A New York Story: Chapter 4

“Er … Excuse me?” Lisa coughed.

Don leered at her. “I said, want to enjoy yourself even more? You look like you're up for some fun.”

Lisa's eyes widened. This guy was doing some heavy duty flirting. Hadn't he seen her with Michael at all? She recalled he had stood by the door as people were arriving. Her eyes found Michael, who was still engaged in spirited conversation with a handful of people. “Really, thank you, but I'm married. In fact, my husband is over there.” She pointed in Michael's direction.

She risked a glance back at Don. His expression was dubious. “That's your husband? Then why the hell ain't he with you??”

She groaned inwardly. “He's mingling.”

Don scoffed and assumed a challenging stance, smirking. “I don't think that's really your husband, girlie.” Lisa tried to back away from him, looking around for the girl with whom she'd just been chatting, but she was nowhere in sight. As she moved, Don moved with her. No, he was not intent on letting her go.

She wasn't intent on keeping him engaged, though. “He is,” she insisted. Turning again toward Michael, she tried desperately to get his attention. “Michael??” she called, raising her voice as much as possible over all the crowd noise.

Michael was talking up a blue streak and laughing along with the group of maybe five people he was standing with, and failed to acknowledge her.

Lisa moved a bit in his direction, assuming Don was still with her, and waved frantically. “MICHAEL!!”

Finally Michael turned toward her, a huge grin on his face. He was clearly inebriated. “LISHA!” he slurred. “Great party, innit, love?”
She felt Don take hold of her arm and she whirled around, staring at him wide-eyed. “What are you doing??” she hissed, taking her arm away and letting it fall at her side.

“Come on, this place is dead. Let's go in back. I'll give you a massage,” Don said forcefully, tugging on her arm again.

Lisa looked to Michael again, pleading with her eyes for help. Unfortunately, he was still totally oblivious even as he looked at her.

“You should talk with theesh guys, they're outrageous!” he enthused drunkenly, pointing to several young guys who were part of the crowd chatting with him. “And thish guy ish great, really ...”

Lisa dug her heels in as Don started dragging her away. “Um, Michael, maybe you should --”

“Okay, love, I'll shee you later,” Michael nodded to her, giggling.

She tried to resist, but Don was strong. She couldn't believe no one at the party seemed to notice or care. Then again, they all seemed pretty pissed and too absorbed in conversation. And thanks to all the playful, raunchy behavior occurring thus far, it probably didn't seem out of the ordinary to them. But it really upset her that Michael didn't seem to notice.

He led her back to some of the more private rooms where massages were given. He was standing so close to her and the hallway was so narrow, escape seemed virtually impossible. Stopping in front of a dark, wooden door bearing the number “6”, he pushed it open and dragged Lisa inside.

Lisa barely had time to study the room. It was done in a typical dark, gaudy fashion. There was a bed with a wild, colorful pattern on the bedspread, a side table with a lamp, and large curtains tied back from the window with thick, braided yellow rope. The window also featured small blinds that were all drawn. Realizing what he must have had planned, a shiver went up her back. Lisa first instinct was to wiggle out of Don's grip and make a run for the door, but he beat her there and slammed it shut. He gave her a sleazy grin and shook his finger at her. He clamped his hands down on her shoulders, then lifted one hand to caress her face.

Lisa thrust her arm up, grabbing his hand and knocking it away. “Look, you can't do this. I told you I'm married,” she insisted.

“And that's the biggest line of bull I've heard tonight, sweetheart,” Don replied, leering at her some more. Lisa finally thrust her left hand in front of him, showing off her wedding ring. Don eyed it for a second and then laughed dismissively. “That don't mean nothin' to me. That little thing?”

Lisa narrowed her eyes at him, feeling stung by what he'd said about the ring Michael had given her when they first professed their love for each other. “My husband is Michael Palin, you know, one of the actors in the film? The chap who played Dennis, and Sir Galahad, and --”

“The 'pure' guy? Well, there's your problem, miss. You don't want a guy who's got those pesky vows of chastity. What you need ...”

He suddenly thrust forward, undoing the couple of buttons at the top of her blouse and pulling it down along with her sleeves. Lisa gasped and raised her hand, slapping him in the face.

Don appeared stunned for only a brief moment, then another sleazy grin spread across his face. “Oh, so you like it rough, huh?”

Lisa's gaze quickly flitted over to the door and she tried to move away from him, but he suddenly grabbed her roughly. Her scream was drowned out as he kissed her hard. She felt nausea welling up within her as she felt his tongue enter her mouth and tasted an acrid mix of alcohol and tobacco. She tried to lift her leg in a kick, but he held her fast with one hand as the other reached down and roughly pulled at her skirt. He'd succeeded in getting it pulled down halfway, exposing her underwear.

Lisa continued to struggle against his grip and started to scream again when he grabbed her face and covered her mouth with his lips again, kissing her roughly. Led Zeppelin's “Stairway to Heaven” was playing in the background, a song she normally liked, but Robert Plant's yelling at this particular point in the song just added to the tension and panic that was going through her. She tried everything to free herself from Don. She attempted to knee him in the groin, but he was too fast and rough.

He knocked her down on the bed, holding her tight so she couldn't move. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent scream as his hand found its way into her underwear and he began touching her inappropriately. Two of his pudgy fingers inserted themselves into her vulva and she felt as though she would vomit. She let out the loudest scream she could until he clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up,” he snapped before he went back to his handiwork. She bit her lip, hot tears stinging the corners of her eyes. This creep was attacking her, and Michael was nowhere in sight. She was living a nightmare.

Through her panic she suddenly heard footsteps. Could it actually be Michael? Another party goer? One of the staff? She hoped it was someone who could help and not a pal of Don's. The footsteps got closer and stopped outside the door. Her eyes focused on the doorknob as it began to turn. 'Oh, please. Please help,” she pleaded silently.

The door opened. Before the intruder made their presence known, she heard a familiar voice. “Oh, sorry, I didn't ...”

He entered and her heart overflowed with relief upon seeing a familiar face.

Eric.

****************************************************

Eric stopped short, stunned when he found Lisa on the bed in one of the massage rooms with a young man dressed as John's main character in the film. He'd originally come back here to escape, getting a bit bored and deciding he'd had enough of the party. He'd heard some commotion and a scream, but he assumed someone was having a grand old time, nothing more.

His felt his heart leap into his throat when he saw Lisa in such distress. Her face was flushed, her eyes were tearing, and her underwear was pulled halfway down her legs. The guy had a wild look in his eyes, probably well pissed and happy to take advantage of an innocent girl. It didn't look like he'd actually had sex with her, but whatever he'd done, Lisa was in a panic.
 
The guy turned around and eyed Eric angrily. “Get the hell out of here!!” he shouted.

Eric glared at him severely. “No, you get the fuck away from her!!” he demanded.

Don started to rise. “Or what?!” he challenged.

Thinking quick, Eric grabbed the lamp off the small table, rushed forward and smashed it over Don's head, knocking him to the floor, unconscious. He then looked at the curtains, seeing them tied back with strong cords. He removed them and bent to tie Don up with them.

He heard Lisa panting and his gaze flew over to her, staring in shock at Don's limp body lying on the floor. She pulled her underwear and skirt back up and ran over to Eric. “Oh, my God!!! Eric!! Oh, my God,” she cried, a huge amount of relief evident in her voice.

“Lisa,” Eric started, gathering her into a hug. “Christ, what happened?” He began cradling her in his arms and he gazed at her sadly as her eyes overflowed with tears. If the situation were different, he'd hope she wouldn't get the wrong idea, especially after what had happened a few months ago. But he didn't give a shit at the moment; she looked as if she really needed comfort.

Lisa sniffled, her tears still flowing freely. She looked like she couldn't form the words and simply shook her head.

Eric felt tears welling up deep inside him. He gazed back at Don and decided they should go somewhere else, lest he'd wake up. “Come on,” he coaxed her softly. He started to stand and with a hand guiding her, helped pull her up off the floor. As they exited, he made a mental note of the room number in order to notify the police.

He escorted her to another empty room further down the hallway. Once inside, she sunk to the floor and he sat down with her, holding her. “Tell me what happened.”

Lisa had composed herself slightly and nodded. “He found me at the party while a girl I'd been speaking with had left to get another drink. He started making small talk at first, but then he got a bit flirty. He asked if I was enjoying myself and if I wanted to enjoy myself 'even more.'” Her monotone, somewhat detached voice became uneasy. “He started dragging me away. I kept trying to break free of him, but he was so … forceful.” She scrunched up her face in disgust. “No one at the party seemed to notice. He led me back here into that room. I kept telling him that I'm married to Michael, but it was as if he wouldn't believe me, you know? He forced himself upon me. He grabbed me, kissed me hard, tried to pull my clothes off, and, he... well...” Her eyes drifted down to her nether regions and she broke down into tears again.

Tears pricked at the corners of Eric's eyes. He couldn't believe his good friend had been taken advantage of in such a way. “What a fucking bastard,” he said, his voice a bit uneven. He planted a kiss in her hair and held her close. “It's alright, darling. It's alright.”

Lisa leaned into Eric, appearing grateful he was here to comfort her. She suddenly lifted her head from his shoulder. “And you know what the worst of it is? He started hitting on me when we were all in the lounge area, and Michael didn't even notice. I kept looking to him for help, calling out to him, and he was just so preoccupied with … whomever those people were. And I think he had far to much to drink as well. I just … ugh! It was as if he didn't even care.” She lowered her head and begun to cry again.

Eric sighed, gazing at her sadly. He really felt for Lisa and he knew how much she loved and depended on Michael. But he also knew how much Michael really loved her. “Lisa, listen to me. Mike would never, ever think that. He loves you so much. I know that when he finds out, he'll be really upset. And pissed off. That Yank had better watch his back.”

Lisa eyed him seriously, almost incredulously.

“Yeah, I know, we all take the piss out of him for being 'the nice one,' but you know how he is when he's pushed too far. The 'Palin Wrath' is not a pretty sight.” He uttered a short, humorless laugh, having endured Michael's wrath at various times over the past year.

Lisa stared ahead and nodded. Eric lightly touched her shoulder, causing her to turn back towards him. “Feeling a little better now?” he asked hopefully. Maybe that was a stupid question. She was obviously traumatized by what that guy had done to her. But he hoped that talking to her and showing her he cared helped calm her.

She looked up at him with the biggest, saddest pair of bluish-green-gray eyes he'd ever seen. She slowly nodded.

Eric felt his lips tug upward in a slight smile. He patted her on the shoulder and then helped her stand up. “Come on, let's get out of here. We need to have a chat with the staff, tell them what happened and phone the police.”

Lisa nodded. As they exited the room, Eric risked a glance at his watch. It was nearly a quarter to eight. He wasn't too sure how long this party was supposed to last, but surely there were still people there. He held Lisa's hand as they made their way down the corridor and out into the open lounge area.

Looking around, Eric wrinkled his nose slightly. It looked as if the party had wrapped up some time ago. There were bits of drink still left in glasses, some that had tipped over, and there were even bits of food still around on top of tables. It seemed the cleaning staff had just started sweeping and mopping up. Eric frowned. There wasn't any sign of the other Pythons or any of the other guests. Finally spotting the manager, he breathed a sigh of relief. Nodding at Lisa, they headed in his direction.

They told him about what Don had done, Eric electing to do most of the talking as Lisa still seemed very upset. He did let her fill in the important details, however. After apologizing to Lisa profusely, the manager phoned the police and they arrived within a few minutes. Eric directed them to the room in which Don, now fully conscious and struggling against his rope bonds, was located. They spent a few minutes questioning both Lisa and Eric, and had taken Don down to the station. They both gave the police the details of where they were staying and were told the police chief would be in contact if they needed any more information.

After that ordeal, Lisa seemed to be scanning the room as if she was still hoping Michael was there. Eric asked the manager where Michael had gone and was told he'd found a ride back to the hotel with Terry Jones – or so he had said.

Eric watched Lisa's face fall and saw the hurt in her eyes. “He must have been pretty pissed if he just went back with Jonesy and didn't even look for you. I know he will really regret it once he comes to his senses.” Lisa simply leaned into him, looking so lost it broke his heart. He gave her another little kiss on the top of her head. “Here, I'll ride back with you to your hotel.” Lisa simply nodded, appearing grateful that she didn't have to go alone.

Eric quickly handed a tip to the cabbie as they exited the taxi, heading across the pavement toward Lisa's hotel. The sun was setting and the breeze had picked up. Lisa wrapped her arms around her and appeared to be shivering slightly. Eric wasn't sure if it was from the breeze, the ordeal she'd just been through, or both. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they made their way up to the hotel door.

As they stepped inside, Eric scanned the lobby, hoping for some sign of Michael. When that search came up fruitless, he turned to Lisa and saw disappointment etched across her face. She was still not in good spirits obviously and Eric didn't feel comfortable about leaving her alone. “Alright if I take you up to your room?” He half dreaded her answer, hoping she didn't think he was being too pushy.

Luckily he didn't have to worry. “Of course,” she nodded. With that, they headed toward the elevator.

Arriving in front of her and Michael's room, Eric knocked tentatively, expecting Michael to answer. He didn't. To be sure, Eric called out his name, but again received no answer. He looked at Lisa and shrugged. Did they have to stand outside the door now until Michael arrived back from wherever he was?

Fortunately, Lisa had her own copy of the key. She removed it from her purse, unlocked the door and let Eric in. Eric gazed around the room, a bit impressed at how nice it was compared to his fairly drab single room. He half expected to find Michael passed out on the bed, but there was no sign of him in the room at all.

“Looks like he didn't make it back yet,” Eric thought out loud, then felt like kicking himself for stating the obvious and potentially worrying Lisa more.

Lisa laughed humorlessly as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, I can see that, Eric. I wonder if he and Terry picked up a couple of women somewhere. Maybe even one that's more attractive than me.”

Eric regarded her incredulously and then felt his heart breaking all over again. He sat down next to her. “Lisa, knock it off. Stop beating yourself up like that,” he gently admonished her. “Mike loves you more than anything; I know he does.” He softened a bit. “I wonder if he and Jonesy had too much to drink and are puking all over the pavement somewhere.” His mouth twitched upward in a lopsided grin. Lisa gave a brief laugh that made Eric smile. “Look, everything will be fine.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and then moved to get off the bed when Lisa stopped him.

“Eric, could you stay a bit longer? I … I really don't want to be alone,” she said, her voice trembling slightly with fear.

Eric conceded to himself that it was the best course of action. He really didn't feel comfortable about leaving her all alone just yet and he was glad that she wanted his company. “Alright,” he nodded, sitting back down. He laid back, taking Lisa into his arms.

She turned to him and looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Eric, for being such a good friend.” She smiled weakly.

“Anytime, darling,” he responded quietly, stroking her hair. Lisa leaned her head back on Eric and within a few minutes, had dozed off into a peaceful sleep. Eric turned and smiled. He felt utterly awful for what had been done to her and he was glad he could be here for her as a friend.

He didn't know how long they'd stayed like this until he saw early morning sunlight leaking through the curtains, heard the knob twisting and watched the door open.

The visitor soon made their presence known, and Eric jumped, startled … which resulted in Lisa waking and also jumping with a start.

“Eric, what the fuck are you doing in our room?!”