Don't Judge a Book
Page 9
Detective Murphy sat outside of Riley’s house slouched in the seat of his Buick and looked through binoculars. He firmly believed in his mind this guy was dangerous to Angelica and he had no intentions of letting anything happen to her.
If Kirk was to be honest he really wasn’t much different than Bill. He too had developed a need for being in control years ago. He also had a nasty little habit of what professionals liked to refer to as a Hero Complex. It wasn’t so much the egotistical aspects of needing to be a hero, it was guilt.
He needed to make up for all of those cases where someone’s life had been taken and he hadn’t been able to intervene. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself he had done all he could. The guilt still pressed in on him; at times weighing him down much more than he cared to admit.
He would follow this guy relentlessly, if it meant it kept Angelica out of danger. He was convinced Bill wasn’t protecting her. If he was, Riley wouldn’t have been able to get to her and beat the shit out of her.
No, she needed a trained cop to protect her from danger—she needed him. Kirk was one of the few people who wasn’t impressed, or enamored with Bill’s social status, and he damn sure wasn’t scared of his threats. He’d made up his mind that it was his duty to make sure this girl was protected. After all, it was partly Bill’s fault the girl was in this situation since it was his brother causing all of the problems.
Kirk had heard the rumors of how Bill had systematically and methodically taken his father out financially. They were all just a bunch of silver spoon sneaks as far as he was concerned, not real men such as himself who dealt with bad guys on a daily basis. Yes, in his mind Angelica needed a hero, and he was just the man for the job.
Bill ran his finger over his bottom lip, as he sat at his desk deep in thought. His little pest of a brother had begun to get on his nerves. He was used to being in control—hell, he had spent a lifetime mastering the art of being in control. When issues came up that threatened the control he had gone to great lengths to gain, it never set well with him.
To put it bluntly, he was between a rock and a hard place because Riley was family. Though he didn’t view him as such—blood is thicker than water. No matter how warped the connection was, the fact remained that he and Riley shared the same father. If I attempted to have him locked up, Riley would pay his lawyers to get him out of it. If I killed him, it would upset mother and then I would go to prison. I was going to have to call someone in on this, because it was going to take a professional to take out the trash. It was going to take a man by the name of Miller. Calling Miller in was a desperate measure, but desperate times called for desperate measures…
Miller had spent much of his life being a killer. At one time he had done it for the military, but it didn’t take long after his stint there to realize old habits die hard. He enjoyed killing and since he wasn’t able to do it for Uncle Sam anymore, he utilized his craving for pain and death as a hit man. The money was great, there was no doubt about that. The clients he catered to went as high up as the government, but it was the thrill of the kill that kept Miller in the game.
He eyed the high-rise window from the seat of his SUV and watched as the tall blonde sat in a chair and spread her legs in his direction. He spoke into his phone, “Get those fucking panties off girl!”
He watched his laptop screen and zoomed the hidden camera he had placed in her high-rise apartment in on the honey pot her spread legs revealed.
“That’s a good girl, now spread those lips open you little vixen.”
“You are a voyeur, Miller.”
“One of these days you are going end up with my ten inch cock making its way up into you.”
“Promises, promises,” she moaned, as her body began to respond to his voice. It responded as much to his voice, as it did the finger that slowly circled the nub of nerves.
“Stroke your cock and roll that window down—I don’t believe it’s that big.”
“You’re asking for it, little girl.”
Miller rolled the window down and allowed her to see his carved out features for the first time. Everything was visible with the binoculars she held in her opposite hand.”
He pulled down on the base of his cock and looked up in her direction. “Still want to argue measurements with me?”
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Miller. Pump it baby, I want to see you come.”
“You first, baby girl.”
As if on cue the lady waiting on the other end of the phone line cried out as her legs trembled. Phone sex with Miller was better than real sex had ever been with any man. She watched as his seminal fluid erupted into a rag he held nearby. His groan satisfied a need in her to know he wouldn’t be with another woman tonight. What she had no way of knowing due to her illness, was that Miller hadn’t been with another woman since the day that he first laid eyes on her.
“I have to go baby girl, duty beckons. When you’re ready to quit being afraid and find refuge with me, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Alright Miller, I’ll think about it.”
He knew she would say that and he also knew due to the agoraphobia she suffered from—he would have to take her, and that was exactly what he planned on doing…
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Angelica, you have a call on line one,” Mrs. Taylor informed me. I felt a pang of irritability course through me at the sound of her voice. I knew that she still spied on me for Bill and I have never tolerated a kiss ass employee well.
“Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Angelica, its Kirk. How are you today?”
“I’m fine Kirk. How can I help you?”
“Well, I was wondering if you could have lunch with my mother and me. She has a small antique shop in the St. Mathew’s district and she needs a commercial written up. I really didn’t know who else to call in your particular line of work.”
I found myself being grateful for the fact Bill was in a meeting before I agreed to the lunch date. I needed to be working some of my own accounts. It still bothered me periodically how I had become more dependent on him for accounts.
A part of my psyche still couldn’t get past the fact I needed to maintain a sense of independence, and the best way to accomplish that would be by financial independence.
I grabbed my sweater and made my way down the hall towards the elevator. I could feel Mrs. Taylor’s eyes on me and I imagined her picking up the phone and calling Bill as soon as I was out of earshot. The small café where we would be able to have lunch outside was only a block away and the weather accommodated both the walk and lunch outdoors. I was actually kind of looking forward to it.
The sun felt good on my face as I made my way down the block and took in the sites of downtown. The area which had once been overrun with crime, prostitution, bars, and strip joints, had now been cleaned up and turned into a place that tourists came to shop and take leisurely carriage rides. I waved at a carriage driver I had seen on quite a few occasions and jogged across the street towards a smiling Kirk and his mother.
I placed my sweater over the back of the chair and eyed Kirk’s mother and it was evident that she was his mom. It was apparent she had passed on to her son her striking red hair and vivid green eyes. I have always had a weakness for red heads and had I not been engaged, I would have found Kirk to be quite handsome.
I sat taking a large drink of water and spoke, “Well, what can I do for you?”
“You come highly recommended by my son and I need a thirty second spot on TV for my shop.”
I found it odd that Kirk would highly recommend me when I didn’t even know him, and my curiosity far outweighed my ability to overlook the statement.
“When have you seen my work, Kirk?”
He leaned in as he spoke, pinning me to my seat with his vibrant green eyes and I couldn’t help but feel flushed. I could only imagine how a perpetrator would feel under that gaze.
“Your reputation precedes you, as do your many commercials.” I
watched as the corner of his lip turned up and a mischievous look crossed his face. “You don’t actually think I didn’t do my homework on you, do you? I’m a cop, it’s in my nature to research.”
His mother chuckled. “Now Kirk, don’t scare the poor woman to death.”
He never took his eyes off of me as he spoke, “She doesn’t scare easy, Mother.”
The rest of our lunchtime was uneventful, but I did find it odd when he picked up my phone and began punching in contact numbers—both he and his mother’s were inserted into it.
“I’ll be contacting you with details later this week, Angelica,” he leaned in whispering as he finished the sentence, “That is if I can pry you away from that fiancé of yours.”
I answered with more confidence than what I was presently feeling. “This is business Kirk, I’m a big girl and I can handle my end of things.”
“We’ll see,” he chuckled.
I had a two-fold reason for stating this was a business luncheon—to remind myself, and to let him know this was business and nothing more. I had no interest in Kirk or any other man. My hands were quite full with the man I presently had.
I quickly made my way back to the office, not wanting to be late. I could already hear my heart rapidly beating in my ears when I exited the elevator and heard Mrs. Taylor alerting Bill to my return from lunch.
What a brownnoser!
Bill wasted no time as he told her not to disturb him and locked the door. He stalked his way towards me and eyed me as he began to twirl a lock of my hair between two of his fingers, but said nothing.
I looked up at the man who had inserted himself into my life. His copper locks were tamed due to the fact he was at work. The suit he wore spoke of power and success and his eyes cut through me as if he knew all of my deep dark secrets. His sculpted face looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine, instead behind the desk of a CEO.
“Why are you nervous, love? Do you think you’re in trouble?”
I raised my chin and looked him in the eye. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You don’t feel having lunch with a man who wants to fuck you is wrong?
“I had lunch with his mother, Bill. What, are you having me followed?”
“You bet your sweet ass I am. You aren’t supposed to be going anywhere without your driver.”
“It’s embarrassing to be driven everywhere.”
When he chuckled, it was more of a sinister tone—rather than an amused one. He spoke as if I weren’t in the room.
“This is one of the reasons I find you to be so intriguing. Any other woman would enjoy being seen with a driver, the image of it all would be intoxicating.”
“Well Bill, I’m working accounts, not trying to reap from the benefits of your social status.”
He leaned in and growled in my ear, “What happens when the belt comes off? Answer me, Angel.”
“It gets used.”
“It’s coming off tonight.”
I hated it when he did this—now thoughts of what he was going to do to me would plague me for the rest of the day. I decided to try something different.
“I didn’t do anything and I don’t think I should be in trouble.”
“Already trying to backtrack so soon in the game, Angel? You know how I love to hear you beg and if you continue, I may have to exact retribution here in the office. Are you sure you want to go there?”
Shit, that didn’t work.
I rolled my eyes as a form of rebellion and went back to work.
“I saw that, Angel. It’s going to be delicious punishing you later.”
I never looked up—I didn’t need to, I could feel the heat of his gaze already. Everything in me wanted to tell him to stop staring at me, but at this point he was keeping track of any offenses and punishment was inevitable.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As I hung from a chain in the middle of the room Bill mischievously termed the playroom, I couldn’t help but note how he had full access to my body. Unlike a spanking bench or a St. Andrews cross, this simple chain held me in a position that gave Bill not only full access, but the thing he loved most, complete control.
I could feel the rapid palpitations of my heart, I was scared—he knew it, and he liked it.
“Bill please...”
“Shh, your punishment is going to happen. I told you it what I would do.”
“I have to work. I have to have my own accounts.”
He viciously grabbed my chin and squeezed. “In case you can’t tell, I’m fucking pissed! Do you really want to keep talking?”
I shook my head as tears rolled down my cheeks and I gave in to the ineluctable.
“Do you know what this is?” he questioned, as he stood in front of me and flexed the cane he held.
“I’ll take it from the way you’re frantically shaking your head no, that you know exactly what it is.”
“No please! I swear I didn’t do anything! His mother was there the whole time!”
“Though this is about him, this is also about the fact you put yourself in danger by not using the driver whom I so graciously provided you with.”
“I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t use it.”
He leaned in with a very sinister look on his face and whispered, “Too late.”
I heard the wind carry the cane through the air, as the first strike hit my virgin and delicate skin. Dancing around on my toes did no good and I most certainly wasn’t listening as he spoke.
“This time only five strikes. I’m being merciful. Next time it will be ten”
This did not feel like mercy.
My head hung to the side as he released me and placed me on my stomach in the middle of a large rod-iron bed that inhabited one wall of the room. He gently palmed my lower back pushing my upper body down, but raised my hind end in the air. I groaned as he bent down and lapped at my core.
“You are so fucking wet, I could bottle you and drink it.”
I cried out as a finger went into my soaked opening and the suctioning action of his lips took me to the edge of an orgasm, only for him to stop.
I fisted the sheets as tears continued to make their way down my cheeks—not due to the pain of the whipping, but the pain of denial.
He began to taunt me with the crown of his cock as he twirled it around my opening playing in my juices.
“Bad girls don’t get to come.” His voice went ice cold as he fisted my hair and jerked my head back in order to growl his mandate in my ear, “You stay the fuck away from him!” Using my hair as a type of rein, he plunged into me and hissed directly in my ear, “Mine!”
My body exploded on impact with him. How in the world could something that hurt so badly—feel so fucking good?
This man who had invaded my life by sheer will and determination was slowly but surely creating a hunger within me that no one but him could fill.
I listened as if in a fog of distance to him run bath water. He gently took my body and placed it between his legs in the tub. It was as if he was caring for a priceless, porcelain doll as he washed my hair and gently cleansed my body. I was laid on the bed afterwards and a minty lotion was rubbed into my sore aching muscles.
Bill was doing what he always did when he took my hand and led me into the darkness that was Bill—he was safely leading me back to reality. Though once again I would be led back into a world of responsibilities and demands, there would be a part of me which would remain in this time and space. She would beckon to me to come and join her from time to time, but I would always need Bill to make the journey with me. I could fight being connected to him all I wanted to, but the fact remained that he owned a part of me that no man would ever be able to lay claim to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Riley eyed the totally incompetent barista. “It isn’t rocket science, it’s a cup of coffee sweetie.” The poor girl’s hand shook, as once again she tried to make the demanding customer’s coffee to his liking. Finally on this the thi
rd and last time, Riley threw the money on the counter down to the last dime, making certain not to leave a tip. Coins bounced off of the counter and onto the floor and it only solidified what she already knew—the guy was a complete ass.
Riley’s expensive trench coat blew in the wind behind him as he made his way into the back alley. He had been too cheap to pay for parking and today that decision would cost him his life. He never saw the man who came up behind him and placed a bullet in the back of his skull.
As quickly as one would flip the switch on a wall, Riley had entered into eternity with nothing but a life that had solely been spent on his own personal gain and pleasure. For all of the gains he had obtained materialistically, he had nothing to attribute to true wealth. Though he had been born with a silver spoon, he died a mere pauper.
There would no accolades of good deeds he had done to help those less fortunate, there would only be vultures awaiting the reading of a greedy man’s will. To put it in a nutshell, Riley had done nothing worthwhile with the life he had been given. Not only would his body be a matter of ashes to ashes, the memory of him would be mere dust in the winds of time…
Miller walked with his baseball cap clad head down and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. Though he wore combat boots, he was light on his feet and Riley never saw him coming. One bullet in the back of his head and Miller was tossing his dead body and wallet to the side. He removed the Rolex he wore and emptied the wallet before jumping into his Jaguar.
To the naked eye this would appear to be nothing but the carjacking of a wealthy man making his way through an alley. Miller pulled the baseball cap further down over his eyes as he exited the mouth of the alley. He had been in the game long enough to know that he wasn’t just dealing with potential witnesses to a crime; he was dealing the all seeing eye of big brother. Technology had made crime more of a challenge but Miller was never one to shy away from a challenge, in fact, he thrived on it.
This was a paycheck, nothing more, nothing less. Every paycheck got him closer to the woman he watched, because every paycheck got him closer to buying the secluded island he had his eye on purely for the reason of having her at his will. True—it was drastic, but drastic times called for drastic measures…