Convicted (Consequences)

her on the importance of maintaining eye contact, she wrenched and vomited. It covered her dress and his slacks.
    “Shit!” he barked. It was disgusting!
    “I told you...I was sick!” she cried.
    He looked at the mess and then at Claire as she sunk against the chair.
    “Don’t get the damn chair dirty, too.”
    His words only increased her tears. As he reached for the seat belt and unbuckled, revulsion at the mess was somehow interspersed with sympathy.
    “Come here,” he said as he held out his hand.
    Retracting further against the seat, she asked, “Why am I here? What are you doing?”
    Tony tried once again for compassion, “Claire, you aren’t feeling well; let me get you some water and clean you up.”
    Hesitantly, she stood, allowing him to walk her to the bathroom at the back of the plane. With each command, her compliance decreased while her defiance increased. He suspected she needed more of the drug.
    “I shouldn’t be here. Where are we going?”
    “You’ll feel better if you have some water.”
    Apprehensively, she took the cup laced with the second vial of GHB. He watched the liquid slosh within the confines of the glass as her hands trembled. Finally, afraid she’d spill it, he helped her get the glass to her lips where she took a drink.
    She spit it in the sink. “It tastes funny.”
    “That’s because you were sick, you need to rinse your mouth.” He filled another cup with water and she rinsed. Next, he handed her the first cup. “Now drink.”
    Claire nodded and did as he said.
    “We need to get you out of these filthy clothes.”
    As he tugged at her dress, she reacted violently, trying with all of her might to get away from him and out of the bathroom. Her screams echoed above the hum of the engines. It was like in the hotel when the drug first entered her system; however, this time, Tony didn’t need to worry about anyone else hearing.
    Blocking the door, he let her have her tantrum. Her fight intrigued him. The blows to his chest with her tiny fists were almost comical, but when she tried to scratch, he had to make it stop. He had meetings and work. Scratches would be questioned. “That’s enough!” She didn’t stop. Her nails contacted his arm and blood trickled from their trail. Seizing her hand, he slapped her. “Stop it!”
    The shock showed behind her clouded eyes as she covered her face, allowing one hand to linger on her now red cheek. In a way, it was humorous; she was naked, hysterical, and attacking him—and she seemed surprised he’d retaliate.
    He leaned over her quaking body. “Get in the shower—now.” When she didn’t move, he reached for her arm and pulled her under the water. Although fully clothed, he joined her in the small cubical and held her under the streaming water until the fighting stopped.
    Within minutes, the drug was once again in control, and Tony was directing her movements. With trembling hands, she obeyed, removing his wet clothes and following each command. Her fight was gone. The fire he’d momentarily seen in her eyes was now detached terror.
    When he turned off the water, they were both clean. As Claire huddled against the shower wall, Tony contemplated his next move. There were so many possibilities; he told himself to take it slow. His plan had been in place for too long; he wanted to savor every moment.
    Stepping into the small bathroom, he added his wet clothes to the pile containing her ruined dress and handed her a towel. Apprehensively, she took his offer and wrapped it around herself. Her long, dark hair dripped down her back as the water puddled on the floor.
    Without looking up, she asked, “Are you going to hurt me?”
    He’d read about the GHB. He knew these scenes would be forever erased from her memory. He could do whatever he wanted, and she’d never remember.
    The sensual tone of seduction was gone; in its place was the authoritative tone of someone with an agenda. Tony refused to allow her fear or emotions to alter his plans. “That isn’t my plan. We’ll see how well you can follow directions.”
    Tony pulled on the edge of Claire’s towel as she stepped back against the wall. Her clouded eyes opened wide and quickly looked away. He wondered if she could subconsciously fight the effects of the drug. He watched as she worked to form the right words. Finally, she mumbled, “Please.”
    He stepped closer, his nude body still wet and his desire visible. “Please, what?”
    “Please, don’t hurt