by Ker Dukey
A tear breaks for freedom and I brush it away as I scroll down my cell and dial Jake.
“Hey, babe.”
I frown at the background noise, trying to decipher what it is. It sounds like a club but then again he could still be at some college late night lecture.
“Hey.” My voice is low and when the noise quietens I know he’s closed a door.
“How’s it going?” he asks. It’s only then that I realize he never rang me. It had been over forty eight hours since I had found out about Summer’s disappearance, and Jake hadn’t checked in with me during all that time.
My mouth is dry and I attempt to moisten it so I can speak loud enough for him to hear me. “Summer is missing.”
“What do you mean missing?” he asks.
“She went missing two days ago, Jake. I don’t know… I can’t find her…” Emotion pulls at my heart and I struggle to speak, to tell him, but his answer dries my tears and makes me drop down on to the small chair to steady the shake in my legs.
“Ahh, she’s fifteen, they always run away from home. She’ll be back.”
“Jake, there’s a killer out there. A killer who is seeking out teenage girls. My sister is missing!”
He laughs, the cruel bastard actually fucking laughs. “Babe, come on. You always tell me how clever Summer is, I doubt she’d get kidnapped by a fucking pedophile. Girls of that age runaway. It’s a right of passage, don’t tell me you never took off from home when you were a teenager?”
I recoil back into the chair at his words. Is he for real? I can’t seem to make sense of what he’s saying. I had expected his comfort, his compassion, but all he can do is mock my worry, laugh at my despair.
He sighs as if realizing he’s overstepped the mark. “I’m sorry, Snowflake. I didn’t mean to make light of it. All I’m saying is try not to worry. She’s a kid, they always get their selves in scrapes.”
When I don’t answer him, he lowers his voice. “I’m sorry, babe. Really I am. You know me and my lack of tact. I know you’re hurting. I do. Tell me what you want me to do and I’m there.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I answer on a whisper, his late concern choking me up. I wasn’t sure if I would rather him be tactless so I wouldn’t feel this damn hopeless. “I don’t know where to look. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t even know how to be…”
“Do you need me?” he whispers back. “Is that why you called, you need to feel, Snowflake… Do you need punishing?”
I nod. I needed some pain to take the edge off me spiraling. I hate how weak that made me. He was an insensitive ass who grinded my nerves more than anything but he was perfect for what I needed in bed. The cruel insensitivity in him made for a perfect sadist.
“Tell me, Miss Kelly, do you need to feel better?”
“Yes, I need to feel better.” My voice is quiet but I know he’s heard me. I’m almost ashamed that he can bring me to this when my sister is God knows where. That I need Jake’s harsh sex to give my mind a break from what is happening around me.
“Shame isn’t welcome, Winter, you know that. Now answer me so I can hear you.”
“Yes,” I say louder as my eyes slide closed. “I need punishing. I can’t help her. I need punishing so bad. I need you to make me bleed.”
A noise behind me makes me jump and I spin around. Cole is staring at me like I have suddenly grown three heads. I start to frown then recognition hits me. He heard what I just said.
My cheeks fire with heat and I turn back around. “Jake, I have to go.” I don’t give him time to answer before I stab at my cell and cut him off.
The silence claws at my skin. For the longest time we are both struck mute. I daren’t look at him, but then it hits me that I’m an adult, and what I do in my sex life doesn’t concern him. So pretending like nothing happened, I plant a smile on my face and turn to him. “How did it go?”
He frowns and shakes his head as if confused by my question.
How did he even get in here? He’s like a freaking ninja.
“The girl, and her parents,” I remind him.
“Oh,” he blinks and nods. “I don’t think she’ll do it again, put it that way.”
I nod, “Stupid girl. Did you manage to get anything that might help us though?”
“Nah, she knows nothing. That’s the way he likes to play it.”
When another bout of awkward silence descends, Cole groans and rubs at his face. “Listen, just pretend I don’t eavesdrop like a creeper, and I didn’t hear anything.”
He looks so contrite that I give him a small smile. “That sounds good.” I shrug, slipping my hands into my jeans pocket.
There’s still a slight awkwardness and I hate it.
“On that creeper note, you need to learn to lock your doors.”
I look to the door that I’d left unlocked. “Do you think that man was the Angel killer?” I ask, ignoring him.
He rubs a hand over his face and sits down opposite me. “If it is we got extremely lucky to get that close. I need to take down some details from you.”
I nod in agreement. “Something is worrying me.” I scoot forward, rubbing my hands down my thighs. “The Angel killer keeps his victims for at least a month, Summer has been gone two days. If he has her, would he be out looking for a new victim so soon?”
I feel ill thinking of him holding her somewhere doing God knows what. I think about her fear and what she must be thinking.
“We don’t really know much about his MO. We know the longest between finding bodies has been eight weeks but he has advanced rapidly to just four weeks between the last victims - he’s evolving.”
“What if he likes to watch his victims for weeks before actually taking them?” I put out there.
“Go on?”
“Well, all the girls just disappear, right? No lead, no evidence found to suggest where they’re actually taken from. Maybe he watches, learns their routines and their friends, or lack thereof. He studies them before taking his next victim. It would make sense why he was there watching that girl tonight but still have a victim held somewhere.”
“If it was even him, it could just be some other pervert,” he claims.
I grab the laptop and show him the latest message.
Winner gets an angel.
“We need to call this in Win, this is too dangerous for you.”
“Just wait and see what Jarod comes back with. Please, Cole. He’s looking for deleted emails and Summer’s history on that site.”
“Fine, but I don’t like it,” he grumbles with a scowl towards me. “I’m going to go grab some sleep and I need you to do the same, you look like shit.”
“Oh, thanks a lot.”
“You know what I mean. I can smell the vomit, Win. Not taking care of yourself won’t help bring her back.”
Biting my tongue as the fierce retort urges to be freed, I stand and pull my top over my head and then unbutton my jeans, sliding them to the floor before crawling over the bed and slipping beneath the covers.
“Happy now?” I quirk a brow but he’s breathing heavy and staring at the covers covering me. “Cole?”
His eyes snap to mine and I blink at the dark look he pierces me with, before he turns and disappears through an adjoining door.
I push the covers back and slip from the bed, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I’d not even thought about stripping off my clothes in front of Cole. Modesty was something raped from me at a young age so my brain tends to not engage in moments like that.
I stop and study myself in the mirror, the black lace of the bra I’m wearing molds around my breasts, cupping them perfectly and sculpting them into perfect round forms. My eyes travel down past my navel to the small white scars littering my skin and then down to my panty line. I wore some mesh panties that were see-through. My cheeks flush knowing Cole saw me in them.
The room heats with my thoughts and I need to get some fresh air.
I pull the door open to the balcony a
nd enjoy the blast of the cool air as it brushes over my skin like a wave in the ocean. The small hairs on my skin pinch and cause a chorus of goosebumps to rise. The breeze lifts and tussles my hair around my face. I step further outside, the cold beneath my bare feet taking my breath away. I don’t rush inside, instead I welcome the sting of the cold.
A grunting sound draws my attention and I stumble on my feet when I look to the other balcony to see the door slightly ajar and the curtains open. Cole is highlighted by a glow of a lamp. He’s shirtless. His bronzed skin is tight and silky, printed with ink over defined muscle. My mouth dries and I step closer, drawn in by his hand moving smoothly over his cock that he’s freed from his pants without removing them. The look on his face is pained as he picks up the pace, slamming his fist over his thick length. He’s brutal and delicious as he punishes himself with pleasure. My mind considers who he could be thinking about. I didn’t ask if he had a wife or girlfriend, and the thought of him having either leaves me feeling deflated even though I know he would never be open to something between us. To him I am just the girl who he saved. The young girl who he would always give his best smile to, but never any more.
His other hand reaches out to grasp the bedside table and he pumps his fist harder and harder before letting out a roar. Ribbons of cum shoot forth and coat the table top, his tight abs twitching with the sheer force he comes with. Every single one of his back muscles is pulsing with each hefty breath, and I stare hungrily, my tongue running across my lip as I imagine following the groove of his spine.
My panties are wet and I ache for relief but I deny myself it and turn away quickly before he catches me watching.
Climbing back into bed, I groan into the darkness and shift onto my side, pulling up my knees and hugging them as I try and ignore the throbbing torture tightening my body. I can’t see anything but the movement of his abs when he came every time my eyes slide closed, and when I toss on to my other side, and the echo of his fierce groan makes me shudder, I give in, slip my hand in my panties and join him in the art of self-pleasuring.
Sin. I could practically smell it on her as she blocked my path. There was something about her eyes that kept me hypnotized. Dark, like black pools of depravity right there in the open for all to see. The way she carried herself, the sway of her hips and flick of the long, thick mane of hers.
She was a game player - like me in a way. Was she like me? Searching for an Angel amongst the sinners? No, she was there to find me. She looked too young to be with the police, yet she had a confidence a police officer would possess.
I was intrigued by her profile when it popped up. Usually I wait a little longer before seeking out new Angels when I’ve only just acquired one, but there was something about the profile that had me clicking on the picture. She looked familiar to me.
Mmm, young, fresh faced and dark hair. My cock stiffens at the thought but I don’t succumb to its urges.
I had Ariel in the same area. I thought I’d play a little game and have them both show up to see if they were both real. The site is used by many people pretending to be people they’re not. Just like sweet Autumn, and although at first I was a little disappointed that she wasn’t just a young thirteen year old, I soon became excited at the prospect of coming so close to someone who managed to get this close to me. The police were useless and I wasn’t even on their radar. They had everything so wrong.
Maybe a game would be fun.
All my Angels were weak and succumbed to demands so easily, and although I want that from them I’d be lying if I said this Autumn Sinner didn’t make my blood crackle in my veins.
Where was it I knew this dark beauty from? Would she let me release her of her sins?
Closing my eyes, I place myself back at the diner.
It’s cold and I involuntarily shiver. I notice the condensation on the diner window from my car so I know I won’t look suspicious if I put on a hat and scarf.
“Look around the street, what cars do you see?”
‘The car park is full. There’s a subway station a few feet away. People park here and use it to go to and from work.”
“Okay, walk me through when you first saw him?”
I picture myself walking to the toilet, pushing the door open and almost colliding with him.
A waft of pine wood. Bleach. And something softer, lavender maybe.
“He had a scent, pine wood. It was strong. But there’s an underlying smell of chemicals and a faint floral taste to the air around him.”
“Okay. Look at him, how tall is he?”
I remember looking up at him as he crowded me. “Six foot, maybe a little more.”
“Now look at his face, Winnie, does he have any scars or defining features?”
My breath quickens as I put myself back there. I open my eyes to see Cole’s concern etched on his face. “You okay?”
“Let me try to draw him.” I quickly stand, rummaging through the drawer for some paper. The only stuff I find is a notepad and pen next to the phone.
“Can you draw?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I can try.”
Six pieces of paper later I hold up a drawing. “This is him.” I point to the paper and Cole bites his lip.
“That looks like Dracula,” he tells me in a gentle tone like he’s trying not to hurt my feelings.
I look to the picture and then back at him. “He had that kind of appeal, it was weird.”
“Appeal?”
“Oh you know what I mean, Cole, aura.”
“Okay. I’ll run it through the database but don’t hold your breath.”
“That’s all I can fucking do. I’m suffocating knowing she’s out there, more than likely in the hands of this bastard.”
“I think you should go home and speak with your parents, this isn’t their fault and they need you right now, Win, you need each other. It might make you feel better.”
“I can’t be in that house. It’s asphyxiating. I feel like she’s gone and her room is a tomb.” My hands begin to shake at the truth slipping free from my lips. I feel like something’s missing inside, empty, and won’t ever be recovered. It’s like my soul is trying to tell me I’m too late.
“I know what you’re thinking and you shouldn’t think that way.”
“I know the percentages of her being found alive, Cole. I’ve done the freaking studies and researched for years on this kind of thing.”
“If it is Angel who has her then we have some time. We know, or we’re sure, he keeps them for some time, toys with them before he…” He grimaces, glancing away from me so he doesn’t have to finish the sentence. “And if it’s not, she could have runaway, Win, no matter how much you don’t want to believe it.”
“I would rather that than the other. I’m going to go to her school and ask around her friends.”
“We would have already had someone do that.”
“I know but people are more likely to open up to a civilian if they think it won’t get them or their friend in trouble.”
“Okay, you’re right. Keep your phone on and call if you find anything useful.”
“I will and you do the same if that sketch brings anything up.”
He scrunches his nose and looks back at my drawing. “Will do. I’m going to go back to the diner, show it around and see if anyone there remembers him.”
I’m no Van Goth but that is what he looked like. Dark eyes, intense and broody. Almost familiar - like they recognised the darkness inside me.
Chatter and people everywhere. I hated school for this reason. It was too big and full of people striving to be popular, wanted, liked. If only they knew that none of this will matter in a few years.
“Summer?”
My heart skips as I turn to the sound of someone calling Summer’s name. A young boy approaches me and his face drops when he realizes I’m not her. He slips his hands into the pockets of an oversized pair of jeans. His shirt is baggy also and sporting a band logo ‘Seether’.
Long blonde hair drops over his face as he shrugs. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
“I’m her sister, how do you know her?”
“You’re Winter?” he asks. I answer his question with a nod as my eyes narrow on him questioningly but he gives me a timid smile. “Summer talks about you. She wants to be like you.”
I have to hold my breath to stop my emotions from spilling out. “Who are you?”
He brings his hand from his pocket and offers it to me but I can still see his nerves. “I’m Tom.”
“I mean to Summer, who are you to Summer?”
He blushes, the flush reaching all the way to his pale blue eyes. “We’re friends. Have you found her?”
“No. When was the last time you spoke to her?”
“The day she went missing. I text her to ask if I could see her to give her the gift I got for her birthday. She was stoked to be seeing you so I knew I wouldn’t see her on her actual birthday.” He wrings his hands together and grabs my arm. “People are spreading gossip, saying that serial killer has her.” There’s distress in his eyes causing them to gloss over with unshed fearful tears.
“I’m going to find her.” I tell him firmly.
He nods wildly, eager to believe my words.
“Did she reply to you about meeting up?”
“Yeah.” He gets his cell out and scrolls through before holding the phone up to me.
Summer: I won’t be around until after now Tom, I’m sorry and you’re so sweet to get me a gift. I’ll call you when I’m home.
“Did she ever call?”
He shakes his head, “No.”
“Do you know why she would be at a train station?”
His brow furrows as he looks at me then he lowers his eyes, thinking. “No. She was coming to see you wasn’t she?”
“No, I was coming to her.”
“Oh.”
“Miss Kelly, how lovely to see you,” Mrs Olden says, coming up to us. “Tom, shouldn’t you be in class?” she questions, tapping her wristwatch. It’s then I realize the corridor is now empty.
“Please find her,” he quickly pleads before shuffling off down the corridor.
