Commodity by Shay Savage Page B

arms before.  I don’t know if they thought I was broken already or what, but no one grabbed my hands again.  I pushed at him, but he just laughed.  I reached out, just trying to find something, and came up with a piece of metal—I think it was a tire jack.  It was heavy, anyway.
    “I hit him with it, right across the face, I’m sure.  He started screaming, and I got the bag off my head.  The van wasn’t moving—I think it was stopped at a traffic light.  I was kicking and screaming—I know I hit more than one of them.  I don’t know if my reaction surprised them enough that they didn’t know what to do or not.  I only know I grabbed the door handle and ran off into the woods nearby, and no one followed me.
    “My panties were wrapped around my ankle.  I got them back up as I was running, but I only had those and my shirt.  I saw those blue signs with a big H on them and followed them to the hospital.  I told them I was raped and did the whole rape kit thing.”
    “That was almost the worst part,” I say, remembering.  “It was like it was happening all over again.  I think I was in shock.”
    “You probably were.”
    “So, that’s basically it.”  I take a long breath.  “The police came.  Hudson was found at his home with his wife and kids, and the media circus began.  You probably know the rest.”
    Falk starts to pull his hand back, and I reflexively grab his wrist to keep it where it is.  He stills for a moment, then turns his hand over, lacing our fingers together.
    “Beck grabbing you made you think about it,” Falk says.  “That’s why you were starting to panic.”
    “I guess so.”
    “The same way you did when I was trying to fix your leg.”  He grips my hand slightly.  “I’m sorry about that.  I should have thought about it.  I think I was on automatic.”
    “I know,” I say. “It’s okay.  You were just trying to help.  Beck wasn’t trying to hurt me either.”
    “Beck is an ass,” Falk says.  “He’s also dangerous.”
    “He isn’t one of the men who attacked me,” I point out.
    “That doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”  Falk shifts, moving slightly closer to me.  I can feel his leg up against mine.  “He needs to be put in his place.”
    “‘I will smack your cock-holster closed?’”  I raise an eyebrow at him.
    “It got my point across.”
    “A little homophobic, don’t you think?”
    “No,” he replies, “it has nothing to do with being gay.  It has to do with who is on top and who is on the bottom.  He’s military even though he lied about what he did.  He’s heard it before.”
    “What did he lie about?”
    “He lied about his service.”
    “He wasn’t in the Air Force?”
    “He might have been Air Force, but he wasn’t in communications.  That was a crock of shit.  He was special ops, same as Ryan.  That’s how they know each other.  More likely Army than Air Force.”
    “How do you know?”
    “The way they move, the way they talk and interact with each other.  I can tell.”
    I shake my head.  I can’t argue with him on this one; I have no frame of reference.  There is no doubt that Falk is observant.  I could tell that from the moment I met him.
    “Still,” I say, slowly shaking my head, “I’m not sure if ‘putting people in their place’ is going to make a lot of friends.”
    “I’m not trying to make friends, Hannah.  I really only have the one goal.”
    “Keep me safe?”
    “Keep you safe.”
    “I’m not sure you have to argue with everyone around me to do that.”
    “Everything is different now, Hannah,” he says.  “There is no authority anymore.  Survival depends on putting yourself at the top.”
    “‘It’s the end of the world as we know it.’” I softly quote lyrics from the REM song.  I look up at Falk as I remember more of the song.  “You’re fine with this, aren’t you?”
    “Chaos is my element.”

Chapter 7
    “Someone has to go talk to them.  We need