While there’s no one here, I walk around the perimeter of the house. Large windows reveal the décor of a man who has done quite well for himself. Antiques and handwoven rugs are placed throughout the house. Though I have to admit I’m impressed with what I see, that isn’t why I’m here. Not at all. I’m doing a little research, assessing Liam’s security system and searching for points of entry.
Time for the grand finale.
Chapter Fifty Four
Liam
“Your bail hearing isn’t until tomorrow morning. It’s the best I could do, Liam.”
“I can’t leave her in that house alone, not even for one night.”
“You’ve got no choice. I can’t guarantee you’ll get out by then. They’ve got you dead to rights with this DNA evidence. How in the hell did that happen, Liam?”
“I have no idea.”
“This woman you’re seeing, is there any way she could have set you up?”
“No!” My reaction is immediate. Not only is there no way she could concoct a plan that intricate, up until now she hasn’t been out of my sight. I’d like to say I trust her and I know she wouldn’t do anything like that, but how well do we really know anyone? I kidnapped the woman, so it isn’t like we have some conventional relationship with hearts and flowers. For all I know, she could be waiting for something like this to happen so she can double cross me. Setting me up would be the perfect way for Madonna to free herself from my grip, but I’m not about to share that information with my lawyer. I can barely stand the thought of it myself.
“Call Anthony Johnson.”
“Governor Anthony Johnson?!? You know him?”
“Long story, but, yes. He can get me out of here on bail so she isn’t left at the mercy of a serial killer. I’ll never forgive myself if that bastard kills her.”
“Let’s stay positive about this, Liam. I don’t even want to think about an innocent woman dying because you’ve been framed. Let me get on this and you just sit tight until I can get you out of this hellhole.”
He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I’m well aware of how easily someone can arrive in jail with one charge and leave with three more. I’ve already got a fucking target on my back because I don’t fit in here. I can only hope the governor can pull some strings and get me out tonight so Madonna isn’t left at the mercy of a killer. Like he’d have any fucking mercy anyway.
The only way I can find out if my brother’s in on this and, if so, how far he’s taken his deranged mind fucks this time, is to get out of here.
Governor Anthony Johnson is my only hope.
Chapter Fifty Five
Madonna
This is one time that my lover’s OCD isn’t getting on my nerves. Liam’s desk is in perfect order so it’s easy to find anything I need.
The top of his desk is like any other, with precisely aligned Post-it notes and patient case files. It’s so unfair that his brother, who has nothing to lose, is doing this to a man with so much to lose. I know he’s a good surgeon—but I also know how scandal can affect a person’s career. I hope his arrest doesn’t become public knowledge; the damage would be irreparable.
The file drawer catches my eye. I open it and flip through the files until I reach names starting with the letter ‘M’.
Bingo.
I find my file and lay it on the desk, opening it. Even though I’m aware that he was following me before he kidnapped me, I’m still shocked at the amount of information he had gathered about me. I sift through countless pictures taken without my knowledge: drinking coffee, walking down the street, trudging through the hospital with my usual armload of books, running errands, shopping at the mall. The list goes on and on. When would he have had the time to do all this? He had to have hired a private investigator.
And it doesn’t stop there. He has my Social Security number, birth date, even my bank records. How in the hell did he get information that’s supposed to be protected by law? He has enough personal information on me to steal my identity if he wanted to. But I know Liam doesn’t want my identity. He wants me—complete control of me.
The more I see, the more I wonder how he managed to get all this information without me knowing. I never saw anyone following me except for the time I saw him in the coffee shop. There’s no way he could have done this legally. I’m beginning to wonder if my kidnapper doesn’t have some shady connections. He had to have been stalking me for months to have this much information on me. He must have spent all of his free time keeping up with me before he brought me here. I’m sure he feels an obligation toward me due to his brother being so bent on killing me. Really, I don’t know whether to be scared or flattered.
My eyes are getting tired and I’m surprised at how late it is. I put everything back where it was. One thing out of place is all it would take for him to know I’ve been nosing around. Looking in his rolodex for the lawyer’s number is one thing, but investigating just how obsessed he is…well, that’s another.
I head into the bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth. My head hits the pillow and I’m fast asleep. It has been a long stressful day and I welcome the much needed rest. Tomorrow will be a new day with its own set of problems.
Liam
I slide my key into the deadbolt lock and open the door, careful not to make a sound. The burglar alarm has been armed on ‘stay’ and I smile to myself. She was thinking about her safety while I was gone—although I doubt she gave a thought to where her true peril lies. She won’t be expecting danger to arrive in the form of her lover tonight.
I tiptoe up the stairs in an awkward, irregular stride as I navigate my carefully memorized map of creaky floorboards. I’m counting on the element of surprise.
To my delight, she’s sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware that I have returned home. I loosen my tie and roll my neck back and forth, reveling in the simple pleasure of being home after my brief stay behind bars. With John dropping off a fresh suit prior to my release, my appearance is impeccable and my clothes are freshly pressed, even though I’ve just come from jail. The cleaning lady will take them to the dry cleaner tomorrow, but that doesn’t stop me from neatly folding the garments over the back of the antique valet suit stand in the corner of the room.
I shower quickly, hoping to let her sleep a little longer. At times like these, I’m glad she sleeps as hard as she does—Madonna is anything but a light sleeper. I exit the shower and palm a particularly sturdy erection as I consider the things I want to do to her.
I quietly pad over to the bed. It’s good to be clean and in my own home once again. The carpet feels good beneath my feet. The sight of her beneath me as I slide a knee onto the bed gives me the rush of power and control I had missed while in jail.
I cover her mouth with my hand, placing it tightly enough to rob her of her breath. She awakens in a panic, desperate for the life-giving air I block with the palm of my hand. Her struggle is useless, her writhing beneath me accomplishing nothing except to send my urge to dominate, to fuck, into a frenzy.
“There’s nothing quite like holding a life in your hands—”
She claws at my hand with fear-filled eyes and I release her, sliding my hand over her jaw to cup her face. “I suppose you think you know a little bit about that now, eh?” I chuckle, tilting my head to the side pensively and stroking her skin with the pad of my thumb. “Perhaps a small taste, but never forget… I do hold your life in my hands. Otherwise? You’d have ended up in his basement, just as dead as dead can be.”
Her eyes widen in horror at my harshness as I remind her of the brutal truth. She should know by now that I’ll never change. The things I do aren’t just behavior patterns established over many years—this is who I am. To prove it, I mount her, holding her wrists and pressing the length of my body against hers as my cock unerringly finds purchase in her wet heat. She still hasn’t taken her eyes off me. Probably thinks I’m crazy. She’s right, I am.
My thrusts start out slow and steady, reestablishing the viscer
al connection that brought us together in the first place. My pace quickens, becoming more urgent as I give in to the desire to consume her, heart and soul. As my hands slide over her silken flesh, I can no longer distinguish where she stops and where I begin. This woman I coveted for so long has clawed her way inside me and clings to me like an addiction.
The first time I saw her, I knew I had to protect her. As I got to know her, I knew that, right or wrong, I was going to own her. I never counted on being owned in return, completely and irrevocably.
“I’ll never let you go,” I whisper in a hot breath against her neck. “I’ll kill to keep you.”
“I don’t want to go and I’ll kill to stay.”
Oh yes…those are words to live for…to kill for...
She wraps her legs around me as we climax together. I hold her tightly to me for a long while, unwilling to leave this moment for fear that I will wake to find my time with her has been a dream.
“Give me a minute to clean up, then we should really talk.”
My eyes linger on her perfect ass as she pads over to the bathroom. A short time later, she returns to bed and slides under the covers beside me.
“Do you think I killed that woman?” I ask, before she has time to say anything.
“No, of course not. You were here with me that night. The question isn’t whether you killed her, the question is who set you up and how did they do it?”
“I think I may know the answer to that.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I think my brother is responsible. Identical twins share the same DNA. All he would have to do is sneak a vile of his DNA and give it to that crazy groupie of his. No one’s considered that possibility because no one believes he’s fucked up enough in the head to do it. But he is, believe me.”
She raises up on an elbow and frowns at me. “That makes perfect sense. Now how do we prove it?”
“I’ll think of something. In the meantime, I’m tired. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back in my home, back in my own bed.”
“Liam, what happens to me if you can’t prove it and the FBI doesn’t back off?”
“First of all, that’s not going to happen. Second, somewhere along the way obsession turned into love, but--” I say quickly when her eyes light up, “--don’t be deceived into thinking I’m a hearts and flowers kind of guy. My love is dark and uncompromising. You can give yourself to me or I can take you, but either way, I’ll have you—all of you.”
Chapter Fifty Six
His Viewing
There must be some truth in what Lance has been saying about his brother’s dark sexual appetites. The way he's got her pinned down while he fucks her like a feral animal is…delicious. Arousing. Looks like I picked the right night to spy on her. I may need to have some fun with this bitch before I kill her.
From my vantage point in the woods behind the good doctor’s house, I’m enthralled with my unobstructed view of them fucking like mad. His hands are locked around her wrists like vice grips as he controls her every move—yeah, Mr. Uppity surgeon likes it rough. They have no idea I’m snapping pictures of their most intimate moments. This binoculars/camera combo I bought online? Best purchase I’ve ever made.
I just wish I could hear what they’re saying. I’d love to hear what kind of threats he whispers in her ear while he’s rutting away at her. I’d also like to know what they’re saying about me. I’m a very important part of their lives now and they don’t even know it.
No longer am I just some cog in Lance’s well-oiled machine. I’m my own man, with my own ideas.
I shift my weight from one leg to another. My legs are falling asleep and as badly as I want to get up and stretch them, I can’t risk being seen.
I can’t mess this up again. He may have been able to rescue her once, but this time I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Tonight I’m going to kill both of them. I’m sure Lance will hate me for killing his beloved twin, but I just don’t give a fuck. He’ll just have to find a new reason for living since he won’t have his brother around to resent and obsess over anymore.
Up until now I’ve done everything for that ungrateful bastard but, now I’m killing for me. I never expected to like it as much as I do but after that first kill something inside of me flickered to life. The rush is like nothing I’ve ever experienced and I wonder if a double murder will be even more satisfying. I know it will give me more notoriety and that’s important too because I’ll be more famous than Lance ever was.
Killing is more intoxicating than any drug could ever be because it’s forever. From the moment you conceive it in thought and begin to plan, until you’re successful and can spend time looking through the trophies you have acquired along the way, you get to savor the pure pleasure of it all.
I will continue to kill until one of two things happens: I get caught or I die. Who knows…maybe both those things will happen at the same time. I have that kind of dominion over my destiny. I’m all-powerful.
Madonna
The moonlight streaming into the bedroom gives the room an illusion of tranquility that, for the moment anyway, obscures the overwhelming sense of danger and suspense that is keeping me awake. Liam’s home is beautiful in a dark, ominous way. It’s as if the life within its walls has drawn me in over time until I’ve become one with it and can no longer leave. I can’t imagine myself anywhere but here in the arms of this strangely devoted madman with an insatiable appetite for dominance and submission.
I toss the covers back and get up without disturbing Liam. My feet pad across the soft carpeting to the bathroom. The room’s harsh light emphasizes the light bruising around my wrist from Liam holding me down earlier. It’s crazy that I find enjoyment in the things he does to me, but I do, and I’m not ashamed to admit that he’s taken me to a place I don’t think I can ever come back from—a place I have no desire to escape.
I long for my stalker to become a thing of the past. When that drama is finally behind us, perhaps we can forge a life together where we can invite the darkness in, all the while knowing that it will leave at our command. I like the idea of us having a place where we can revel in the crazy, the obsession, the deviant sex we both crave.
I celebrate the dominance Liam exercises over me, but I loathe the control my stalker has over me. I hate him and if given the chance to kill him, I will. It isn’t Liam I want to escape from, it’s the fucked up stranger who has taken over my life without my consent.
This guy hiding in the shadows is nothing more than a coward as far as I’m concerned. Hell, I can even respect Lance with all his dysfunction -- at least he’s straight-up about who he is and what he does. But ‘hoodie boy’? He needs to be taught a lesson and I would love to be the one to do it.
I toss around the idea of doing some writing but decide I need sleep more. Maybe later. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t write—probably go crazy.
I slip back into bed and close my eyes, welcoming the sweet sleep that will overtake me in a moment or two. I never see his hand lock onto my throat at lightning speed but I do hear his hoarse whisper in my ear.
“Planning on killing me in my sleep?” I know he’s referring to the gun beneath my pillow.
“No, Liam. I plan on killing my stalker. I was here alone. What else was I supposed to do?”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of a gun being so close to you while I’m asleep.” As his breath tickles my ear, I can feel the fear crawling up my spine, the same fear that always comes when I don’t know what Liam is going to do next. The sick thing is…I like it.
Chapter Fifty Seven
Liam
I’ve made a habit of watching her while she sleeps. It soothes me. She seems to be the only thing in my life that offers any measure of stability and I’m determined to hang on to it. I’ve never considered myself to be a desperate man…until now.
Things haven’t been the way I thought they would be. When a traditional courtship was no longer an option because of t
he stalker’s deadly intentions, I brought her here to save her life and make her love me. I had visions of her in the grips of Stockholm syndrome, utterly dependent on me. I wanted to be her everything, her provider, her protector -- most of all, her fucking lifeline. I just never expected that she would, in turn, become mine.
“I love you, Madonna.”
My disclosure floats like a mist, hovering there in the stillness. She doesn’t stir so I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Yeah, I don’t like feeling vulnerable. In the end, though, I suppose that doesn’t matter. We don’t choose who we love. One thing’s for sure: falling in love may make other men go soft—me, not so much. If anything, it’s only fanning the flames of my obsession. This poor girl might be in more danger now than she was when I first brought her here.
My phone ringing pulls me out of my thoughts. I’m surprised when I recognize the voice on the other end as being Agent Turner. Great. Just what I fucking need, a call from the man who wants to put me away.
“Agent Turner? Surely you meant to call my attorney and dialed me by mistake. You know perfectly well that I’ve got nothing to say to you.” My voice is flat, all business. Fuck him and fuck being nice; we aren’t buddies or pals and I’m not one for faking it.
“You’ll want to hear this. Would you mind putting your phone on speaker so your girlfriend can hear our conversation?”
Madonna’s up on one elbow, listening intently. I’m sure hearing Turner’s name was enough to wake her up. The sound of his voice has got me on full alert.
“We’ve had some new evidence come up in your case. I’m not at liberty to give all of the details but I did want to go over one thing with you.” He doesn’t give me any time to respond. Pushy bastard.
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