Rogue

by Izzy Gomez

  His chest rumbled again. He was laughing at her? Jerk.

  "OK. I won't say I love you." He ran his hand up and down her arm. It raised goosebumps of pleasure and should have soothed her, but she still couldn't let herself relax.

  "How about I say I care about you a great deal, and we'll leave it at that?"

  There could be worse things in life than Greg Cole loving her. But even if he did, she couldn't stand hearing the words right now. "Fair enough."

  They lay in silence for a long time. Gradually his caresses grew longer. Slid down her back. Over her butt. Along the backs of her thighs. His touch morphed from soothing to arousing.

  Her body grew heavier, her breath lighter. Her tension shifted. When she looked up, his eyes were unfocused, a faint smile on his lips.

  "Let's forget all that right now," he whispered.

  Forget. Yes, please. "Sounds perfect."

  His kiss was heartbreakingly tender. Tears welled in her eyes but she forced them back. She would not let Todd or Karen or Hank or Dad or herself ruin this moment. She'd asked Greg not to say what he felt in words, so he was using his kiss.

  And she would do the same. She didn't know how to voice her feelings. But she could show him. With the way she stroked his skin. The way her hands lingered as they trailed down his back. The way she responded when he played with her nipples.

  The way she cried his name when he took her in his mouth.

  She'd never been much of a breast person, but clearly it was because she'd never had the right person touch her. When he stroked his tongue and teeth over her skin, she arched her back off the bed. He slid his hand down her belly and eased her back to the mattress.

  "Relax." His breath across her wet skin sent tingles down her spine.

  Oh, sure. Relax. No problem.

  He spent entirely too long on her breasts. Licking and sucking and stroking and making her moan. She squirmed and wriggled and–damn him–begged. And when she was about to reach the point of doing something drastic, he finally took pity on her.

  He rolled to his back, pulled her on top of him and handed her a condom.

  Oh. Well. Guess it was time for that, then.

  She started to open the packet but got stuck when she looked into his eyes. Got lost in the deep, dark blue. At some point the sun had set outside and he'd turned on the bedside lamp. Shadows stretched across his face, emphasizing his features. She let herself hover in those eyes as she traced her finger along his jaw. Stubble tickled her fingertip.

  He covered her hand with his and turned his head to press a kiss to her palm. Drew a small circle with his tongue, sending shivers up her arm. She wriggled, which only served to catch her right where it mattered. She couldn't stop a moan, and wriggled again.

  His hips shifted in answer and he reached for the condom she'd almost forgotten.

  She pulled her hand out of his reach. "No. I get to play."

  "You better hurry or there won't be much to play with." His words came out through a tight jaw.

  She grinned–what kind of man was he that he could make her grin when her life was chaos?–and wrapped her fingers around him. Thick, but not too thick. Hot and hard and electric in her palm. She stroked gently, teasing. His eyes closed and his head tilted back. Behind her, she could hear his legs shifting against the sheets.

  She continued stroking as she began rocking against him. The pleasure approached too good. Just…a little…longer…and she would…

  "Dammit, give me that." He grabbed the condom, tore it open and had it on before she could react.

  In the next second she was on her back and he plunged deep.

  Their eyes connected as he reached the hilt. Time stopped. Nothing existed except her and Greg and the way he touched her. She couldn't have looked away if her life depended on it.

  When she couldn't stand the pressure building in her chest any longer–to say nothing of the pressure between her legs–she closed her eyes and let herself go. She thrust her hips up at him; he thrust back.

  He set up a gentle rhythm. Slow, sensual, almost lazy. None of the frenzy of their previous two joinings.

  Despite the languor, it didn't take long for her to reach the peak. Her orgasm swelled up from deep inside, as relaxed as their lovemaking. It rolled through her and left her boneless.

  Picking up speed, he slid a hand between them and brought her back to the edge. The second time was short and intense and barely left her enough energy to hold on as he surged into her one last time. He groaned into her neck and went rigid.

  Long moments later he collapsed to the side and pulled her with him. She curled into him and let herself relax. For tonight, she was safe, even if it was temporary.

  The ping of her cell phone, indicating a text message, reminded her how temporary her escape was. The cocoon they'd built was a fantasy.

  She sat up but Greg caught her shoulder. "Not yet."

  The invitation in his eyes was too much to resist so she settled back into his embrace. But she could no longer relax.

  Todd was still out there. Until they found him, safety and intimacy would remain an illusion.

  "You be careful, Detective." Danny Chang, proprietor of Danny's Hunan, waved as Amanda headed for the door with her bag of take-out.

  "Thanks, Mr. Chang." She waved back. She and Gabby had been regulars at Danny's since high school.

  They were overdue for some greasy Chinese food and a few chick flicks. She'd picked up a bottle of wine; maybe after a few glasses Gabby would open up a little.

  The second Amanda opened her car door, she knew something wasn't right. Nothing she could put her finger on, but the energy in the air was off. Wrong. Danny's parking lot had never felt unsafe before but now the lack of light and the row of trees sent a chill racking up her spine.

  She reached for her gun but a hand wrapped around her wrist before she got to it.

  "I wouldn't do that." Todd's voice was low and menacing, his mouth next to her ear. He twisted her arm and something sharp jabbed her bicep.

  Cold flooded her arm, the opposite of a hot flash. The world grew fuzzy. She tried to pull away and stumbled. "What are you doing?" Dumb question. She knew the answer.

  She didn't have a chance for the fear her brain told her she should feel. Spinning, the world dimmed like a movie screen fading at the end of a scene.

  Everything went black.

  Chapter 25

  Consciousness returned in fits and starts. Amanda surfaced on her living room couch, then faded out.

  In again. She couldn't lift her eyelids.

  One of the cats was sharpening his nails on the recliner. Damn felines, they knew they weren't supposed to do that. She opened her mouth to scold them but couldn't make her tongue work.

  Back out.

  In. This time, her eyes opened. Aristotle groomed himself next to her, preparing for a nap. Perfectly calm. Like it was normal for Todd to sit in her recliner. Which it was.

  The difference was the rope binding her ankles. The handcuffs on her wrists. The gun pointing at her.

  He had a gun. A familiar Smith and Wesson MP40. She wriggled her elbow, feeling for her own weapon on the off chance he hadn't taken it.

  "You really think I'd leave your gun on you?" The weapon wobbled in Todd's hand, as if it were too heavy. Still, even an unsteady gun at this range could do serious damage.

  Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit. Fucking God dammit.

  No one knew where she was. She told Greg she was going to Gabby's, but Gabby hadn't answered her phone. So Amanda sent a text saying she was getting Chinese and coming over. Who knew if Gabby actually got the text? Even if she had, Amanda hadn't specified a time. Gabby would assume Amanda was running late at work. No one would look for her at her house.

  Dammit.

  Amanda's mind trickled back to her, gradually putting the pieces together. Given her brother held a gun on her with an expression as bland as if they were discussing the latest celebrity gossip, she didn't necessarily want
her mental faculties back. But she'd need them to get out of this.

  Unfortunately, her physical abilities were significantly hindered. Besides her arms and legs being bound, her limbs still felt heavy. Whatever he'd given her–which, as an anesthesiologist could have been anything–must work longer on the body than the brain.

  For the moment, she had no choice but to wait to see what he had in mind for her. And form a plan.

  She rolled her hips back and forth, trying to feel for her cell phone in her back pocket.

  Todd held it up. "Got that too."

  Why had she told him so many tricks of the trade over the years? Oh right. She hadn't thought he'd turn into a lunatic and use them against her.

  He set the phone on the coffee table and picked up her favorite knife. The santoku had a nice heft and fit perfectly in her hand. Sliced through even the toughest meats like they were air. And she kept it honed to a perfect edge. Sharp enough to be effective with the lightest touch.

  The fear simmering in her gut erupted into rage. He would not use her prized knife against her. He could take her gun, he could take her phone, he could take her handcuffs. He could even break into her house and she would let it go. But no one touched her knives. Especially the santoku.

  "Put. That. Down."

  His smile gave no hint of the Todd she remembered. It was cold and unhinged. "I don't think so. I've gotten almost as good as you at using these." He nodded at the gun. "Can't say I've ever fired one of those. Except at that stupid camp Karen used to ship me off to so I'd be out of her way for the summer. That was a BB gun, but how hard can it be? This close, I'm sure I'll hit something important."

  With a .40? He'd hit something important, all right. Her.

  "Watching you cook is what gave me the idea. To use knives, I mean."

  Sickness rolled through her, leaving a bitter taste in her throat. She wanted no part of his lunacy.

  "That and spending my days watching people get cut up. I can’t believe they pay me to do that."

  "You're already looking at three murder charges and a rape. Not to mention all the drugs you stole from the hospital." She made her voice more stern and steady than her position called for. If she acted like she had the upper hand, it would buy her time until she could figure out a way out of this clusterfuck.

  "Assaulting a police officer and holding her against her will is not incidental either." Not to mention the very real and very scary possibility he was about to do more than just assault her.

  "I didn't rape anyone." His lip curled, his nose wrinkled and his face twisted to such an exaggerated degree, if he'd been anyone else in any other circumstances, it would have been comical.

  Instead, it was surreal. And terrifying. "Are you so delusional you've forgotten what you did to Gabby?" Icy perspiration danced down her spine, spreading a chill outward.

  "That wasn't rape." His lip twitched. He looked like an insane rabbit.

  His expression and the absurdity of him not raping Gabby made her laugh. Pure hysteria, without a shred of humor. "No, you forced yourself on her and sliced her up. Ladies love that."

  "She needed persuading."

  Hatred surged through her and her body tried to stand before her mind remembered she couldn't. She toppled back to the couch. Dammit dammit dammit. "Persuading to do what? Bleed? Take a vacation to the hospital?" On the plus side, her legs were working again. Sort of.

  "Because of that whore Dad married, I embarrassed myself in front of Gabby. I had to show her I'm a man."

  Amanda pressed her fists into her gut–at least he’d bound her hands in front—as some of her anger deflated. No matter what he'd done, part of her still ached for the boy who'd been abused. If they could go back and help him, maybe none of this would have happened. But that was true for most people she arrested.

  And it was a moot point. Her time machine was in the shop for repairs. "Yeah, you're such a man. Forcing yourself on a woman who doesn't want you."

  "She wanted me!" He waved the knife, his hold dangerously loose.

  OK, time to take it down a notch. No need to provoke the homicidal maniac. "OK, calm down. No need to do anything drastic." Too late.

  "She was going to help me. She said she'd give me money to get out of town." He continued gesturing with the knife but at least he'd settled back into the chair. He didn't look like he'd accidentally throw it anymore.

  "But she wouldn't come with me. I got mad. Maybe I was a little too rough."

  "A little too rough is leaving a bruise on her wrist. You stabbed her. Multiple times. You punched her hard enough to lacerate her spleen."

  "I told you, she made me angry." He sounded like a petulant child whining because his sister got the bigger piece of cake.

  It was pointless to argue that stabbing someone was not a sane reaction to anger. Al pissed her off on a daily basis and she'd yet to stab him.

  Part of her would never be able to reconcile the man in front of her with the man she'd known.

  "She should have come with me. I would have taken care of her. I would have loved her."

  This was so fucked up. Had his failure with Gabby triggered his final break with reality? Gabby could never, ever find that out. Gabby would blame herself for the fiasco. Even if their night together had set off Todd's rampage, it was years in the making. He was the one to blame.

  Time to get off the topic of Gabby. "Why the cleaning lady? What did she have to do with any of it?" If Amanda had to sit here, helpless until she could think of a way out, she might as well get information.

  Todd laughed. "You think this is some badly written movie where I'm going to tell you everything, because you asked? Aren't you the one who told me it never works like that in real life?"

  So much for that. "Can't blame a girl for trying."

  "And I would have gotten away with it, too," he said in a fake old man voice, shaking his finger at her like a character on Scooby Doo, "if it weren't for you meddling sisters."

  Regret plowed through her, brutal and swift. They’d often watched Scooby Doo together. Damn him for referencing it. "Give me that much. I need to understand. Hank and Karen, I get why you think you had to kill them. But what did Martina Ryder ever do?"

  "If I tell you, will you help me?"

  Not a chance. "Maybe."

  He shrugged, expression nonchalant. "She was supposed to clean on Wednesdays. I made sure Karen couldn't make a sound." His eyes darkened and his lip curled again. "But she showed up Thursday. She saw me."

  "So you went to her house and killed her?" Chilling. Killing Karen and Hank at least held some element of passion. People who'd tortured him his whole life. But killing Martina Ryder was calculated. It underscored how far ‘round the bend he truly was. At this point, it shouldn’t surprise her. She should know her big brother was gone.

  Stupid hope, hanging around where it didn't belong.

  "It was her own fault. She would have told someone. If she'd stuck to her schedule, she'd be alive."

  "So she was collateral damage?" She mocked his casual tone.

  His face lit up and he leaned toward her. "Exactly. I knew you'd get it."

  Oh, she got it. Got that he was a complete fucking lunatic.

  "So you'll help me?"

  For a second, he was the old Todd. Face warm and open and eager. Behind his glasses, his eyes lit as he waited for her response. She ached to reach out and touch him. Hug him one last time. Let the illusion be real, if only for a moment.

  But it was just that: an illusion. He was eager and open. To her helping him get away with murder.

  "You have to help me, Amanda."

  "No. I don't."

  "You just said you would."

  "No. I didn't."

  "I'm your brother." His voice turned low and menacing.

  She wouldn't be intimidated. He may hold all the cards right now, but to the depths of her soul, she knew she would find a way to get out of this and make things right. "Not anymore. My brother is gone."


  His face twisted in rage. "You helped that little bastard Hank but you won't help me?"

  "That was a mistake. One I won't repeat." She'd almost managed to forget what she'd done for Hank when he was in college and she was a rookie. Now it had come up twice in twenty-four hours. Another line on the long list of ways her life was flailing out of control.

  "Besides, Hank was smoking pot and selling a little to his friends. Yes, I should have turned him in, but in the grand scheme of things, not a big deal. You killed three people." And raped another, but no sense revisiting Gabby. "That’s hardly on the same level."

  "You hated Hank. You love me."

  "Not anymore. The Todd I loved is gone." The words came out matter-of-fact, giving no indication of how saying them shredded her emotionally.

  "Stop saying that!"

  She barely had time to blink before he lunged.

  She braced for the concentrated bite of a knife and so was taken off guard when his fist connected with her cheek. Pain vibrated through her skull, rattling her teeth.

  Her head whipped back and hit the arm of the sofa, wrenching her neck. Her vision dimmed and she fought for consciousness. Aristotle hissed, then jumped off the couch and disappeared. Some guard cat he was. She should have gotten a big dog.

  Todd swung again and she managed to lift her arms and block the blow.

  "This isn't my fault!" he screamed. "She did this to me!"

  He was punching blindly now, his arms landing uselessly against hers. Her face stung and she'd have a hell of a bruise–dammit, the last one had finally healed–but after the initial blow, he wasn't inflicting damage.

  He'd been working out. He’d always been scrawny, but his weight on top of her had substance now. He’d been planning all this for a long time.

  She braced herself against the shiver that ripped through her.

  "Why are you taking her side? You hated her too."

  "I didn't like her but that doesn't mean I wanted her murdered." She rolled away to avoid a slap. "God dammit, Todd. Knock it off."

  It felt more like arguing with her annoying older brother than a killer. If only.