as well.
The video continued unmercifully. I couldn’t breathe. The look of abject terror on Mason’s face was so obvious. I recognized the outfit he was wearing. This was the night the twins had been hurt. This was whatreallyhappened at the community center.
I saw the anger and fear in his face, but the courage, too. A part of me was sick at the thought of what had happened, and angry that he hadn’t told me.
“No!” Mason screamed, lunging across the desk at Dowling. “I’ll do what you want! Don’t hurt them!” Mason’s voice sounded so broken, tears were falling from my eyes before I even realized I was crying along with him.
“You seem to be forgetting thatyouaren’t in charge here, youfucking whore,” Dowling yelled. He picked up the desk phone and dialed a number, when someone answered he looked at Mason and said, “Just to show I mean business… Gavin? Do it.” He said to the person on the other end of the phone then hung up.
I heard a muffled, “Oh my god,” from the direction of Bill and his friends.
Mason’s anguished cry from the screen dragged my eyes back to the stage, and the agony in them on the video ripped me apart.
My eyes sought his as he stood on stage, but they were shut, his face calm, a few silent tears streaking down his face. He seemed almost… peaceful… as the horrific video played, but I could see the hand holding the microphone was shaking slightly. The video continued relentlessly.
“No!” Mason screamed on screen. “I’ll do what you want! Don’t hurt them!” I watched as Mason lunged for the phone in Dowling’s hand, missing it and ending up with a handful of Dowling’s shirt instead.
I saw a man behind him, a man I recognized immediately as Bill Conyers, grab Mason and pull him back into a chair. That son of a bitch.
“Siddown, fucker,” Conyers yelled, pinning Mason to the chair with his arms.
“See, it’s outbursts like this that make me certain a little demonstration of my power over youisso necessary,” Dowling said, shaking his head and sighing at Mason.
“Someone on that screen is having an ‘accident’, right now, Mason and it’s All. Your. Fault.”
I could see the moment Mason broke, the moment when despair took over. All because he knew he couldn’t protect me and my family. Dear god.
“Aww, he’s crying like a little bitch,” Conyers laughed, his voice scathing as it echoed through the silent auditorium. You could have heard a pin drop.
“From what I remember, fucking him is evenbetterthan fucking a bitch.” Dowling’s eyes gleamed as he leaned forward, his mouth toMason’s ear, “…and I’ve fucked alotof bitches in my time... Bill, you said you wanted to try out a piece of ass. His is about the best you’ll ever get a chance at. What do you think, Mason? Should I make youmybitch again?” Dowling asked, as he came around the desk and stood in front of Mason.
He gestured to Conyers, who wrestled Mason out of the chair and slammed him forward onto the desk. Dowling’s laugh echoed evilly through the hall as the relentless video showed him holding a gun to the back of Mason’s head.
I watched helplessly as Mason tried to fight, only to have me and other people he cared about tie him down tighter than any ropes could have. Even so, he struggled at first, until I saw Bill tap the screen with the gun in his hand.
The video caught the unmistakable sound of pants being unzipped and the blow that forced Mason across the desk. Fortunately, for everyone’s sanity, the camera was catching mostly just Mason’s face, and Dowling in the background, leering on as Bill yanked at Mason’s hair to force his head back.
The pain and disgust on Mason’s face was clear: He tried to pull away from them, his body jerking backwards, bumping the desk or shelf the cell phone was on. The picture wavered a moment and refocused, this time showing more of Dowling’s body, including the handgun he held pointed at Mason.
The video jumped again, a few minutes having passed, obviously editing out the actual attack on Mason.
“Well, I certainly see now why you missed him so much,” said Conyers, as he rebuckled his belt. “Heisbetter than a bitch.”
I watched Mason grab blindly for his clothes, his face ashen and silent tears running down his face. The angle kept his body from being exposed, but naked agony was apparent on his face.
A gasp went up through the audience as they realized what they had just watched. I heard a woman scream and saw Bill’s wife, Adelaide, slumped over in her seat.
“Stop them!” a voice yelled, and I was already out of my seat before I saw Bill and his cronies running past the front of the stage andtoward the center aisle in a bid to escape. I saw Jeri’s foot flash out and trip him as he ran by, a handgun fumbling out of his grasp and onto the floor. I moved as I saw him reach for it, all too aware of the damage he might be able to cause with so many people nearby. His fingers were a mere inch away from the weapon when a booted foot came down hard on his hand. Tobi’s foot.
Conyers screamed and Tobi grinned as Jeri jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. “I think we know who therealdegenerate are now, Bill,” he said.
Bill made it to his feet and started running down the aisle, but I sprinted after him. My hip hurt, but I’d be damned if I let him get away after what he’d done. He had almost made it to the doors out of the auditorium when I tackled him to the ground.
“You fucking sonofabitch,” I growled, my fists flying as I pummeled him into submission. Unfortunately, I only got in a couple of punches before the doors in front of us opened, and the tall, middle-aged man wearing the Security t-shirt stood over us, holding a badge in one hand and his gun in the other entered the auditorium.
“Mr. Conyers, you are under arrest for aggravated assault, rape, racketeering, attempted murder and a whole lot of other shit that’s going to keep you in jail the rest of your life. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”
The click-whir of handcuffs being applied seemed louder than a gunshot. The room went wild, the crowd cheering as he was placed under arrest. After the police escorted Conyers and his friends out, Adelaide Conyers regained consciousness and was helped out of the room by some friends. I couldn’t help but pity her. I sincerely hoped she hadn’t been involved in any of her husband’s crimes.
