The Brea In

Warning: This story depicts rape and may upset readers. Do not continue if this may cause you undue stress.

1.

In most suburbs, people go about their life without a bother. That wasn't our case. Sometime's, danger takes a stroll into quiet neighborhoods.

The sound was coming from the front of the house, Tildy heard it first rousing her from her sleep. She nudged her sleeping husband, Paul. As he woke, immediately became apprehensive, there it was again! He looked at his frightened wife, he signaled with his hand to remain quiet. He got up and reached into the nightstand, lifted a false bottom and produced a handgun. A Ruger.44 revolver. He crept to the bedroom door which was barely ajar; his gun leading the way. The sounds were getting closer. He was right at the door when it swung violently open, knocking the pistol from his hand. The dark figure at the door quickly kicked him in the stomach, collapsing his body.

"In here" the stranger called out in a only slightly raised voice. Tildy froze, the stranger in a mask reached down and started lifting Paul, then a second masked man rushed in, saw the downed husband and rushed to the bed. Tildy suddenly started to scream...too late! He grabbed her face, stifling the scream. He magically produced duct tape and quickly wrapped it around her mouth, then started wrapping her hands and feet. A third man in a mask had entered, helping the first intruder duct tape Paul. The two lifted him, and tossed him on the bed alongside the wife.

"Where's the safe?" the first asked, his own gun pointing at the couple.

Both Paul and Tildy shook their heads.

"Where is it?" the man growled

Both shook their heads even more rapidly.

Leaning in, the leader made it very clear he wanted to know the location of the safe and combination. "If you don't start talking, I'm going to let my boys have their way with your wife...and make you watch!"

Both started shaking their heads desperately. Their eyes pleading, while their muffled voices pleaded they did not have a safe.

The leader looked at his men, a hardened resolve came over them. "Have it your way then."

One of the burglar's started grabbing Tildy, pulling her legs open, and yanking at her pj's. Her screams were muffled as were his yells.

"Hang on", said the leader, the men stopped their assault. "If you don't have a safe, where are your valuables? Jewelry, watches, pearls?" Paul's eyes' immediately looked at her jewelry box on the chest of drawers. It was about 1.5 feet wide, and 3/4 of a foot tall. A lot of the jewelry was costume jewelry, but the actual jewelry was insured at close to $10,000.

"Right. That's a good sport."

One of the men grabbed it and ran into what could be guessed was the living room. Tildy and Paul were so grateful the kids were out of the house, and staying with the grandparents.

The man returned, and shrugged his shoulders in a 'what now' sort of gesture.

"Now, about our fun..." his voice was menacing.

One of them started manhandling her. The other two dragged Paul away and duct taped him to the chair where Tildy did her make up. Once they had him bound, they went to bed to join in. Tildy thrashed about and resisted as much as she could, but they were three men and she was one woman. They pulled her legs apart, one of them spitting on his fingers and rubbing her pussy, The others were grabbing her tits, and not in a gentle loving way. The leader was the first to mount her, by this time her pj's had been ripped off. He shoved her protesting legs apart, and placed his dick at her entrance and started shoving it in. She pulled away as much as she could, but with two men holding her down, she couldn't go far. Once he was in, he started thrusting into her, not worried about her pleasure. He fucked her as he wanted.

When he was approaching his climax, he noticed she wasn't fighting as much. Maybe she had given up? He was licking her neck, and biting her nipples and before he came, he was very aware she was rocking with him. Her crying was mixed with moans. Finished, he got up and was replaced by one of the other two. He dropped his pants and did the same as the leader had done.

The second man found her more pliable. Her tears and crying weren't not so pronounced anymore. This man, thicker than the leader was, rolling his hips, hitting pelvic bone hitting her clit. He must have been hitting her g-spot as well, because her moans were noticeably different now. He was banging with a greater power than the leader, and she arched her back and started shaking with a powerful climax. Shortly after her orgasm, he started pumping his seed into her as well. She wasn't crying anymore, but had her face turned to the side, eyes far away. Her lips were trembling, but it was hard to tell if she was sobbing or climaxing again. The third met little resistance; the men noticed she raised her legs a bit for easier entry. This man was a jackrabbit and far faster than the other two. Her moans were clearly her enjoying her pussy being used like a masturbation sleeve. She started shaking shortly after he entered her, and juices sprayed out. She orgasmed again minutes later, and then again just as he also made a deposit in her.

The men satiated, started getting ready to leave. She curled up in a ball, the duct tape had chaffed her wrists and ankles. As the leader looked around the room for a last minute check, he called to his men. "Look at this pervert, he's hard as a rock!"

Paul and Tildy heard laughter as the men walked away. Paul immediately started thrashing in the chair, eventually ripping some of the duct tape. Once he had a hand free, he was able to get the rest off. He lunged to his wife, consoling her. He grabbed his phone and called the police. He continued to console her as he answered all their questions.

2.

The neighbors watched the show as police cars were parked in front of their house. There was an ambulance, and they carted her out in a stretcher. Police walked in and out of their house. An older man, in his 40's was questioning the husband. He had a sport coat, and the neighbors took him to be a detective. Crime scene investigators had materials in plastic ziploc bags, clearly tagged and marked. While the crime scene went about its routine, Tildy and Paul had dead stares. Paul's hand was holding her's, but it was time for them to take her to the hospital. The detective rode with them, still asking questions of Paul. He knew from experience, now was not the time to ask her questions.

They reached the hospital in short order, and she was given a rape kit. It was sent to the crime lab as soon as it was done and given top priority. Eventually, it was just Paul, Tildy and the detective in her room. He had a gravel laden voice, it carried authority and gravitas with great concern as he consoled her, and asked if she remembered anything useful they could use.

She shook her head. "They were masked, I couldn't see them." Fresh tears springing from her. His routine questions gave way to her sobs.

"Okay, try to get some rest. I know it seems impossible, but someday this will all be in your past. The next 24 hours are crucial. After that the chances drop. I will need you to give me a list of the stolen items, as best as you can." looking at Paul.

"I keep records of our purchases, I'll look around as soon as I get home."

"Speed is of the essence. If you kept receipts or have serial numbers it will help us put that out to all the local pawn shops. I think we'll notify them county wide and surrounding counties. That's our best chance of catching one of them. They usually start talking and give up the rest."

"I'll go home right now.."

"No, stay here with your wife. She needs you right now. But do that first thing when you get home."

The detective approached the bed, and gently took Tildy's hand in his calloused hand. "I need you to stay strong. Our best chance of catching these men might hinge on something you remember. I know you aren't ready to talk, but I'll be back later to..."

"One of them had blue eyes," she suddenly spoke. "I think the leader. One of them had bad breath." He gently gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Then he quickly wrote it down. Tildy had taken the first step to regaining control.

"...DMV records for blue eyed men, we'll say 25-35. Cross reference dental records for patients with Halitosis.." he mumbled.

Tildy squeezed his hand, tears started pouring out. "Please swear to me you will catch them! Detective..."

"Roberts. I'll do my best. The first 24 hours are crucial, he reminded them both."

For the first time since the attack, Tildy felt a ray of hope. In the days and weeks ahead, she would associate that gravel voice with safety and security.

3.

As the sun crested the hills, and night became day, Tildy had finally been able to fall asleep. Paul, haggard and tired, caught a Lyft home, and started an inventory. He was able to quickly create a list of the stolen items. He went to the file cabinet in the home office, and started pulling the receipts. He looked through other files and found manufacturer papers that had serial numbers. Paul felt guilty being at home when he should be at the hospital with Tildy. But he reasoned, she was sleeping and he needed to be proactive for her. Once he compiled the list, he quickly showered and got dressed. He grabbed an overnight bag and filled it with clothing from Tildy's side of the closet. He also grabbed various sundries like deodorant, toothbrushes, etc.

He found his keys, and drove to the hospital. He ignored the neighbors out early walking their dogs. As Paul walked into Tildy's room, Det. Roberts was there holding Tildy's hand. When this is over, I'm going to buy him a beer, thought Paul. He heard a voice that could narrate cowboy movies gently talking to his wife.

"The worst is over, you are safe and we are on high alert. An APB has been posted and all local law enforcement is prioritizing this. Next, I need to advise you and your husband to seek counseling sooner rather than later. Your peace of mind will return, but it's going to be a difficult road back to some kind of normal. They can help with that." his barrel chest intoned.

"Thank you Det. Roberts, I will try to remember that." She failed at trying to smile.

"Do you think you can answer some questions now? Time is of the essence," he comforted her.

"I'll try."

"Are there any other details you can remember?"

"It was dark, and it happened so fast. But I remember the masks were those woolen kind. They cut the eyes and mouth out."

Paul had walked around the bed to the other side and took her other hand. He chimed in, "They were wearing work clothes. Flannel shirts, the pants were work pants, heavy material."

Roberts kept writing in his notepad.

"They were about Paul's height," Tildy spoke up.

"The leader was slightly older than the other two, but I don't think by much." Paul added.

"Why do you say that?"

"They seemed to listen to him without hesitation."

"That's good. We can look for work sites, construction, etc. They most likely called in sick today. Probably trying to lay low." Roberts thought out loud.

He motioned to the police officer at the door, and gave him a paper. "Radio this in."

The officer walked out to the hallway, and they could hear him reading out the notes to his walkie-talkie. There was a squelch followed by a "copy".

"I hate to repeat myself, but is there anything else you can remember?"

Paul handed him the list of missing items. He had a list on a spreadsheet, with purchase prices and matching serial numbers for the items that had them.

"Giant screen TV, two iPads, a revolver, a Macbook Pro, a Jewelry box." He folded the paper and put it in his pocket. He gave them his business card and told them to call him right away if they remembered anything.

"Give me a quick call, so I have your number. I might need to contact you." he said to Paul.

He turned to Tildy, gave her a grandfatherly look, "I know this has been extremely difficult, but you're doing as good as you can. Take strength in knowing that you can and will get through this." Then he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

Tildy felt a wave of comfort wash through her. She added his cologne to his voice as things she associated him with safety and security.

4.

Eight hours after the assault, she was cleared by the hospital to return home. The doctor walked them through what they could expect in the near future. He showed her a 'morning after pill' and a small bottle with more.

"We gave you one of these when you arrived last night. Take one a day for the next six days to avoid an unwanted pregnancy. You were given a pelvic exam after the rape kit was completed; there are no injuries to your vaginal wall. Any pain you feel would be consistent with experiencing 'rough sex'. Here is information to help you cope with rape. In this case, I advise both of you to follow up with counseling. Do you have any questions?"

Both shook their heads numbly, with exhausted eyes.

The drive home was long and silent. Tildy was rolled up into a ball in the passenger seat. When they got home, Paul carried her inside. He was starting to walk towards the bedroom, when suddenly shook her head.

"No! The couch" she pleaded

He did as he asked. Setting her down, Paul noted in the back of his mind that this was part of the trauma. Once she was resting he got a blanket from the hallway closet, covering her. She was already asleep. Paul, as tired as he was, walked into the bedroom and looked around. The duct tape was gone, taken as evidence. The bed sheets were crumpled up, as he removed them he saw the stains of the mens discharge. A red hot anger started boiling up in him. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He could not afford to get emotional now. Drying himself, he grabbed the defiled linens. Rather than take them to the washer, he walked outside and dumped them in his BBQ grill. He doused them with lighter fluid and set them on fire.

When he walked back inside, he heard his wife whimpering. He strode over, and tried to comfort her. She pulled away from him, instinctively. It's the trauma he told himself. He spoke to her in a low voice. "Your home, you're safe."

Her breathing became more regular, and he saw her body relax a little. He went to the kitchen and made some oatmeal. He could feel his body wanting to stop, but he had things to do. He called his grandparents, asking if they could keep the kids for the rest of the week. He assured them he would drive over extra clothes and their school supplies as soon as he could. Next, he looked through the information packets the doctor had given them. There was a rape crisis hotline, and a phamphlet that contained rape/assault counseling. He looked at the list, and found the therapist closest to them. He arranged a visit for the next day. Lastly, he called his home owners insurance and began the process for filing a claim for the stolen items.

He finished his oatmeal, and sat in the recliner next to the couch, and promptly fell asleep.

5.

He woke up to his cell phone chime. He looked, it was a text from Det. Roberts. His pistol had been recovered, found tossed in a vacant lot, still loaded. It was followed by another text saying so far every construction site was reporting all workers were present. They were branching out to shipyards, auto repair shops, factories, etc.

Shortly after, he could hear Tildy waking up. He checked on her, asking if she needed or wanted some aspirin. She declined. "Can I start the shower for you then?"

"Yes, that might help a bit." she said quietly.

He helped her up, and walked with her. He told her all the steps he had taken, including scheduling with a therapist. She nodded. He paused, not sure if he should tell her about the texts from Det. Roberts, but decided full disclosure was best.

"Det. Roberts texted they found my gun dumped in a parking lot. So far, local construction workers are all accounted for, but he's widening the search.

"Lot of good that gun did."

Paul didn't respond, he reminded himself it was the trauma talking. He took her to the hallway bathroom and ran the water. He felt if she wasn't ready to go in the bedroom, she certainly wasn't ready to go into the master bath. After she walked into the shower, Paul got her a change of clothes from the bedroom closet. He picked out some underwear she considered comfy, not sexy for obvious reasons. He got her sweatpants she wore when she wanted to lounge around the house. He also found his old college sweatshirt she liked to wear. He set them by the sink, and took the clothes she had been wearing, and put them in the hamper.

He was sitting on the couch, he had tried to distract himself but realized it wasn't the wisest choice. Waiting for her to finish, he ran through his mind everything that happened. Nothing popped out that Det. Roberts might find it useful. She walked out in her frumpy outfit, and sat next to him, but she was looking away, far away. She scooted over closer to him, and brought up her legs under her thighs, then leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. It was the first positive sign since the attack. They sat there, not saying anything, after all, what was there to say? Paul leaned his head onto hers, they both closed their eyes at the same time.

They sat there for a spell, letting time pass.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Det. Roberts!" They echoed each other.

She sat up, but kept her feet under her lap. Paul was at the front door in no time. Sure enough, we walked back into the living room with Det. Roberts. She smiled when she saw him, a weak faint smile, but still a smile. Both men, unbeknownst to each other, thought 'that's a good sign'.

"We don't have much yet, but here's what we do have. Approximately 8% of the population have blue eyes, eliminating women from the DMV searches, that brings the number to about 126,800 for our county. They most likely live locally, but we are expanding to neighboring counties. Those names are being filtered, eliminating professionals, and other non-menial labor categories. The halitosis is less of a lead, but still something. Now, the tough love part. We believe they got in through the side gate, fairly easy to reach over and pop the latch to get into the walkway to the backyard. That brings us to the side door. It's a cheap lock. It's not nearly as solid as the front and back door. A common mistake made by most homeowners. A strong man could twist the lock enough to get the bolt back enough to force the door. And the forensics team last night say the damage to the door is consistent with that theory. Also, you have no security system. There is no reason to think they will return, but both of those issues should be resolved as soon as possible."

Both took in the information. They were reassured how busy the investigation was going, but both realized it wasn't a lot of information.

"Okay," Tildy finally spoke. "Anything else?"

The frown that appeared told them it wasn't good news.

"The newspaper has gotten wind of what happened. They don't know your names or your address," he quickly added "but any reporter worth his salt knows emergency services were called to this neighborhood. Any gossipy neighbor could let it slip; it was this house."

"Recommendations?" Paul injected.

"If you know or are close with your neighbors, you should reach out and ask them not to talk." However, his frown deepened. "Some reporters may have contacts with ambulance services or know a cop. So, you should prepare by having a statement prepared. You don't have to, but I find reporters who don't get some kind of comment will continue to try to get one."

Tildy sighed, closing her eyes and a few tears leaked out.