As a present for Meagan’s nineteenth birthday, Paul, who still held a torch for her, bought a baggie of meth off the streets. Meagan had never even tried anything harder than pot a day in her life — She preferred the slightly smarter route, to sell it — and she had no idea what was in store for her that night. Paul and two other gang members he let in on the surprise waited until she was good and drunk before springing it on her. In her skewered state of mind, peer pressure got the best of her. She used Paul’s pipe that he held and lit for her. After the first puff, she was so high she didn’t need another.
She partied nonstop until six the next morning, and was still wide awake. One of the gangsters and his two friends, who had been watching her all night, thought nothing of it. They waited until they could get her alone to hatch their sinister plan. Being the last ones left in the bar, they offered to give Meagan a ride back to the mansion. Once they got her into the dark SUV, they took off.
“Find somewhere dark and private.” Fear struck a cord in Meagan as she recognized the voice and its dark undertone. It was Carlos. Of that she had no doubt.
A hard blow to her right temple stopled her cold. She saw stars, as she fell straight to the floor. “Shut up! Pinche puta!” Then she felt the SUV take a hard right, which sent her rolling to the left. She felt so dizzy so quick that she thought she might get sick.
Within minutes, the gang of four brutes — Carlos had apparently been waiting inside the vehicle for them to show up with Meagan — seemed to have found their destination, as the SUV suddenly came to a stop. As the driver jumped in the back to join the group, Meagan started to negotiate with her boss, her leader, now her captor. She still didn’t see that the obvious was about to happen.
“Carlos, what’s the matter?” She asked submissively. “Did I not make you enough money this mo–”
Again, Carlos Santana interrupted her with a crushing blow. This time, he drove a fist into her abdomen. Painfully, all of the air escaped her body, and she fell forward. Once she hit the floor, the three other men went to work taking her pants off while Carlos picked her head up by the hair. “No, silly girl,” he teased. “Since your ungrateful friend has decided not to give it up for the past five days… Well… I need someone good to let my frustrations out on.”
Meagan’s heart turned to solid ice and dropped down to the pit of her stomach. She shook her head vehemently, as tears burned her eyes. “No…”
Carlos nodded. “Yes.” She smelled the whiskey on his breath then, as she felt her pants start to give way. She bit back a sob. Sweat now dampened her once-pretty face, her tears causing mascara to run. No… No, no, no. NO! This can’t be happening!
Meagan kicked out, momentarily brushing off the hands that grazed her legs and tore at the fabric surrounding them. The fight was on then. Having once believed that they would have total control of the girl, they now fought to maintain control. High on amphetamines, Meagan never gave up the fight over her body, her virginity, her right to give such a precious thing to whomever she chose. She continuously flailed, kicked, bit, scratched, pulled hair, bucked, everything she could do. She put her entire body into it.
For just one moment, these sick individuals doing this to her managed to hold her down long enough to get both her pants and underwear off. Still, Meagan fought tirelessly. At some point, Carlos had barked, “No one touches her until I’m through!” To hear him say that made her absolutely sick to her stomach — which might ne a good thing, she thought, if she could manage to throw up on her assailants.
Now, kneeling in front of her, Carlos forced her legs apart and crammed his fingers inside of her. She cried out in pain, humiliation, and fear, and the sound of her cry had somehow not deterred any of these so-called men. All seemed so very hopeless in that moment. Meagan was just about to give up… When suddenly, a great flash of bright, white light filled the entire vehicle and blinded eveybody.
“Nobody move!” A deep voice comanded with the dead-dog seriousness of a police officer. Relief overtook Meagan. While the criminals scattered — albeit willing to take their chances, even if this believed officer of the law had a gun — she wept. The light stayed on her for a time. For some reason, the person holding it thought better than to chase after the ones who had just been attempting to rape her. Perhaps she looked like she needed more help than she needed. She supposed that was an embarrassing reality, but her mind couldn’t focus on the present reality due to the fact that it was still under the influence. She suddenly stopped crying and sat up. Squinting against the light. Trying to better see the stranger who had saved her, she raised her hand up to shield herself from it.
“Hey,” she said. “Thanks for saving me! What’s your name?”
“Call me Grey,” The man said. “Why don’t you put your clothes back on. We’ve got to call the police.”