Love you to Death

by Shannon K. Butcher

  Trent kissed her again. There were no other options. If he didn’t get another taste of her, he simply wasn’t going to survive. And as soon as he was done with her mouth, he was going to find all those other sweet spots he was dying to taste.

  Elise gave as good as she got, while her slender fingers worked at the waistband of his jeans. She didn’t bother pushing them down, just slid her fingers inside and wrapped them around his throbbing cock.

  Trent nearly came right there and pressed his forehead to hers while he sucked in huge breaths of air in an effort to regain some control. They didn’t help. It had been too long since he’d taken care of his body’s needs, and he was on a hair trigger.

  Before it was too late, he gathered her hands and picked her up. He wasn’t going to do this on the shabby carpet. Not with Elise. He didn’t have silk sheets or anything fancy, but at least the bed was clean and comfortable and wouldn’t rub her back raw once he got her under him.

  He laid her down on his bed. She looked like an offering, her skin glowing against the navy-blue sheets. A rosy flush had spread across her chest, and her nipples were stiff, dark peaks that made his mouth water.

  Trent didn’t trust himself enough to lose his shorts yet, but he toed off his shoes, shed his jeans, and lay down next to her.

  She reached for him, but he captured her hands and held them at bay while he looked his fill. She was quivering, and her eyes were a deep, slumberous green. He’d never seen anything half as sexy as she was right now.

  “Are you going to tease me all night?” she asked.

  “No. Just for a few more minutes.”

  He cupped her breast and watched her eyes flutter shut. She arched her back toward him, letting out a soft, sweet sigh.

  She refused to be held still, and her clever hands escaped his grip, only to pull his hand down her body to where she wanted him to touch her. Trent was gentleman enough to oblige, parting the soft curls to find her slick and hot. He slid one finger inside her, feeling the tight clench of muscles grip him like a glove.

  A shiver coursed through her, and she clamped her thighs together, trapping his hand.

  Trent flicked his tongue across her distended nipple, and she sucked in a hissing breath. Her hips writhed, taking his hand along for the ride. Her fingernails bit into his arm, clinging to him like a lifeline. A high, needy noise rose up in her, then was suddenly cut off as she held her breath.

  A climax rolled through her body, shaking her with the force of it. Trent was right there with her, keeping her riding high with his fingers between her thighs and his mouth on her breast.

  He was about ready to come himself, just watching her, when she began to relax and ease back down.

  It was the single most sexiest thing he’d ever witnessed, and he was already dying to see it again.

  “I’m sorry,” she panted.

  “Don’t be.” He didn’t sound like himself. His voice was too rough and thick, but she seemed to understand his words.

  She opened her eyes and stared up at him. “It’s been a long time for me. I couldn’t seem to stop it.”

  Boy, did he understand that. “I don’t mind. Really.”

  Elise’s smile was full of womanly intent. “Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Thank God. I’m about to explode here.”

  “Well, then,” she said as she moved to all fours, with those sexy heels sticking out behind her, “why don’t you put on a condom and I’ll show you a really nice time.”

  Condom. Right. He had those somewhere.

  He scrambled to look in his bedside drawer and there they were—four of them, which was probably enough to make a dent in his serious case of lust for Elise.

  Some kind of warning went off in the back of his mind, but she was holding her hand out for them, smiling at him like he was something good to eat.

  There was no way Trent was going to last if he let her slide one of those rubbers over his hard-on, so he shucked his shorts and tore the first pack open with his teeth, ready to do the job himself.

  That’s when he saw it. The expiration date. They’d expired. A year ago.

  A shout of denial rose out of him until he thought the top of his head would blow off.

  “What?” she asked, frowning in concern.

  “Expired.”

  She grabbed up the wrapper. “Really expired. It’s been awhile for you, huh?”

  “Unfortunately, a really long while.”

  Trent flopped down onto the bed and covered his eyes with his arm. He couldn’t look at her like this knowing he couldn’t have her, and there was no way he was going to risk using a condom that was as likely to break as not. Even though he was disease-free, he didn’t see how she could do the job she loved while pregnant.

  He wouldn’t take her beloved job away from her. He knew how much that sucked.

  Her weight shifted on the bed, then he felt the warmth of her fingers slide down his abdomen and over his thighs.

  “You’re not helping,” he groaned.

  “Yes, I am. Just lie back and enjoy. We’re not going to need a condom for what I’m going to do to you.”

  Hope forced him to lift his arm and peek at her. She’d straddled his legs, gloriously naked and flushed from her own orgasm. All she wore was a satisfied smile and those strappy heels.

  “Oh yeah?” he forced himself to ask.

  She wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him slow and steady. “Oh yeah.”

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Shut up, Trent.”

  Trent shut up. He didn’t make another sound until he felt her lips slide over him, hot and slick, just like she’d been around his finger. The groan he let out was completely involuntary.

  For a woman who hadn’t been with a man in a long time, Elise had no trouble remembering what she was doing. Trent tried to hold out, tried to make the pleasure last as long as possible, but he was no match for Elise’s clever fingers and hot, suckling mouth.

  His body went tight, and his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a battering ram. Pleasure pounded through him, so intense it was nearly pain. The world fell away, leaving only Elise and the physical joy she wrung from his body. She stayed with him the whole time, stretching out every second of it.

  When it was over, Trent was a boneless pile of man, weak and spent. He used the last bit of his strength to pull Elise against his side and pin her there with one arm.

  He didn’t have the strength to explain to her that he wanted her right there, next to him, nor did he want to deal with any argument she might give. If she was here, he knew she was safe, and he needed to know that.

  If anything happened to her, he didn’t think he’d survive.

  Constance had a fever.

  Ashley had no idea what to do. She didn’t have any aspirin to give her, only the pain pills that barely seemed to work.

  Constance was bathed in sweat, shivering uncontrollably. Long, low moans of pain vibrated out of her chest, making Ashley sick with worry.

  She pressed a cool, wet cloth to Constance’s head. The woman flailed around, trying to bat it away with her hands, but there was now only one, and she bumped the bandaged stump against her cheek. A cry of agony ripped from her lungs, echoing off the concrete walls.

  Ashley went to the door and pounded on it, shouting for help. No one came.

  For the thousandth time, Ashley wished Elise was here. She would have known what to do. She was brilliant and brave. She wasn’t afraid of anything. Not even that monster Gary would have scared Elise.

  But Elise wasn’t here. Ashley had to deal with this on her own. Somehow.

  She wet a towel, stripped the blankets off Constance’s shivering body, and draped the towel over her. Constance jerked and hissed in a pained breath.

  “Cold,” was all she said.

  “I know. I know it’s cold, but we need to get your fever down.”

  “I need to go home.” Constance tried to push he
rself up, but her body was too weak to cooperate.

  Ashley felt helpless tears run down her face. She stroked the other woman’s forehead, hoping to calm her. “It’s okay, Constance. You’re home. I’m going to take good care of you.” The lie tasted like acid, burning her tongue, but what else could she do? She was trapped here, helpless.

  “I’m so cold.”

  Footsteps thudded out in the hallway, growing louder. Gary was coming back.

  Surely he’d see how bad Constance was and let her go to a hospital. Wouldn’t he?

  He unlocked the door and stepped inside. In one hand he had a tote stocked with manicure supplies. In the other, a handgun.

  “It’s time,” he said, holding the manicure kit out to Ashley.

  Fear had been with her so long, she hardly even noticed it anymore. It was simply a part of her, like her heart and lungs. She had no control over it. “Time for what?”

  “Time for you to paint her nails. Make her pretty.”

  “No, she’s too sick. Can’t you see that? She needs a hospital.”

  “You should have done a better job of taking care of her.”

  “I’m not a doctor,” Ashley nearly screamed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve got to get her help.”

  A sickening half smile tilted Gary’s mouth. “I’ll give her all the help she needs soon enough. I’ll even let you watch to make sure I do it right. I know how much you liked watching.”

  Not again. Ashley couldn’t go through that horror again. Neither could Constance.

  Ashley realized in that moment that everything Constance had told her was true. He wasn’t going to let Constance go. He wasn’t going to let either of them go. He was going to kill her, too.

  Gary lifted the gun, pointing it at Constance, then he lifted the manicure kit out to Ashley. “Do it.”

  The tiny part of her mind that had not yet accepted her fate started praying. Ashley stepped forward and took the handle of the kit, staring at the fingernail files and bright red polish as if it were a live snake.

  There was no way out of this. She had no weapons—even the fingernail files were made of cardboard, and despite what the airlines thought, clippers were not a weapon. She didn’t have the strength to take him on unarmed. She didn’t have the brains to find any other way out of this.

  All she could do now was make this as easy on Constance as possible.

  She took the shivering woman’s right hand and went to work. By the time she was done, both women had bright red smudges of nail polish all over them, but it was the best Ashley could do with her hands shaking like they were.

  “Good. Now help her up. We’re going back to the room.”

  He didn’t have to tell her which room.

  He’ll take your left hand, then your right.

  Constance hadn’t been lying.

  “Let me take her to the bathroom first. She hasn’t been all day.”

  “There’s no time.”

  “She’s probably going to wet all over the place. Do you really want to clean that up?”

  Disgust marred his handsome face for a moment. “Fine, but be quick.”

  Ashley bore most of Constance’s weight as she helped her into the bathroom. Gary didn’t even bother to object when she shut the door. He knew there was nothing either woman could do to stop him. He was in total control.

  Ashley eased Constance down onto the toilet, then took the bottle of pain pills from her pocket and counted them. Twelve.

  She wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough, but she had to try.

  She pushed several pills into Constance’s mouth and held a glass of water to her lips. “Drink, honey. It’ll all be over soon.”

  At least for one of them.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Elise had spoken to two abduction victims this morning and knew instantly that she wasn’t on the right track. Neither of the women’s kidnappers had been caught, and she thought that whoever had taken them might have taken Ashley, but she was wrong.

  The first woman had been abducted by a black man—clearly not the man in the photo—and the second woman by one of her old boyfriends. Elise had shown that woman the photo of the stalker in Ashley’s backyard, and she was positive that was not the man who’d taken her.

  She sat in her car, looking over the lists she’d made, wondering how many more dead ends she was going to hit before she found some kind of lead to go on. Her eyes kept going to the one anomaly—the missing woman whose hand had been found. Susan Maloney.

  Susan’s mother lived only a half hour away from where Elise was now. Maybe it was best to go speak to her just so Elise could move on. If she could rule out Susan’s kidnapper, then maybe she could also get the image of that headless, handless corpse out of her head.

  Yeah, right.

  Elise found Susan’s childhood home without any trouble. It was in an older, well-maintained neighborhood, with towering trees and perfect lawns. She got out of her car, walked up the flower-lined sidewalk, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

  She didn’t know if this woman was aware of the handless body in the Chicago morgue, but she knew she had to tell her, just in case it was her daughter lying there.

  A ragged woman opened the door. Her clothes were stained and wrinkled and her gray hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in a week. “Yes?” she said in a dry voice.

  “Are you Susan Maloney’s mother?” asked Elise.

  Her mouth tightened into a hard, angry ring, driving the blood from it. “No reporters.” She started to shut the door, but Elise slapped her hand against it to stop her.

  “I am a reporter, but that’s not why I’m here. My sister is missing. I need to speak to you.”

  The woman paused, on the edge of indecision.

  “Please. Just a few minutes.”

  Finally, the anger faded from Susan’s mother, leaving her looking deflated, like a month-old balloon. “Come in.”

  Elise stepped inside. It smelled stale in here, a little like old garbage, a lot like despair. Dust lay on every surface. Clearly, the outside of her home was kept up by a service, or it would have looked a lot more like the inside.

  She led Elise to her living room, which was filled with newspapers and stacks of unopened mail. She motioned for Elise to sit on the couch, so she sat.

  “My name is Elise McBride. My sister is Ashley.”

  The woman plopped down in a weary pile and nodded. “I saw you talking about her on the news. I’m sorry.”

  Elise swallowed back the wave of fear and grief that rose up in her throat. She needed to concentrate and make this as brief and painless for Mrs. Maloney as possible. “Can you tell me what happened to your daughter? I’ve read the articles online, but sometimes they leave things out—things only a mother would know.”

  Mrs. Maloney stared out the window. “Susan went missing last month. She went to work, left, and no one saw her again.”

  “Where did she work?”

  “The music store here in town. She teaches piano there. She’s always loved to play. I don’t know what she’ll do now, with only one hand.”

  Oh, God. Elise’s stomach twisted with sympathy for this woman, and guilt that she had to make her talk about it one more time. There was nothing she could say to make this any easier, any better, so she settled for, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Maloney.”

  “The police will find her.”

  “I’m sure they will.” Elise couldn’t bring herself to mention the body. It made her a coward, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be the one to put this woman through that.

  Mrs. Maloney dug in a box of tissues, found it empty. Elise pulled a travel pack out of her purse and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.”

  Elise nodded. “I know this is hard for you, and I hate to ask, but do you think you could look at a photo for me?” She unfolded the paper and handed it across the coffee table. “This is the man I think took Ashley. Do you recognize him?”

  Elis
e sat back as the woman stared at the picture, confident she’d hear what she’d heard all day—that Mrs. Maloney had never seen the man before.

  Instead, the woman started to shake. The paper fluttered around in her hand until Elise was sure she could no longer focus on the image.

  “I know him,” she whispered. “I saw him outside the music shop the day Susan went missing. I’d had lunch with her that day and was late for a doctor’s appointment. When I dropped her off, I was in such a hurry I almost backed into him. He was headed into the store.”

  A sick sense of panic welled up inside Elise. She didn’t want this woman to know the man in the photo. She didn’t want her sister’s disappearance tied to Susan Maloney and her severed hand.

  Whoever had taken Susan had hurt her. Elise couldn’t stand the thought of someone doing that to Ashley.

  She had to get out of here. She couldn’t stay any longer and witness this woman’s devastation. It was like seeing her own possible future—ragged, dirty, and full of despair.

  “Thank you for your time,” said Elise as she plucked the photo from Mrs. Maloney’s hands. She tossed her business card on the table. “Please feel free to have whoever’s working your daughter’s case call me.” Just not today. Please, God, not today.

  Elise had to absorb this new turn of events, adjust to it. She was standing on shaky ground, and the slightest upset would send her tumbling over the edge of grief and hopelessness.

  Ashley needed her to stay strong and keep her wits about her. It was the only way she was going to find her sister before it was too late—before there was more than one piece of Ashley to be found.

  On the way to her car, Elise stopped long enough to empty her stomach on the perfect flowers lining Mrs. Maloney’s sidewalk.

  Her hands were still shaking when she drove away and went to the nearest convenience store to get something to wash the taste of bile from her mouth. She got back on the undivided highway, blindly heading for Trent and the solace only he could give her.

  She was miles away from anyone, on a deserted stretch of cow-lined road, when she realized that the car behind her had been there since she’d left Mrs. Maloney’s home.