My New Life

By Michael Paterson

There were a lot of things that happened in that van during the time I was held there. I told you that he raped me... repeatedly, but it wasn't all... vaginally."
"Sometimes he would handcuff me... face down... he would put a couple of old pillows under my hips... then he would... then he did.... things to me." Jenny continued with her story, and the more she spoke the more easily the words flowed. She began to describe in great detail some of the things that were done, and how she had been degraded and abused. She snuggled up to Scott's chest while she spoke, and he held her tightly with both arms to give her an increased sense of security and safety. He could feel her tears landing on his chest as she spoke, and for most of the time that she recited her litany of depraved treatment, his own tears flowed gently down his cheeks.
She gave him a complete, sequential and detailed description of everything that went on from the time she was grabbed on the street until her miracle escape over 48 hours later. She said that there would always be the possibility that some of her memories had been repressed too deeply, and according to Dr. Burns they might never resurface. She said she didn't think there was anything that she hadn't eventually recalled, and she spilled the details out in a steady torrent.
Neither of them kept track of the time it took, but eventually she finally was able to say, "And that's my whole story. I've told you everything, even the things I tried my best to never think about." I know that it wasn't that long ago that I wouldn't have been able to even contemplate telling anyone this, but you have been such a help to me in getting to the place where I am now. 
Scott continued to hold her, unwilling to say anything until he got his emotions in check. Jenny continued, "I feel like a great weight has been lifted off of my back. Thank you so much for being such a good listener, and such a patient man." It was time now for Scott to speak, and he soon joined in with, "I know it took an awful lot of courage for you to tell me all of this, but I really think you're going to be able to look back on this as the day you started a whole new life. I know that's the way I feel. The physical part of our relationship can wait until the time is right. I'm sure we'll both know when that time arrives."
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: michael paterson
• Release date: Oct 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393771128

Michael Paterson

I write from my childhood for the love of adventure. My imagination has never changed writing is part of who I am.

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Copyright© Michael Paterson 2020

The right of Michael Paterson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher. The characters and events and places portrayed in this book have been changed to protect the innocent people in this story at their request.

A Cataloque record for this book will be available from the British Library

My new life

Chapter 1

It was obvious to all of the players that the dealer was getting a little tired. He was starting to have difficulty shuffling the cards, and they could notice that he was checking his watch after every hand had been completed. Scott Quinn had also been checking his watch, and he knew that they would be playing at least another three hands of Texas Holdem before there would be a short break while the dealer was replaced, and a fresh deck was brought into use. He was looking forward to the break as well, as it would give him a chance to take a necessary trip to the bathroom.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, and most of the people at their table had been there for at least a couple of hours. Scott himself had been there for over four hours, and knew that he would probably play for at least another hour before taking a supper break. It made no sense for him to leave too soon, now that he had gotten to the point where he was able to figure out most of the players styles and their 'tells' that were permitting him to have a bit of an advantage at the table.

They were playing £5 and £10 Limit, Texas Holdem, which meant that the pot could get fairly sizable when up to three raises were made. The dealer would remove up to five dollars from each pot as the casino's share, or rake, which usually didn't make too much of a difference in the size of the pot, but still would cost the players a lot of money in an evening.

There was one female at the table, a pretty, dark haired woman he judged to be around his own age of thirty-five years old. She seemed to be pretty good at playing the game, but he had picked up one very valuable tell from her; he just hadn't had the opportunity to make use of it yet. He fully expected that the information he had filed away on her habit could either save or make him some money. Scott also noticed that she wasn't taking advantage of her good looks or figure, a surprising mistake on her behalf.

From the size of the stack of chips in front of him he knew that he was likely to be ahead by at least £250 for his afternoon's work so far. That was about the result that he had hoped for, based on how the past afternoons spent at the tables had gone for him. With still an hour to go before he planned to take a lengthier break, he was very hopeful of adding to his winnings.

The woman was sitting practically across from him and was immediately to the dealer's left. There were two other players between her seat and his, and they were both players that seemed to be losing more than they were winning. The remaining five players to his left were a mixed group. The two closest to him were both decent players, and it seemed that both of them were ahead a few chips. The next player was one of the bigger losers for the afternoon, one of those players that were necessary if the others were to make any money from the game.

The last two players, the ones closest to the dealer's right hand, seemed to be average players that were probably close to breaking even. Scott was hopeful that once he gained more information on their play he might be able to make a few dollars at their expense. A lot of people felt that playing poker was a fun experience, but Scott had learned that if you looked at it that way it was going to cost you some cash. He knew that he had to watch his opponents closely, so that he would have every advantage available when he made his bets.

Just as he had expected, the break occurred three hands later, and he was able to make a quick pit stop at the men's room. He hadn't been the only one to do that, but they all made it back in plenty of time for the start of the next hand. Scott was just about to sit down at the table when an old friend of his walked by and noticed him standing there.

Scott! How the hell are you doing? I haven't seen you in at least a couple of years. The speaker was a man of his own age, and close to Scott's height of six feet tall. While Scott had dark brown hair, his rapidly approaching friend was also notable for his rugged good looks. Good looks were not something that Scott had ever associated with himself, though, as his face, while otherwise normal, bore a very obvious scar from reconstructive surgery for a cleft lip and palate.

Jack, it's good to see you! You're right, it's been too long. The two men shook hands before continuing their conversation. The surprise Scott felt at seeing his old friend made him speak more quickly than usual, and as a result his nervousness became very noticeable, as his words became overly nasal. It was as though he was talking through his nose, and several of his fellow poker players quickly glanced up as he spoke. "So, Scott, you're a poker player now.

I hope you're not losing your shirt! Jack was grinning as he said it, as he knew full well that Scott wasn't a person known for foolishly squandering his money. I play a little now and then, Jack. So far I've managed to keep my pickup and my Apartment. What are you up to these days?" As he regained control of his breathing and slowed down his speech his nervousness almost disappeared. The many months of training spent with a Speech Pathologist served him well, and in normal situations his speech sounded almost indistinguishable from anyone else's.

Nothing new or different, really. I still work in the office at the paper mill. I guess I've been spending too much time with Sharon, my girlfriend. You know how it is, Lip; they don't like their guy spending time with his buddies. He laughed heartily at his little joke.

Scott joined him in his laughter before asking, Are you staying here tonight, Jack? Maybe we could get together later for supper or a couple of drinks. The smile disappeared from Jack's face as he said, No, Lip, I'm not. Sharon is in the casino, playing the slot machines for a few minutes, and then we're headed back to Simpson Bay. She has to go to work in the morning. We only stopped in here for a few minutes on our way back from Middlesborough; we were there for a concert.

Scott could see that the dealer was just about ready to begin his first deal, so he said, That's too bad, Jack. How about I give you a phone call later this week, and maybe we could get together for supper back home. He laughed before continuing, I'll even spring for supper for your girlfriend if she wants to come along. It would give me a chance to meet her, and to tell her what you are really like.

That sounds like a plan, Scott. Except for the last part; how about you just forget the war stories. She has enough things to give me a rough time about as it is. The two men shared a laugh before each gently slapped the other on the shoulder and Scott turned back to the table to retake his seat.

On the first deal the big blind was posted by the man two positions to Scott's right. When the player who was under the gun failed to make a bet, Scott raised the bet to £20 while holding an Ace and an 8. All of the rest of the players mucked their cards, leaving him with a gain of almost £15. He made the same play three more times during the next 15 hands, and in every case he collected the blinds minus the rake. It almost seemed as though the other players didn't like to take him on.

On the thirteenth hand he was in the small blind position, and received the Ace of Diamonds and King of Spades, the best cards that he had been dealt in a while. The third player on his left, the afternoon's big loser, called the big blind, and the woman across from him raised the bet to £20. The player to his immediate right called her raise, as did Scott with his Ace King. The player to his left folded the big blind, and the first caller threw in the extra £10 needed to call; there were going to be four of them in the hand.

Scott was paying close attention to the players who had decided to play this hand, and noticed immediately that the woman across from him was indicating that she had a good hand. The tell that he had noticed earlier was warning him that she had very good cards, and he knew that the other two players in the hand were prone to stay in hands waiting to see the flop with any kind of decent cards. He knew he would also have to wait for the flop to see whether he should stay in the hand himself.

The flop came up with a pair of Kings and an Ace, giving Scott a full house, Kings full of Aces. It was a great hand, and he quickly raised the initial £10 bet from the man on his right. The next player called, and the woman across from him calmly raised the bet another £10. The man to his right made the third raise, and the pot had grown by over £100 on that round of betting. He had been watching the woman closely, and realized that in spite of the fact that he had a rare great hand, it was a loser. After a momentary hesitation he folded the two cards and watched the dealer pull them into the pile of dead cards.

Scott carefully watched the remaining rounds of betting on the turn card and the river, confident as he watched the woman's play that he had made the right decision. The player to his right obviously felt he had the winning hand, as he kept raising her raises. He wasn't sure what the third man in the pot had, but he kept calling every bet. Scott had judged him in the earlier play as a rather undisciplined player, and truly, what cards he had were anyone's guess.

By the time the hand ended, the pot was almost £700, the best one of the afternoon. When the woman showed her pair of Aces, her Aces full easily beat the ace high flush held by the player to Scott's right, and the three Kings held by the remaining player. While the chips were being moved over in front of the woman, Scott said, I'm sure glad I folded Big Slick. The woman immediately reacted to his comment, saying, I'm calling bullshit on that! There's no way you folded an Ace King after that flop. A couple of the other players made comments in agreement with her.

The dealer was just reaching for the pile of dead cards when Scott asked, If no one objects, could you turn over some of those cards? You'll find the Ace of Diamonds and the King of Spades in there, and they should be together.

All of the other players nodded or voiced their agreement, so the dealer started turning over the cards. The fifth and sixth cards were the ones that Scott had folded, and seeing them displayed just as he had predicted created a buzz of conversation amongst the other players. The woman across from him was particularly amazed, and quickly said, How could you know that I had you beat? It must have been just a good guess.

It wasn't a guess. I knew you had me beat. He grinned at her before continuing, You didn't say it in words, but you told me pretty clearly what you had. He spoke carefully, keeping the nervousness in check. The buzz at the table subsided, and the woman was clearly a bit frustrated as she sat there, occasionally looking across at Scott, as though she would be able to figure out how he had managed to read her hand if she simply kept an eye on him. In response Scott simply smiled at her whenever he noticed that she was looking at him again.

For the next half-hour play continued normally, with Scott picking up the blinds a couple of times, as well as winning almost £200 on a set of Jacks. They were approaching the time for the next break when the player to Scott's right said to him, I thought I heard your friend call you Scott. Was that right? Is that because of your... scar? I hope you don't mind me asking.

Since neither of them was in the hand that was being played at that moment Scott replied, I don't mind you asking. It's a nickname I've had since I was in grade school. One of the kids thought he'd give me a rough time about my scar with that nickname, but I didn't mind too much; I've been called worse. It has stuck with me ever since.

The man seemed satisfied with Scott's answer, and just nodded. As Scott turned back to the table, he noticed that the woman across from him had been listening to their conversation. Play continued for another 15 minutes or so until the next break started. Scott managed to break almost even over that period of time, collecting the blinds once in return for his obligation to post the blinds when they worked their way around to him. When the break finally began, he let everybody know that he was leaving and picked up his chips.

Scott was standing at the cashier's enclosure counting the nearly £700 he had received in trade for his chips. He had started with £150 in chips, so it wasn't a bad afternoon's work. He was about to turn away and head up to his room for a few minutes when a woman spoke up behind him. I'd really like to know how you knew I had a pair of Aces.

Scott turned in surprise, and saw the woman who had been sitting across from him was standing in the line behind him. He stepped out of her way so that she could approach the cashier and then replied, I knew you had the nuts, even before the flop. That could only be a pair of aces, and when you showed me the same tell after the flop, I knew for sure you had me beat. He grinned at her when she turned momentarily from the conversation she was having with the cashier and gave him a look of exasperation.

In a moment she turned away from the cashier, her chips now converted into cash, and said, I'd really like to know how you did that. How about if I buy you supper, and you can tell me what this supposed 'tell' is. I still think your probably bullshitting me. She was standing a few feet away from him as she spoke, and it was obvious that she was a little nervous.

Scott laughed at her suggestion before replying, I bet you wouldn't want to give up your secret if the roles were reversed. What if we end up at the same table again? I'd have lost my edge. He wasn't used to speaking to strange women, especially attractive ones, and his nervousness made a return with his nervousness.

She was looking a little upset as she answered, There isn't much chance of that. I only come down here every three or four weeks from Portobello. I heard you tell your friend you would see him in Simpson Bay, so really, how much chance is there that we would ever end up sitting at the same table again? She was holding her purse tightly to her body, and it occurred to Scott that she appeared to be ready to run if he had stepped in her direction.

After noticing her reaction, Scott took a closer look at her. Her dark hair was longer than he had realized,