~o~O~o~

Willow now sat in the living room. It might as well have been called the interrogation room because that’s what was taking place. Willow sat in the middle of the couch; Gwen had pulled a sitting chair up to face her. Standing next to the chair was Angela, arms crossed, face frowning. William had just finished with patients at his satellite office in far east El Paso but was present via video call on the cell Gwen held.

“Is it true, daughter? What Angie said happened at the bookstore coffee shop?”

“Poppa, I was pulling his chain – I was lying to him to get him uptight. I’m not living as Willow just for you to kick me out so I can go back to dealing drugs.”

“So you were lying to him. How can I be sure you’re not lying to us?”

Angie nodded. “What you told that Rico guy – it sure sounded like you meant it, sis. Every word.”

Gwen frowned in concern. “Honey, why did you feel the need to antagonize this boy? If he’s dealing drugs, he could be violent. Why didn’t you just drop it?”

“Did you take, or keep, that little packet of powder he gave you?” William asked.

“No!” cried Willow. “I didn’t take it – didn’t put it into my purse – didn’t slip it into my jacket. See?” She emptied her purse onto the coffee table. She reached for the pockets of her jacket – then realized she didn’t have it on.

Angie noticed. “Oh, sis. Don’t tell me you left your jacket at that cafe’.”

“Can you call and see if they still have it, Ang?”

“Yeah. I’ll go get it for you if they do,” Angela replied, punching her phone keypad.

William’s voice was getting more irate. "You identified yourself as ‘Willy’ to that boy. Do you see yourself as Willow, or are you secretly Willy – a male teenage drug lord? Have we all been living a lie for the last 3 months?”

“Everybody – I was wrong. What I did was stupid. I did it out of anger and aggression, and a sense that I needed to win – that I needed to humiliate this Rico guy. I keep making these huge mistakes. Maybe seeing Bernard with that girl made me more likely to go over the edge this time. But that’s not a good excuse. I’m so sorry. I will submit to whatever punishment you think is necessary.”

William appeared to be in thought. “Gwen, honey; what do you think?”

“I think we go back to the full grounding. No phone, and she stays around one of her parents every waking moment,” Willow’s momma said.

“That’s what I was thinking,” replied William. “And I’ll get some pee from her when I get home, to send to the lab.

“Yes, ma’am; yes sir.” Willow sighed and closed her eyes.

~o~O~o~

Angie arrived back at the Megabooks café. I wonder what happened to that little drug packet Rico slid to Willow. Did she put it in her jacket? I’ll check out the pockets when I pick it up, and if it’s there, I’ll just toss it into the trash; she’s in enough trouble with Mom and Dad already.

She approached the coffee counter and spoke to the . “Hi, I’m Angela Eiken. I called a few minutes ago. You’re holding my sister’s coat for me to pick up. It’s green and gold, kind of metallic.”

A tall barista with a big 5 o’clock shadow heard her and came to the counter. “Yes, I’m the one you spoke to. It’s right under this - wha? Hey, did someone move that coat I put here?”

“Yeah,” said the other barista. He walked up to Angie. “I gave it to that dude who was sitting with you – he said he’d take it to you.”

Stupid idiots! Angie thought as she stomped out of the café. I told them specifically to hold it for ME. Now that Rico guy -

“Hey, girl.” That voice came from “that Rico guy”, sitting in an idling, pimped-out extended-cab Chevy truck parked towards the far end of the parking lot. The truck now moved up to the pavement where Angie stood. “Did Willy lose his coat? I got it right here; I was waiting for him to come back and get it. Is he with you?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Drug-pusher. I left her at home. Now give me her jacket.”

“It’s in the back seat. Why don’t you hop in, and talk with me for a while? You’re a nice lookin’ chica.”

“No thanks! Now I’m taking the jacket and leaving.”

Angie opened the rear truck door and grabbed the jacket. Immediately four hands grabbed her from behind and shoved her into the cab.

“I said hop in, bitch. It ain’t polite to turn me down.”

~o~O~o~

Why? Why did I lapse back into “Bill” mode with Rico? Or really – back into “Willy the Drug Dealer” mode? Do I really want to be male deep inside? Or do I do these things because I just want to irritate certain people? One thing’s for sure; when I’m hurt or threatened by someone, I want to hurt them right back. Like revenge is the most important thing. What did Julia tell me? “Revenge is a dish that’s best thrown in the trash.”

Willow continued to sit on the couch in the living room long after the grilling session with her parents had ended. She was trying to manage the jumble of thoughts flooding her brain.

All of my freedoms – lost again. And who knows how long it will take to win them back. Was that episode with Rico this afternoon really that bad? I didn’t hurt anyone but him – and he’s such a sleazeball, he deserves to be hurt. Willow snickered at the memory of Rico realizing that he was being turned on by a “tranny”. He’s so transphobic and bigoted. He deserved what he got. So what’s the big deal – why am I being grounded if it didn’t hurt anyone else besides that lowlife?

“Willow, remember you need to turn your phone over to me,” her Momma said on the intercom. “I’m in the kitchen.”

“Coming, Momma.” Willow dug the cell out of her purse. As she did, it rang; the screen said “Angie”.

“Hey Ang. Did you find my coat?”

“Hey, you piece of shit. Your sister Angie can’t come to the phone. She’s a little tied up, know what I mean?”

Willow froze. That was Rico’s voice. Transmitting from Angie’s cell phone.

“Don’t believe me? Punch the video call button on your phone,” Rico continued.

She did. The screen showed Rico sitting in the front seat of a car, or truck; sitting in the back was a big guy with a bandana hiding all but his eyes. Next to him was a teenage girl with her hands pulled behind her back, and bandanas wrapped around her head – one as a gag, the other as a blindfold. Even with all of that, the girl was clearly Willow’s sister.

“Rico! Let her go! If you hurt her, I’ll –“

“You’ll do what? Seduce me again? No, let me tell you what you’ll do. I don’t want your ugly piece of trash sister. I want you. You need to be taught a lesson. So we’re going to do an exchange: You, for your sister. Come down to the south side, to the intersection of Uvalde and Challo; walk down the alleyway between the two abandoned buildings on the northwest corner. I’ll be there with your sis and some friends of mine, ‘kay? Just you, no one else. No policia either, comprende? Or your sister gets hurt. She says she’s a virgin; one of my amigos here really wants to pop her cherry, make her all preggy. I can’t hold him back forever. You got twenty minutes. Drive fast. Bye-bye now.” The screen went blank.

Willow furiously tried to call back, but there was no answer; finally it rolled over to Angie’s voicemail. “Rico, I can’t drive! I’m only 15 – I don’t have a license or car!” she screamed, knowing that Rico wouldn’t check that message.

Willow realized with horror - her actions earlier today had now indeed hurt someone she cared for.

God help! What do I do? Police? No – Rico will rape Angie. Mom? Dad? I’ve got 19 minutes now! Who can I –

She frantically opened her phone to favorites and punched a name.

“Hey, Willow. Can I call you back? I'm - ”

“BERNARD! GET IN YOUR CAR AND COME TO MY HOUSE TO GET ME! NOW, PLEASE!”

“Uh, Willow – right now I’m with someon-“

“I KNOW – YOU’RE WITH A BLONDE GIRL. I DON’T CARE. BERNARD, RICARDO SANTOS HAS KIDNAPPED ANGIE AND I’VE GOT BARELY 18 MINUTES TO GET TO HER AND SAVE HER! I NEED A RIDE, AND A FRIEND. I’LL NEVER MESS WITH YOUR PERSONAL LIFE AGAIN, I’LL NEVER ASK FOR ANOTHER FAVOR. PLEASE, BERNARD. PLEASE!”

There were 5 seconds of silence. Then:

“I’m on my way.”

Willow hung up and ran into the bedroom wing, headed to her Grandpa’s room. She turned the lights on; Grandpa was still in bed, and the lights on didn’t seem to wake him right now. She headed to the box that held his Vietnam memorabilia. Taking out the two dummy grenades, she looked for a place to put them.

Damn – I don’t have my coat!

She looked around the room; she saw Grandpa had on his green Sergeant First Class jacket. Willow quickly slid him out of it and donned it; it nearly swallowed the girl, it was so oversized for her. She jammed the grenades into the pockets and took off for the garage. In there, she grabbed a big camping spotlight that hung on the wall shelves. Now Willow ran for the front door. She reached the entryway at the same time her Momma did.

“Willow! What was with all the yelling? Why do you have Dad’s army jacket on?”

Willow was at the keypad, punching the code for the gate to open and stay open. She grabbed the front doorknob and turned to face Gwen.

“Momma, I’m about to disobey you. It’s because Angie is in trouble. I have to go get her, and you can’t be there – neither can the police. I love you.”

“Willow, stop. Let me help-“

“MOMMA! There’s no time!”

“Willow, if you leave, I’m warning you - I’ll call 911 and we’ll track you–“

“No, you won’t,” said the girl as she dropped her phone on the floor. She then took off on foot, running toward the front gate. As she ran in the fading daylight, she saw Bernard’s El Camino drive up and through the entry.

Her mother ran to the front drive; she saw the silhouette of her daughter enter a car. It screeched on the asphalt as it jackrabbited back out of the estate grounds. Gwen’s stomach was in knots; something extremely horrible was happening, and she didn’t know what it was or what to do. Helplessness overtook her – until she realized she had one more thing she could do. She opened her cell phone and touched a number she’d recently put into its digital phonebook.

~o~O~o~

“Bernard! 9 minutes - we won’t get there in time!”

“Yes we will. Hang on – I’m gonna take some risks here.”

They zoomed through a red light barely missing a FedEx van; finally they reached the interstate. Bernard floored the accelerator and passed cars doing 70 mph as if they were parked. He reached the Uvalde exit and suddenly they were a block from the meeting alley.

“Okay Bernard. Remember, no matter what happens, you get Angie out of here. Even if it means leaving me behind. Get her out of here and back home safe.”

“Willow. You know he’s not going to let Angie go, right? You go in there and he’s got you both – you can’t trust him!”

“I’m not trusting him; I’m trusting you. Here’s the plan. Watch when I enter the alleyway; then wait 60 seconds, and …”

~o~O~o~

Willow ran down Uvalde street to the Challo intersection, a poorly lit and poorly populated area; if it could speak, it would have said “beware, all those who enter.” She found the alley she needed. There was a split second of hesitation as she turned into the blackened sliver of street; it was so dark, she could hardly see. Then she intrepidly ran in.

“Rico! I’m here. Show yourself! Give me my sister!”

Twenty feet in front of her, dark human forms emerged from the walls of the alley. One of them clicked a flashlight on, and Willow squinted as it shone in her face.

“Two can play that game, jerk,” she cried, as she clicked on the big camping spotlight from the garage. The crevasse was now illuminated, and Willow saw Rico, two of his amigos/goons, and - Angie. She was bound only by the mouth gag and one of the goons who stood behind her holding her arms.

“Let her go, Rico. Let her go and you can have me.”

“Change in plans, freak. We keeping both of you.” Rico extracted a small pistol from the back of his trousers; he wiggled it as he held it to his shoulder.

“I got no gun; I got something better,” replied Willow as she put the spotlight on the ground and pulled both grenades out of the pockets of the army jacket. Using her mouth, she pulled both pins out while holding the handles down. “In this narrow space, these take us all out.”

“Shit, dude,” one of Rico’s accomplices gasped. “Grenades, dude! Where’d she find-”

“My contacts,” Willow barked. “They have shit you guys can’t even imagine. I had these tucked away just for a time like this. Angie, walk over to me.”

The flunky holding Angie let go, and the freed sister walked shakily but rapidly to Willow’s side. “Did they violate you?” Willow muttered. Angie shook her head.

“We’re going to back out of here. You guys take one step and I throw ‘em.” Willow lay the camp spotlight on the ground with the beam still shining in the hood’s faces. She began to walk backwards with Angie, all the while holding the grenades in front of her.

Rico’s buds still looked spooked by the hand bombs, but Rico was angry and suspicious. “There’s no way those are real!” he yelled.

“You want to find out the hard way, asshole?” Willow yelled, still walking backwards. Bernard, where are you?

Rico suddenly pointed the gun at Willow. “Stop, bitch!”

Immediately the bright lights of an auto turned on from behind the three hoods. It had crept down the backstreet from the other end undetected, idling in DRIVE. Now the engine gunned and it rocketed towards the men.

Rico’s two buddies screamed; one flattened himself against a wall, as did Rico. The car, an El Camino, barely grazed them as it passed by. The last thug wasn’t so lucky; he got clipped by the front bumper and hit the pavement along the opposite wall of the alley. Luckily for him, the wheels didn’t run over him. The car kept going towards the other opening of the alley, where two girls now waited. Rico already was running down that way to try to get them.

The Camino’s tailgate had been lowered previously. “Get in!” Willow yelled at her sister, shoving her into the bed of the car/truck. Then Willow jumped in. “Go go go, Bern!” she screamed through the back glass.

Bernard gunned the engine as both girls held on in the bed. A successful escape. That is, it would have been if the left rear tire hadn’t hit an unseeable pothole. The Camino bounced heavily, throwing the two girls into the air. Angie came back down in the bed. Willow glanced off the left rim of the bed and onto the asphalt.

Bernard hit the brakes when he realized what had happened. He stuck his head out of the driver side window and looked back. “WILLOW!” he bellowed. He saw he was 30 feet ahead of her.

She was lying in the road, still conscious but stunned. Rico ran up to where she was; his pistol was pointed at the El Camino, though. He fired two shots at it; both hit metal, but none hit flesh.

“Willow!” screamed Angela.

“Bernard! You’ve got Angie! GO! GO-GO-GO!!” yelled Willow.

“Say goodbye to your ugly ass sister,” sneered Rico as he took careful aim at Angie. But Willow rolled to her side and kicked him in the knee. Losing his balance, the bullet that left his gun went into the sky.

“WILLOW, GET UP!” yelled Bernard as he started to turn the car back towards her.

Rico was on hands and knees, quickly rising up from his fall. He resumed shooting wildly at Angie and Bernard. Willow grabbed his leg and twisted her body, taking him down once more.

“BERNARD, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GO-GO-GO!!”

The El Camino hesitated for a second, then burned rubber as it took off, with Angie holding on for dear life in the back.

“Bernard! You left her behind! Damn you! Damn you to hell!” Angie cried in the car’s bed.

“Oh god … Willow. Willow!” Bernard wept as he sped away.

~o~O~o~

“Where the hell have you taken me?”

In the dark street after the attempted rescue, Willow had been blindfolded with her wrists tied behind her. She then was put in the back of some vehicle, and transported at high speeds over bumpy roads to a new location. Now she walked carefully to avoid stumbling, unable to see and being pushed and kicked as she stepped.

“Quiet, tranny faggot piece of shit,” one of Rico’s goons said. Willow noticed how much braver these guys sounded when they weren’t facing fake grenades and an El Camino.

“Stop. Now turn around.” Willow felt rough hands grab her shoulders and twist her so suddenly that she almost fell. “Stay still; if you kick me I will cut you, freako.” That was Rico’s voice, she realized. Someone grabbed the collar of her grandpa’s army jacket and yanked it off of her. Now hands fumbled with the top button and zipper of her jeans. In short order, both her pants and panties were pulled down to her ankles.

Her heart beat like a triphammer, and a numb sensation encompassed her mouth and fingers. That’s fear, she thought. Face it, Willow. Feel it, but keep walking through it.

“Damn, that ass,” one voice said. “That ain’t no man’s ass.”

“Look at his junk, stupido,” barked Rico. “He’s a man – for now.”

“Sorry, nothing to f*** here,” said Willow. “No front door. Now, if any of you is gay, then … ?”

“Yeah, Emilio. You can have him – you were admiring his ass.”

“Man, I ain’t no homo!”

“Hey assholes,” Rico’s voice chastised, “stop messing around and let’s do this.”

Now Willow was pushed backwards – her buttocks hit an edge of a counter or table. The pushing continued until she was lying back on a hard, flat surface.

“Everybody ready? Here goes,” she heard Rico say. Then her blindfold was ripped off. She blinked her eyes to take in her surroundings.

She was lying flat on a table or something, on her back. Her arms were held by someone standing behind her head, and another guy stood at her feet holding her legs down. All present wore bandanas over their faces and scalps, except for Rico. A dim overhead light flickered and showed that they were in a small room that opened into another room, possibly a kitchen.

“So I’m on a dinner table. Does that mean one of you is gonna be eating me out?” snarked Willow.

“SHUT THE F*** UP, FAG!” The guy holding her hands slugged her in the face.

“No hits to the head, dummy! I want him awake for this!” ordered Rico, who stood at Willow’s left.

“She’s seriously pissing me off,” said the hitter.

“Don’t call him ‘she’. Say ‘him’ or ‘it’.” Now Rico spoke to his captive on the table. “I bet you thought I was just gonna off you, huh?”

“If you’re going to, stop wasting time and do it,” snapped Willow.

“Nope. That’s too easy for you. You die saving your sister, and then you’re this famous tranny martyr, a hero, while I have to leave town to avoid a murder rap. No, see. I want you to suffer. That’s why I brought in a specialist here.” Rico pointed across the table; there was another person with a bandana- wrapped face there, starting an intravenous line in her right arm.

“This dude is with the Southside Lobos. I’m gonna be partnering with them once you’re out of the way. This, tonight, is gonna count as my initiation into their gang. Through me, they’ll have a way into North Montanas – I’ll be the drug king of the north. But I couldn’t do it with everyone waiting for Willy the Dude to come back. So I gotta make sure you ain’t coming back. ‘Cause the Lobos are gonna –“

“HMM – MMT,” growled the specialist. He’d gotten the IV in, and now he glared angrily at Rico, pulling his hand across his mouth bandana in a “zip it!” gesture.

“So you’re not gonna kill me, but I’ll be off the streets? What, you gonna keep me as a prisoner?”

“No.” Rico began to grin, then smile, then laugh out loud. “Willy, I’m gonna de-nut you.”

Willow’s face showed confusion at first, then shock as she comprehended what he’d said.

Rico clarified. “Castration. I’m gonna neuter you, you ugly dog. Gonna make you a eunuch. And I’m gonna keep your dead cojones in a jar in my crib; everyone will know I’m the badass that made Willy into a Wilma. And no chica can run a Lobo drug op, see? You won’t be able to be a man again. You gonna remember me every time you wanna get a hard-on or make kids, and realize you can’t.”

“J – Joke’s on you, Rico,” said Willow, trying fiercely to put on a brave face. “See, I was lying before. I’ve been living like a girl because I really, really want to be a girl. So I was going to have this done eventually anyway.”

“Now I know you lying,” Rico snorted. “You’re scared to death. And you should be, because we’re not gonna use any numbing juice. You’re gonna feel every cut of the knife, every stitch. That’s my present to you, you sorry – hey!”

Rico looked at the specialist, who was attaching a small syringe of yellow fluid to the IV port. “Hey bro, what is that? Valium?” asked the future North Montanas drug king. “I want him awake when you cut his ballsack open!”

The specialist peered at Rico with disdain. “I’ll only use it if you dipshits can’t hold him still. I ain’t gonna have him bleeding all over me,” he said in a gravelly, raspy tone.

Willows mind clicked with recognition. “Hey! I know that voice! You’re the tech from North Montanas Vet Clinic!”

The “specialist’s” eyes suddenly widened in panic. He grabbed the syringe of Valium and pushed it rapidly into the IV line. Within seconds Willow felt fuzzy. “No, no,” she croaked, desperately trying to stay awake. The last thing she heard before unconsciousness was a sharp knocking on the door to the room.

~o~O~o~

To be continued tomorrow in the final, concluding Part 12.

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