by J. E. Taylor
Jennifer shrugged and waved toward the television. “Watching a movie.”
Bill leered at her with the same expression as the guys at the fraternity.
“Where’s Steve?” he asked, looking around.
“At the frat house. He had some homework to do.” She shrugged.
“Ah,” Tracy said, and stumbled again. Bill caught her with ease. He picked her up and disappeared down the hall.
Jennifer could hear Tracy giggling, which led to other noises she didn’t want to hear. She turned up the television volume and curled up on the couch. She had a tough time keeping her eyes open, drifting to sleep before the next commercial.
Chapter 28
Bill finished screwing Tracy and headed into the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later to find Tracy passed out and snoring. The television still blared down the hall, so he weaved his way to the living room and lowered the volume.
He stood watching Jennifer sleep for a while. Curled on her side with her top leg folded over the edge of the cushion, her dress slipped up her thigh revealing a glimpse of her underwear. With one hand under her cheek and the other arm draped behind her back, her position gave him a full view of her ample cleavage.
The small smile on her lips drove him mad.
He wanted to take her there on the couch. He wanted to feel her skin under his hands, under his body. He wanted to fuck her until she screamed. He crouched next to her and reached for her exposed thigh. Warmth radiated from her, stopping his hand less than a centimeter from her skin. He didn’t touch her thigh, but pushed the dress up a little and reached between her legs, lightly stroking the fabric of her underwear with his index finger.
Her body responded and she moved her leg higher, leaning into the couch and whispering Steve’s name.
Bill continued the gentle stroking, his heart pounding in his chest. He sped up, stroking her to the beat of his heart. If she woke, he would have to silence her a couple of days earlier than planned. He continued anyway, despite the consequences, and when she came in her sleep, he moved the edge of her underwear away, sliding his finger inside the wetness. He pulled his hand away. Sucking his finger, tasting her sweetness, he headed back to Tracy’s room, closing the door behind him.
He fucked Tracy’s unconscious body hard and fast, ridding himself of the built-up need.
Chapter 29
Jennifer woke up and stretched, smiling at the wetness between her legs and the gratified ache in her muscles. Her wet dream still colored her mind. Steve can even satisfy me in a dream. She turned the television off and headed to bed.
* * * *
When Jennifer came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her, Bill stopped halfway through the dressing room. He stared at her, the feel of her body still with him.
“Oh, hey, Bill,” Jennifer said, brushing her long locks. “How’s Tracy this morning?”
“Hangover from hell. I’m not far behind either.” He scurried out of the room.
Bill drained a glass of orange juice in the kitchen as Jennifer walked in. He smiled at the exceptionally hot combination of the white mini-skirt and blue shirt she wore with her wet hair flowing over her shoulders. “Steve’s a lucky guy,” he said, and he put the glass in the sink.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
Bill raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“I don’t like it when you check me out.”
“Since when?”
“What do you mean since when?”
“I’ve always checked you out. You didn’t seem to mind it for all these years.” He walked over to her and lifted her chin so she looked at his face. “Why does it bother you now?”
Jennifer floundered and stepped away from him. “Because the way you look at me is different now. It’s no longer just appreciation.”
“Then what exactly is it you see?” he asked curious to hear her answer.
“Anticipation,” she spat.
Bill let out a laugh. “Your little episode yesterday must have messed with your mind more than you realize,” he said, but his eyes betrayed him as they grazed her again.
“It’s never going to happen.” She stepped away and walked out of the apartment, leaving him watching after her.
“That’s what you think,” he whispered as he slipped on his shoes by the door. He let himself out and entered the lobby as she drove by in her car. “In less than thirty-six hours, to be exact.” He stepped out of the building and into the warm September sunshine. “Anticipation,” he laughed.
She’d hit that one dead on.
Chapter 30
Steve rolled out of bed, grumpy without Jennifer next to him. It seemed unnatural, and he marveled at how quickly the need stirred in him. He missed her and vowed this would be the last time he ever woke up without her by his side.
He scoured the internet for most of the night and came up with some interesting lore but it didn’t enlighten him as to how to stop the horrors happening in Brooksfield.
The urban legends provided the most interesting information. According to some obscure sources, the curse spewed forth from a dying Palawion who called a dark demon from the depths of hell to ravage any white man found on the sacred land. For years following his death, the area became a much bigger legend than the Bermuda Triangle, no white man dared to step onto Abinaqui territory.
Decades later, settlers came into the area with a witch doctor who swindled a deal with the demon, promising an annual sacrifice in return for reprieve in the attacks. When the demon took the deal, the lore said he was bound to the contract, which chained him to a small area of the forest as long as the sacrificial rites continued.
If the ritual was not performed to the demon’s satisfaction, he would be free of the bonds that kept him contained, allowing him to wreak havoc on the white man’s territory.
His mind wandered to the notebook and the implied meaning in relation to what he read and he shook his head. “No way. The girl is mine,” he whispered, yanking clothes out of his drawer. He headed toward the shower.
He made it to his eight o’clock class on time. Murphy looked like hell with dark bags under his eyes. Even his short military haircut looked disheveled. Steve wondered if they found any of the missing parts.
He didn’t pay much attention to class. His mind kept returning to two things—the way the frat boys looked at Jennifer, and the words in the notebook. The initiation ceremony gnawed on his conscience. What did it really entail?
Visions of Jennifer falling prey to satanic rituals preyed on his mind—teeth tearing at her in cannibalistic sacrament, rape, torture, and blood sacrifices to a dark god.
He shivered, shaking his head slightly to lose the morbid nightmare rolling behind his eyes. He doodled on the page of his notebook, prompting more questions than answers. Bloody letters soaked into the fabric of the paper again.
Stay away, she is mine!
“Bullshit,” Steve said aloud.
“Mr. Williams, do you have something to share with the class?” Murphy asked.
Steve stared at the paper, and then up at the classroom and shook his head. He exchanged a glance with Murphy and then lowered his eyes to the page. “No. Sorry for the interruption.”
“Please see me after class,” Murphy said and continued the lecture.
* * * *
Murphy climbed the steps and sat on the edge of the table in front of Steve. “What the hell is the matter with you?” he snapped as the door closed behind the last student.
Steve slowly turned the notebook. “Remember that leap I asked you to take yesterday? Try again and look at the center of the page.”
Murphy did. He saw a blank page. As he started to turn the notebook, red caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He snapped his attention back to the paper in awe as the words appeared in his peripheral view. When he moved his gaze directly to the page, it was still blank. “What the…” he trailed off and unfocused his eyes. He saw the fuzzy letters.
“Should have seen my
reaction the first time they appeared.”
“I must be overtired.” Murphy rubbed his eyes.
“Tell me what you see.”
“Stay away, she is mine,” Murphy replied. “Looks like it’s written in blood with the way the letters seep into the page.”
“Bingo.” Steve closed the notebook. “Still think its human?” He stood.
Murphy looked at him, dumbfounded.
“It wants Jennifer.” Steve pointed to the unassuming composition book lying on the desk. His lips pursed. “It isn’t going to get her.” He swept the notebook off the desk and spun towards the door.
“It still could be a person. There are such rare things as projecting thoughts onto paper.” He rubbed his eyes. “I’ve never seen it, but others in the bureau studying psychic activity have.”
“There’s a part of the bureau that studies paranormal events?” Steve asked. It was his turn to be dumbfounded and he fell back into his chair.
“A small unit.” Murphy pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Like the X Files?”
Murphy laughed. “No, not like the X Files.”
Steve shook his head, chuckling. “Well I’ll be damned.” He traded a glance from the notebook back to Murphy, shaking his head. “You need to be clear of the woods before tomorrow afternoon.” Steve stood again. “The initiation ceremony is supposedly taking place tomorrow night and it’s under the cover of a camping trip.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Murphy said. “Don’t forget, lunch tomorrow. I want to meet her and if she doesn’t show, I’m hauling you both in.”
“I know. We’ll be there.” Steve left the room. He trotted to his next class, slipping through the door a few minutes late again.
The professor turned, staring at him. “Mr. Williams, you are late yet again,” he said, drawing attention of the room to Steve.
“My professor wanted a word with me after my eight o’clock class.”
“I don’t care. I thought I was clear on Tuesday—I give one and only one chance to be late. As of right now, the highest grade you can get in this class is a B.” He turned back toward the board.
“I disagree,” Steve replied. An argumentative mood scraped over his skin like rough sandpaper. He stood and trotted down the steps to the floor near the professor, gazing in the open lesson book. “I could teach this class more accurately than you and be entertaining in the process instead of making everyone fall asleep.”
The professor’s entire face went red and he didn’t speak.
“Don’t have a coronary,” Steve said, picking up the lesson book. “If I can accurately teach the class today, will you waive my being late?”
The entire classroom watched with slack jaws.
“Get out of my classroom,” the professor sputtered when he found his voice.
“Law is all about negotiation, professor. I’m negotiating for an A. Aren’t you the least bit curious whether I can do this or not? Whether I know your material well enough?”
“You were late. I only give one warning.” The professor stood fast.
Steve closed the book, handed it to the professor, and walked out; grabbing his notebook on the way past his desk, leaving stunned silence in his wake.
Steve sat on the bench in the warm sun, frustrated.
He flipped open his phone and pressed speed dial.
“I just pissed off Professor Lang,” he said to Murphy.
“What happened?” Murphy sighed into the phone.
“I told him I could teach the material better than he did and he threw me out. I guess I’m dropping the class,” Steve said, looking out at the campus. He had less than an hour before his next class. “And by the way, what the hell am I doing in a public relations class?”
“You have to ask after what you just pulled?”
Steve started to laugh. “Okay, I guess I deserved that. I’ll check in later.”
“Don’t piss off any other faculty members today.”
“I’ll do my best.” Steve folded the phone up. He walked over to the building where his PR class was and stretched out on a stone bench, waiting for the hour to go by.
“What are you doing here so early?” Jennifer walked up to him.
“I got kicked out of class.” He tilted his head back so he could look at her.
“What?” She took a seat next to him when he sat up on the bench.
“I’m very good at pissing people off. And I think I pushed my last professor over the edge.” He relayed what he had done, including his exiting statements.
Jennifer sat with her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in surprise.
“That’s what everybody in the class looked like.” He laughed, pointing at her.
“Steve, that was just rude,” she said after the shock wore off.
“I didn’t wake up with you in my arms, so I’m a little pissy today. It won’t happen again.”
“What, you being pissy?”
“No, not waking with you in my arms,” he said, and the smile that graced her face made it worth it. “I missed you.” He didn’t tell her about the information he found online or the message in his notebook. He didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood.
“I dreamt about you,” Jennifer said and her cheeks budded into tiny rosy spots.
“Really?”
Jennifer nodded. “Really.”
“How was I?” he asked, perpetuating the humor.
“Almost as good as the real thing.” She looked at him sideways.
He laughed. “Well, after class, I’ll remind you just how good the real thing is.” He bumped her gently with his shoulder.
“I’d like that.” The blush took on a crimson tone.
“How would you like it today?” He grinned, prolonging the conversation just to see what color her cheeks would turn next.
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do.” He bumped her with his shoulder again. “Do you want control or do you want me in control?”
Jennifer thought about it. “I’m not sure. Maybe a little of both.” She raised her eyebrow at him.
He grinned and looked around, then back at her. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Chapter 31
“Can I have a piece of paper?” Steve asked when they sat down in the classroom.
Jennifer looked at the notebook and back at Steve. The smile on her face faded away. She slowly ripped a page off her pad and hand it to him. “What’d it say today?” she asked, motioning toward his notebook.
He glanced at her sideways. “You know, I’d rather just forget it for today.”
Jennifer was curious. “What did it say?”
Steve sighed and opened the book.
I am going to kill him.
Jennifer gasped and looked at Steve, her eyes wide with fright. I’ll be damned if I let that happen, she thought.
He closed the notebook. “It said something different for you, didn’t it?” He scanned the filling classroom before returning his gaze to her. “For me it said Stay away, She’s mine. Like that’s going to happen.” He rolled his eyes.
Jennifer glanced toward the front of the class and saw nothing. Her heart raced, drumming a beat in her chest like the quick tempo stanzas in Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. “No, mine didn’t say that,” she whispered, willing her lungs to relax. A distinct wheeze emanated from her, despite her efforts to control her breathing, and she focused on the instructor tapping his pencil on the podium to gain the attention of the class.
“You should have let me just forget it today,” he grumbled.
Jennifer reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze and letting go. She turned her full attention to the instructor.
* * * *
Steve stared at his hand and then moved his eyes, taking her in. The gesture was simple, yet it moved him. He didn’t want to be in the classroom and fidgeted in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk until Jennifer shot him a warning. He doodled on the paper and kept stealing
glances at her. So adorable, concentrating on what the teacher was saying and diligently taking notes, he wrote three words on the paper and slid it across the desk to her.
Jennifer glanced at the note and blushed. It was pretty crude but she nodded, grinning at him, handing it back.
Steve sat back in the chair and folded the paper, a smile still on his face. He glanced at the table in front of him and almost tumbled over in the chair when his legs involuntarily pushed away from the counter. Blood pumped out of the notebook all over the desk. It spilled over the edge and he slid further back, shooting a glance at Jennifer. Her wide eyes were glued to the red stain spreading over the counter top.
The blood ran off the front edge, onto the student sitting in the next row. He didn’t notice the gooey liquid dripping into his hair and oozing onto the collar of his shirt. Jennifer glanced around the room, catching a glare from the girl sitting next to her.
Jennifer turned back to Steve. He slightly shook his head and put his hand out. She took it and grabbed her books. He yanked her out of the classroom, leaving the seeping notebook on the desk and the instructor irritated at their abrupt departure.
“The notebook was fucking hemorrhaging. What the hell was that?” he cried when they hit the fresh air.
“It obviously doesn’t want us together.” Jennifer’s voice shook. “I think your note triggered it.”
“It didn’t like ‘fuck me later?’”
“Imagine if you’d said ‘fuck me now?”
What a ridiculous time for humor, but it worked. He laughed aloud. “This can’t be really happening. Notebooks don’t fucking bleed.” He practically dragged her across campus toward the parking lot.
“Can you slow down a little?”
He glanced at her and then scanned their surroundings. “Sorry,” he said, slowing his pace. “I’m just a little freaked out right now.” He flipped open his phone and pressed a number. “Is anyone at the cabin?” he asked. “Okay.” He flipped the phone closed. “Looks like it’s your place.” He glanced over at her.
Jennifer scanned the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”
