by Meryl Sawyer
Kat’s lips were parted and she gazed up at him with adoring eyes. He lowered his mouth to her round, soft breast and flicked his tongue across the beaded nipple. Her body shuddering, Kat arched upward, tilting her pelvis against him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he smiled inwardly. She wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted her.
He gave her other breast its due and sucked on the nipple greedily. He eased one hand between her thighs. There he discovered the slick, wet proof of her desire. She was ready for him, but he wanted her at the brink. She gasped as he stroked between the folds of soft, moist skin and found the tiny bud.
“Hurry!” She squeezed her thighs against his hand.
Justin had no intention of speeding up the pace, even though his erection felt ready to explode. Rolling the nubbin with his thumb, he slipped one finger inside her. The moist sheathing heat sent his pulse skyrocketing. She moaned with pleasure and rocked her hips, arching off the mattress. He slowly withdrew his finger, then burrowed two fingers into the wet channel.
“Oh, wow! Wow!” she cried.
The relentless heat scorched Justin’s skin, and he pulsed with the burning need to take her this second. His breath erupted in short bursts that caused pain to lance through his side. He trembled with the need to possess her. He managed to hold himself in check even though his jutting penis throbbed to be deep in her sweet body. He was vaguely aware of a distant, chiming noise.
“Your phone,” Kat muttered.
“Oh, crap!” He recognized the distinctive sound now. “It’s the station. Something must be wrong.”
He rolled to his side, his erection ramrod straight, hot and throbbing. It took a moment of fumbling in the dark to locate his cargo shorts and pull his cell phone out of the pocket.
Gazing up at the ceiling, Kat groaned out loud. From what Justin was saying, he was going to leave her to go out on a call. Just her luck!
“It’s the Randolphs next door,” he told her, his voice raw. “The prick’s beating up his wife again.” With a grimace, he pulled on his shorts and managed to get his penis inside, although a quick glance would tell anyone he had an erection. “I won’t be long. The gun’s in the nightstand.”
“I know,” she managed to say. “I saw it this afternoon.”
“You’re not going to need it.” He bent over and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back in no time. I’ll leave Redd with you for company.” He pointed to the old-fashioned rotary telephone on the nightstand. “Call if you need me.”
GROGGY WITH SLEEP, Kat opened her eyes. Where was she? It was too dark, too quiet to be prison. Of course not. She had been released on a furlough. If she let her mind stay there long enough, she would feel the prison walls closing in around her. She forced herself to think, and by degrees, reality tiptoed into her muzzy brain. She was in bed, at Justin’s home, where she’d been when he’d received the phone call.
What had awakened her? She glanced at the luminous dial of the clock on the nightstand. Justin had been gone for almost an hour. What was keeping him? Her heart thumped noisily as cold-blooded fear took over her body.
Someone’s out there.
It’s probably Justin, she decided, but she strained to listen for another sound. She waited…and waited. All she could hear was the low, rhythmic wheeze of the swamp cooler in the living room. Redd was curled up asleep on the throw rug beside her bed. Dogs had more acute hearing than people, didn’t they? If she’d actually been awakened by a noise, it hadn’t bothered the dog.
Listen, a voice in her head insisted. Trying not to freak, she scooted to a sitting position, pulled up her legs, and rested her chin on her knees while she strained to hear something besides the air conditioner. Nothing. It must have been her imagination working overtime.
Where was Justin? He’d said he would be right back. Being alone in the house, so far from everything was creeping her out—big time.
Get over it. You’re okay. No one’s out there.
Rationally, she knew no one was around, but she’d feel a lot better if Justin were in bed with her. She groped for the lamp on the nightstand. To soothe her nerves, she could read until Justin came home.
Her hand on the lamp’s switch, she froze. A noise. This time Redd heard it, too. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he lurched to his feet. She detected a dull click that seemed to have come from the kitchen. Maybe it was the back door that opened to the yard.
There was probably a logical explanation for the sound, she reassured herself. The refrigerator might have cycled on. The darkness and the still house magnified any noise. Redd growled again, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck shot upward.
She slid open the drawer in the nightstand and grabbed the gun. How would anyone know she was here? Duh! How many places could she be? A determined person could find her easily.
Guns had safety catches, didn’t they? By the light of the alarm clock, she examined the weapon. It was cold in her hand and had a deadly gleam. She didn’t see any catch to disengage.
Redd growled again, and the fur on his back bristled upward like a hedgehog’s. She wished he would bark. That might frighten off an intruder, but she knew the dog wouldn’t be much protection. Not only did Redd jump at his own shadow, golden retrievers didn’t rank up there in the guard dog category.
Holding the gun, she tiptoed across the small room to her pile of clothes and slipped into a pair of shoes she’d pulled from her things earlier that afternoon. Thankfully, she’d been sleeping in her shorts and T-shirt.
Another faint click.
Redd snarled and bared his teeth. Now the house was deadly silent; only the low wheeze of the swamp cooler filled the darkness. If someone was there, he was as silent as a cat.
She reached for the telephone. The old-fashioned rotary dial must be a legacy of the previous owner. It was going to make noise, but she had no alternative. She hadn’t recharged her cell. Even if this turned out to be a false alarm, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The line was dead.
She gripped the gun to her breast and silently prayed the phone had malfunctioned. After all, it was older than Egyptian dirt. Justin used his cell all the time. He might not have known the land line was out.
And pigs might fly.
It was just too much of a coincidence to hear a noise, have a growling dog, and find the phone dead. Someone was here. Were they in the house yet or lurking outside?
She slipped out of bed, tiptoed to the door, and kept her body out of sight as she peered around the doorjamb. The porch light was yellow and cast a golden sheen across the small living room. No one was there—unless they were behind the couch, out of her view.
A floorboard creaked and she nearly screamed. Someone was in the kitchen. Go out the bedroom window, an inner voice urged. She ventured across the room to the only window. The lever lock released with a low ping that sounded like a shot in the dark house. She paused, expecting to hear footsteps.
Nothing.
She pushed on the window. It wouldn’t budge. She put the gun on the sill and used both hands to shove harder, but it didn’t do any good. The window must have been painted shut or something.
“Going somewhere?” The deep, guttural voice filled the room.
A huge ape of a man stood in the doorway, blocking her only escape route. The air left her lungs in a low moan. Fangs bared, Redd trotted over to her side.
“What do you want?” She tried to sound tough, the way she had been in prison. Taking advantage of the darkness, she reached behind her back for the gun on the sill.
“Whoo-ee! I could use me some pussy.”
Numb with terror, she realized he had a gun in his hand, and it was aimed at her. Somehow she managed to get the revolver off the sill. She kept it behind her back, saying, “Justin will be back any minute. He—”
“Will find a dumb cunt tied spread-eagle to his bed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KAT DIDN’T RECOGNIZE this demented stranger. She didn’t
recall seeing him around town. But with complete certainty, she knew he was going to rape her. Chances were he would kill her before Justin returned.
She whipped out the gun from behind her back and pulled the trigger as she jumped to the side, hoping he couldn’t react quickly enough to shoot her. Nothing! The gun didn’t fire.
The hulking creep belted out a derisive laugh. “Forgot the safety, bitch.”
Acting on instinct alone, she charged forward and hurled the gun at his face while kicking toward his groin. Redd lunged with her, taking Kat by surprise. Kat’s foot missed the target, but the dog chomped down on the brute’s leg just as the gun hit him square in the nose.
“Shee-it!” he howled, staggering backward into the hall, blood spurting from his nose. He dropped his weapon. It clattered onto the wood floor with a deafening bang.
Run!
In a split second, she exploded out of the bedroom and bolted down the hall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Redd hanging onto the man’s calf like he was a pit bull instead of a scaredy-cat retriever. Heart pounding in her ears, already weak and short of breath, she dashed toward the front door.
Fumbling with the chain on the safety lock, she heard a pain-stricken yelp. He’d clobbered poor Redd. Suddenly, there was movement behind her. She managed to open the door and sprinted out onto the porch. Keep moving, she told herself even though her weakened body trembled with the effort.
With a shriek she was positive could be heard all the way back in town, she stormed down the steps into the yard. Bathed in a bone-chilling sweat and disoriented by the darkness, she struggled to recall the layout of Justin’s place. A wisp of a breeze fluttered around her, causing silhouettes to twist and lunge, every shadow a threat.
She’d been so out of it when they’d driven up that all she remembered was an unkempt fenced yard and a detached two-car garage with a workroom or shop built onto the back of it. A dense layer of clouds blanketed the new moon, blocking out the stars as well. It was nearly impossible to see where she was going, but she rushed forward.
In the distance, she detected a glimmer of light through the trees. That must be where Justin had gone. She screamed again for all she was worth. A tromping sound startled her. Oh, no. Oh, no. The creep was chasing her, running her to ground. He would pounce on her before she could reach the house beyond the trees.
The garage. He wouldn’t be able to see where she went, if she could manage to make it to the back of the garage. He would expect her to head toward the lights. She might be able to fool him by running in the opposite direction, toward the thicket that she vaguely remembered seeing behind the garage. The whole unincorporated area was riddled with dense stands of old-growth trees—perfect for hiding.
Her stomach heaved and her legs threatened to buckle beneath her, but she forced herself to race across the unmowed grass. Behind her, Kat heard footfalls like a charging buffalo. The guy might be clumsy, but he was shockingly fast, and he was rapidly closing the distance between them. She screamed again—just in case someone was out there and could hear her.
“You’re dead, bitch!” he yelled as if he’d gone berserk.
He was just seconds behind her now. Kat knew she wouldn’t make it to the rear of the garage and into the woods without him seeing where she went. She veered right and crashed through the partially open door into the workroom attached to the garage. She slammed the door shut a split second before he reached it. The only lock she could feel in the darkness was a small button in the knob itself.
Not much protection.
He rammed the door with his shoulder and dust filled the air. Coughing and struggling to gain control of her senses, she fumbled in the dark for something to use as a weapon. Undoubtedly, he would bust through in less than a minute. Her hands discovered a long handle. A rake or a hoe? she wondered hopefully. No. A broom.
Oh, great! How could she defend herself with a broom? Her sixth sense told her to stand beside the door. The way he was pummeling it with his whole body, when he broke through, his momentum would carry him into the small narrow room. With luck, she could escape out the door behind him while he was struggling to get his bearings.
He battered the door again and again, apparently charging the barricade from a running start a short distance away. A moment later, he punched a hole with his fist in the door near the handle. In the dim light coming from God-only-knew-where she spotted his white hand, flapping around, searching for the knob. She grabbed two of his fingers and snapped them backward with all her might.
“Muth-fucker!” he shrieked from the other side of the door. He yanked his hand out of range. “Yer dead meat, bitch!”
An eerie calmness had overtaken Kat. She wrapped her arms around her waist, attempting to hold herself together. She’d been in terrible situations before, but then death hadn’t been riding on her shoulder like an avenging angel. She waited, no longer trembling, knowing she would have just one chance to get away from this monster. He smacked the door again with his beefy shoulder.
Off to the side, Kat waited, biding her time while striving to organize her thoughts and keep panic at bay. The way he was thwacking the door, the madman would fly into the room any second.
“Fuckin’A!” he ranted, then rammed into the door so hard the wall against her back shook.
Something in his tone alerted Kat, and she pressed her body as close to the wall as possible. He would sail by her in a heartbeat. With luck, it would be enough time for her to flee across the yard to the trees where she could hide. The next instant, the door splintered on its hinges and the creep hurled into the room.
Kat leaped out the door and stormed toward the thicket of trees and underbrush.
“Stop, bitch! Or I’m gonna kill him as soon as he comes home!”
Him?
Kat stumbled to a halt, not trusting what she’d heard. Her breath left her lungs in labored pants. Did this monster mean Justin? Duh! Of course he did. What could she do to help him?
He pounced on Kat and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her backward so hard her teeth rattled. With an open fist, he slapped her with such force her vision blurred and her ears rang. He pulled her against him. The sour odor of sweat rank with rum filled her lungs. She slumped, making herself dead weight, but it didn’t faze him. One arm around her waist, he dragged her toward the house.
Please, save me, Justin, she silently prayed.
He hauled her up the two steps to the front door. It was wide open, but the house was still dark inside. He heaved her onto the sofa, then came down on top of her like a sack of wet cement. The force of his weight knocked the air out of her lungs with a whoosh. She felt the gun, shoved into the waistband of his pants, dig into the tender flesh of her belly. If only she could distract him long enough to grab the gun.
Terror mounting, she gasped for breath. There was just enough light glowing from the digital clock on the oven in the nearby kitchen for her to see his white teeth as he grinned down at her and the fireworks detonating in his eyes. Blood dribbled from his nose and was smeared across his cheek.
He slammed one meaty hand down on her breast and squeezed—hard. It hurt, but she refused to cry out. He dug in his fingers more, determined to cause as much pain as he could. His dirty, smelly body ground against her like a rutting boar.
“You’re gonna pay for breakin’ my nose, bitch!”
Kat’s pulse spiked; her breath came in choppy, terrified pants. Oh, Lordy, her life couldn’t end like this. Raped and murdered. A wave of horror unlike anything she’d ever experienced—even in prison—engulfed her.
Desperate and savage as a cornered wildcat, she reminded herself of the lessons she’d learned in the school of hard knocks. His huge body, smoldering with heat and reeking of rum and BO had her overpowered. She had to use her wits if she intended to survive.
“Why are you after Justin?” she asked, hoping that getting him to talk would stall him.
“He killed my brother.” He released her breast and shoved hi
s rough hand under her shorts and across her stomach to her crotch. “Shee-it! Nice pussy Radner gots hisself.”
Kat’s stomach heaved, and for a second she thought what little she’d eaten would come up. Droplets of sweat popped out on her forehead. She thought she heard the click of Redd’s nails on the wooden floor, but couldn’t be sure. If the dog would just bite him again, she might be able to grab the gun.
Headlights cracked the dark yard like twin bolts of lightning. Justin was back. Voices. Someone was with him.
His hand locked around her throat. “One sound and you’re dead.”
He was crushing her Adam’s apple, cutting off her air entirely. A hard rim of pitch-black limited her field of vision. Any second she would pass out from lack of oxygen. She bucked upward as best she could, but he didn’t loosen his grip. He was going for the gun. She attempted to knee him in the groin, but he shifted to the side.
As his weight shifted, he took his hand off her neck. The bile welled up in her throat and the lack of air had sent her queasy tummy into a backflip. She gasped for air and told herself to hurl. Come on. Just let it go.
Her stomach clenched then heaved upward in a sickening rush. She aimed right at his face. The putrid-smelling vomit hit him in the eyes. He punched at her viciously, but she managed to duck to the side.
The lights flashed on, blinding her. She kicked upward, counting on the element of surprise and knowing the sudden brightness had to have affected him, too. Before she realized it, she had her hand on the gun. They grappled for control of the weapon. She was aware of voices yelling, but she was too intent on disarming him. If he had his finger on the trigger, she was certain the man would shoot Justin.
A shot split the vile-smelling air.
The beast looked at her blankly for a moment, grabbed his crotch, then toppled over. Redd hovered nearby, growling. Justin and a deputy stood not far away, guns drawn.
Kat stood up, covered in puke and blood. He was still alive, writhing on the floor, clutching his penis.
“Are you all right, honey?” Justin asked.
