by Sara York
“Marissa, wait. I just want to talk. I promise I won’t do anything.”
Tony watched Marissa’s face as she thought about his request. The anger slowly ebbed, smoothing the lines away from her features. He sat in a chair next to the couch, not wanting to be too close to his wife, afraid that if he could reach out and pull her into his arms he would.
“I talked to Danny today,” Marissa said.
“Yeah, is he coming back into town?”
“No, not yet anyway. He had a cleaning company go through their house and do deep cleaning, but he wants me to go over and box up some of the things that are important to him.”
“No!” Tony’s voice echoed off the walls. Even he was surprised by the intensity he had displayed. Marissa sat still for a moment. The fear on her face turned to anger. Tony knew he was in for a fight.
“Excuse me? I’m doing this for Danny.”
“Marissa, I know you want to help, but not this way.”
“Why not? I’ll go over there during the day and leave before it gets dark.”
“I can’t let you do it.”
“You have no say over me now. I am going to help Danny. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Anger rolled through Tony. He needed to calm down. He got up and moved around the room. The space was small, making him feel like a caged animal. Marissa was determined to help Danny. He could tell by the look on her face she was willing to make a big deal out of this. Stalling was his only option.
“I need some water,” Tony said before heading towards the kitchen.
He found water bottles in the fridge. He smiled as he cracked one open. Marissa always had bottled water on hand, especially this time of year when algae bloomed in the lakes. Tony chuckled, remembering the cute way she would wrinkle her nose in disgust at the earthy smell of the tainted tap water.
The cool refreshing liquid soothed his parched throat. His head ached with tension. As his mind worked on a solution to his problem, he noticed the drawer under the counter opposite him was cracked open. He moved to shut it, but hesitated. Pulling it open, he smiled to himself when he spied Dove chocolates mixed with the pens, scissors and other odds and ends. He snagged one of the sweet treats, and his eyes were drawn to an envelope at the bottom of the drawer. The word ‘key’ was printed in bold letters.
Before he could reign in his impulses, Tony had one of the silver keys in his hand. This key was different from their house key, probably an extra for this apartment. He took it, sliding it out of the envelope and into his pocket, not allowing his mind to examine the breach of trust he had just committed. Replacing the envelope quietly, Tony breathed in deep, trying to calm his racing heart.
The sound of footsteps in the short hall from the den alerted Tony that Marissa was near. Casually leaning against the counter, he took a long swig from his water bottle. The vision of Marissa out of the corner of his eye made his heart jump in his chest.
“I think you need to leave now.” Marissa’s voice was unbending and sent a chill down Tony’s spine.
“Marissa, when you go to Danny’s house would you please promise to call me? I want to have a patrol car keep watch on the house while you’re in there.”
“Why?”
“This killer is crafty. He’s not your average thug. I worry about your safety.” Tony stepped forward, within inches of his wife. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his embrace. His fingers ached to touch her soft skin and smell the sweet fragrance of her silky hair, but he didn’t move.
“You can stop worrying.” Marissa’s voice was hard as steel. Her body language screamed ‘don’t touch’. Tony backed away, not wanting to push Marissa even further from him.
“No, Marissa, I can’t stop worrying about you. I love you too much to ever stop worrying. I think about you, about us, day and night. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I do is check the bed to see if you’re there. I want you back.”
“I’m not ready.” Worry lines crossed her forehead and her lips pinched into a thin line. She’d had enough.
“I know you’re not ready, Marissa, but I will keep coming to see you. I’m not going to stop calling, either. When you’re ready, I want you back in our house.”
“Don’t push it.” Marissa turned away from him.
“I’ll stop for now, but not forever. I want to fix this.”
“You can’t fix it.” She turned and studied his face. Her eyes roved over his body. A blush flared on her cheeks as she stared at his lips. She was thinking about kissing him. Tony reached out and pulled her close. Her body melted against his. Her soft curves pressed against his torso. Desire filled him, leaving him feeling warm.
He drank in her scent and kissed the top of her head. The smell of fresh peaches filled his nostrils, reminding him of the sweet past they shared. Another spike of desire shook through him, causing shivers to run wild. Marissa pulled him tighter and turned her face towards his.
She was his wife and a man had needs. He closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten, trying desperately to stop his body from taking over and scaring her away forever.
His muscles tensed as he stepped away from her. He was lost and alone outside of her arms. She was his center, his whole world. But he needed more than a few kisses from her. He needed her back in his bed, not for one day, but forever. The confused look in her eyes almost did him in, but he had to be disciplined. One night of blissful lovemaking would be great, but not enough.
“Marissa, I love you too much to jeopardize forever. I want you back all the way. I want to make love to you, but I want to do that in our house, together.”
“I’m not ready.” Her voice cracked as she turned away. Before her face was completely hidden from him, he saw that her eyes were bright. She was going to cry.
His hand shot out, pulling her back into his arms. He stared deep into the liquid pools of her eyes, all he had to do was dive in and he would drown in her soft supple body. Tony drew in a ragged breath. The temperature in the small kitchen had climbed to unbearable levels and sweat trailed down his face.
Dangerous was the only word that came to mind. Staying in her apartment would mean certain death to their relationship.
He would push.
She’d tell him she wasn’t ready.
His body would be out of control, and she would see him as a beast.
He would push some more.
She would say no and kick him out.
It was better if he went on his own accord.
“Marissa, I have to go now.”
“Why?” Her voice was whisper quiet and pulled at the deepest part of him.
“Don’t ask me to stay. I want it all or nothing. Once we sleep together, I won’t keep away, and I won’t accept your living here alone.”
“I’m not ready yet.”
“I know. That’s why I’m leaving.”
Using every ounce of discipline and strength he had, he broke away and headed for a quick exit. The doorknob felt cold and heavy in his palm, unmoving, almost like it wanted him to stay. He knew better. His mind was looking for any excuse to be with Marissa.
On the other side of the door was an empty house, no loving arms to hold him, and no one to listen to his fears, but he couldn’t risk her rejecting him again. He still had a chance, slim at best, but as long as Marissa was undecided, the possibility of reconciliation survived. He turned the knob and opened the door a crack, wishing Marissa would say something, but she didn’t.
The heat blasted Tony as he stepped outside. He would go to headquarters where he could maybe do something that made a difference.
Chapter 11
Arisa Fink swayed her hips in a provocative rhythm, causing everyone at the club to stare. The heat of a hundred pairs of eyes trained on her was salve to her ego. Her body responded, as it did most nights. Any stupid animal could tell she was in heat and this club was full of stupid animals. A smile played across her face as she rubbed her hips, garnering calls from
the men below.
Her mother had once told her, ‘That type of dancing will get you into trouble.’
Arisa hadn’t found any trouble dancing at Diamond ‘N Rubies. She had found a type of happiness that kept her warm at night. The customers loved her, and if her mother didn’t approve, so what.
She turned her back to the masses, ignoring the truth that reverberated in her head. She was lying to herself, but money was money and she almost had enough. Whoops of approval bounced off the club’s walls and spurred her on. Her jacket slid off her shoulders to the floor. She flung the cloth to the back of the stage, thinking that she’d pick it up later.
A spotlight highlighted her bare breasts, showing off the new nipple shields that looked way better on her than they ever had on Janet Jackson. Claudine, one of the other dancers, had told her so just minutes before she went on stage.
The men, and the few women, who came here loved her large breasts. She worked the crowd with all she had, moving from one end of the stage to the other. Her hands ran over her voluptuous curves, stoking the crowd into frenzy. Adrenalin pumped through her body, helping her believe she really loved this.
She pulled at the velcro holding her mini skirt together. In one quick rip she was rid of the scrap of cloth. The roar that started near the stage continued to the back. Her heart slammed in her chest, and a smile spread across her face. The money flew in front of her. A few brave souls reached up and placed the crisp dollars into her boots. She hated the touching, but the tips were worth the feel of the guys’ hands on her legs.
Fear snaked down her spine when one tall man raced his hand up the inside of her thigh and grabbed her micro thong before she could stop him. She needed to run away but couldn’t. Someone’s hands held onto her boots and one hand stroked the back of her knee. She was trapped.
Long fingers curled around the thin material at her crotch, pulling it tight. Her body jerked and flinched as his fingers rubbed and pinched her flesh. Hate blinded her, making her vision go dim.
Kicking the man was impossible. Hands grasped at her flesh as total strangers held onto her legs, groping her skin. Pain shot up her body as his hand rubbed her clit hard.
“Tug.” Her voice cracked as she yelled out over the din. The bouncer was supposed to be next to the stage. It was his job to stop this sort of thing from happening. In desperation, Arisa pushed her arms down, wedging the jerk’s hand out from between her legs. Her actions only opened her breasts to the groping.
Now hands squeezed her breasts and someone grabbed a nipple shield. Pain seared her chest as he pulled, almost ripping it out of her flesh. Wrapping her arms around her breasts, she pulled back, wobbling above the crowd. Fear gripped her as she almost fell.
Just as Arisa thought she was going to be mauled to death, two cowboys rushed the stage. The jerk with his hand between her legs licked his lips. He moved closer, his mouth only inches from her knees. She was pulled forward to the edge of the stage. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. The guy wasn’t letting go.
One of the cowboys grabbed her, wrapping his arms protectively around her body, shielding her breasts from unwanted touches. She cried out in pain as her thong was ripped from her body, leaving a burning sensation between her legs.
Arisa instinctively knew when Tug placed his hand on her arm, checking to make sure she was fine before he picked up the jerk that had assaulted her and carried him outside. God only knew what would happen to him once Tug got worked up.
Arisa’s feet left the floor as strong arms picked her up, carrying her off the back of the stage and into the dressing room. The small room was overly warm and filled with four other girls in various stages of undress. A warm feeling radiated around her chest, making her conscious of the cowboy’s eyes on her. He never looked away. His gaze focused only on her face.
His large hands were gentle on her body, yet he didn’t touch her in the spots where most men grabbed. She smiled up at him as he draped a towel over her, covering her nakedness.
“Thank you,” Arisa said in a choked whisper.
“You’re welcome,” the cowboy breathed out. His breath carried the scent of fresh mint. She liked that. “Ma’am, don’t worry about that jerk, he’ll be taken care of. If your bouncer doesn’t do it, then my buddies and I will make sure he never comes back.”
Liquid dripped onto her hand. She was crying. It had been years since she cried, and it felt damn good. The cowboy reached up and wiped away a tear with his thumb. The gentle feel of his hands on her face made more tears flow. Never had she been touched so lovingly, not even by her mother.
“What’s your name?”
“Don Phillips. And yours?”
“Arisa Fink.”
“Well, Arisa Fink, would you like to go out with me sometime?”
“The only night I don’t dance is Monday.”
“Then we’ll go to Manny’s on Monday at seven.”
“That sounds great. I’ll meet you there.” Arisa smiled. A date. She hadn’t had one of those in years. Usually men wanted to pay her for favors, not that she minded the extra cash. But sometimes she just wanted to be loved, to feel the warmth of another human that was given freely, not for profit.
The club had cleared out by Arisa’s next number, only twenty people sat at the tables, drinking Coke or Sprite. Alcohol service stopped at midnight, but the girls kept grinding and the music kept thumping until two. She didn’t strip down to her thong on this number, she only had one with her and that one had been ripped to shreds thanks to the loony who had assaulted her. The tips were good. She guessed that the few people who had stayed to see her last number pitied her.
She drove home on automatic pilot, as usual. Only a few weeks left, then she would have enough money to quit dancing if she sold her house and the surrounding acres. Her future was waiting for her, and after tonight, she was ready for it.
She uncurled her body from behind the steering wheel and traipsed up the three steps to the sagging porch of her country house. It wasn’t a palace, but it was home. The isolation kept her from spying neighbors and gossiping do-gooders. Just the way she liked it.
Arisa went from room to room, flipping on light switches, chasing the darkness away. She pulled the blinds closed in each room, blocking the out the rest of the world. On stage it was fine, but at home she lived modestly.
Pulling off her clothes, she winced as she ran her hand over her labia. The jerk had cut her, now she would have to go to the doctor. Their accusing stares always made her uncomfortable. Hypocrites. They didn’t understand that one day she was going to go to college. Her dancing money would pay for her bachelors in psychology, followed up with a few years of medical school. She wanted to help women become stronger, more powerful so they never had to submit to beatings and violence. She would be their champion. All she needed was ten thousand more in her savings account. Six weeks at the most. Hell, she could quit now if she moved into a dinky apartment.
She stepped into the shower and sighed. The hot water pounding against her back was soothing to her tired muscles. She worked the foamy bubbles of her shampoo through her hair twice, ridding herself of the stale tobacco scent that followed her home from the club. She squished the silky conditioner through her hair, covering each strand with its moisturizing goodness. She had to take care of herself. Dancers at Diamond ‘N Rubies were high class, not trailer park trash like at other clubs.
Arisa let the water run over her head and face, washing away the last traces of the club from her body. She opened her eyes to pitch black. She let out a piercing scream, and then she laughed. It was probably just a blown breaker, easy to fix. That happened often in the summer, usually during the day, but the lights had been known to go off unexpectedly at night from time to time.
Grabbing for a towel, she grasped a swath of material that wasn’t the soft fuzzy terrycloth of her towel. It was thick, like polyester. She recoiled, but not quickly enough. A hand grabbed at her arm, pulling her forward and out of the showe
r. The crack of a fist, hard against her temple sent her reeling to the floor. Her eyes closed and she passed out.
****
Arisa’s eyes fluttered open. Panic made her breath catch in her lungs as tears sprung to her eyes. She was at home, that much she knew. Her blue ceiling was dark above her. The house was quiet.
She tried to move her arms but couldn’t. She was cinched to the bedpost with strong cords. Her legs were held in place too, making it impossible for her to move. The panic she experienced earlier was nothing compared to the blatant fear causing her muscles to contract, making the bands tying her arms and legs even more painful.
Holding her head up, she looked for the person who had done this to her.
Nothing.
She lay back, wanting this nightmare to end now.
A noise startled her. It wasn’t sharp but droning in low tones. She lay still, trying to calm her thundering heart. Was that her vacuum? Someone was vacuuming her den and kitchen!
She listened for another five minutes. Five minutes of tortured thoughts about rape and mutilation. Then the intruder walked into her room, imposing on her space, sucking all of the air out with the running vacuum.
Arisa gasped for breath and the room spun before her. Where was her cowboy hero when she needed him? The intruder moved around the room, pushing her shoes and clothes out of the way. He extended the hose out of the back of the unit and attached a brush.
Tears welled in her eyes as he pushed the vacuum brush over her body, between her legs and across her face. She cried out when the brush was removed and the hose was pushed against her bruised legs. She wanted to scream, but no words would escape her lips. She was frozen in fear, unable to stop this craziness, yet wanting nothing more than to end the torture.
The noise stopped and the silence was sickening.
She longed for the steady hum of the vacuum. Anything was better than hearing her own body as he used a vibrator on her. It was one she had purchased two weeks ago and placed in the drawer next to her bed. She cried out in pain as he forced the shaft in hard and pulled out then pushed in again. Something tore inside of her and she screamed.
