CORE Shadow [1] Shadow of Danger

by Kristine Mason

  “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, with mock admonishment as he pulled his shirt over his head.

  She shifted up, and attacked his belt. “Is it one you think you can live with?” she asked as she shoved his pants and boxers over his hips.

  His erection bobbed as he toed off his shoes and removed his socks. Then using his elbows to keep from crushing her, he settled his hard, naked body over hers. “On one condition,” he murmured as his arousal kissed her sex.

  “What’s that?” she asked, breathless, her insides coiling with sensual anticipation.

  “No gnomes in the bedroom.”

  She ran her palms over the valleys and groves along his biceps, loving the feel of him. “Performance anxiety?” she teased, then groaned as he impaled her with a quick thrust of his lean hips.

  “I just want you all to myself,” he said, punctuating each word with long, deep thrusts.

  What had started out as playful suddenly turned carnal. Without teasing foreplay, he drove himself hard between her thighs. This was what she wanted. This was what he hadn’t allowed her to see before. While tenderness and love still shown in the dark depths of his eyes, he’d finally let himself go.

  He held nothing back. With each touch, stroke and rock of his hips, she sensed more from him than words could ever convey.

  His love poured though her, in her, and settled so deeply in her heart and soul, she knew she’d never be the same. They shared a bond that could never be broken. A trust, an understanding, and a love strong enough to combat any obstacle that might come their way.

  He’d said he loved her. She’d declared her love, as well. But to feel that love coursing through her body, took her to a higher, more intensely sensual and emotional level. She never wanted it to end. She wanted to keep that steady connection sizzling through her, but he was driving her closer to the edge of release.

  His hard length penetrated, his coarse hair rasped against her clit. The friction became too much. Her over-sensitized body sought release. Moaning, groaning, wanting the orgasm each swift thrust of his hips promised, she still held back. She wanted the moment to last longer, to last forever.

  “Come for me, baby.” He dropped to his elbows again as he drove impossibly deeper. Skin to skin, her nipples rasping against the dusting of hair along his chest, he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the arch of her neck. “Let me hear you,” he demanded, his hot breath fanning across her lips.

  Digging her heels into his tight rear, gripping his back with her fingers, she sought his mouth. His kiss.

  He delivered. Catching her moans with his lips and tongue, he mimicked each sensual drive of his hips, each potent penetration of his hard arousal, until her world began to slant and spiral.

  Sensations she’d never known existed tore through her, radiated through her soul and set her body on fire. Whimpering, groaning, panting hard, she let go.

  Crying out his name, she came in a rush. As the orgasm ripped through her, her muscles contracted around his thick arousal. He locked his eyes on hers and groaned her name over and over again, his love pouring into her until his entire body grew rigid with his own climax.

  Breathless, she held him to her, and for the first time in her life, she realized she’d found her place in the world.

  And that place was with John.

  Chapter 22

  The ICU nurse with a penchant for little girls was unfortunately on vacation at the moment. With the shit he had on him, the man would have made an ideal Grim Reaper. He would have flashed the few pictures he’d had on the nurse, drooling as he’d hiked up his neighbor’s eight-year-old daughter’s skirt, and bingo. Garrett would no longer be a loose string.

  Too bad, he thought as he sat in the far corner of the dimly lit parking lot of Eau Claire Memorial Hospital, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He could have reaped double justice of his own with that sick bastard. The nurse would have killed Garrett to save his reputation, and in turn he’d kill the nurse because he preyed on innocent little girls.

  Who the hell does that?

  The second on his list as Garrett’s personal Grim Reaper had broken both her collar bone and wrist with a supposed fall. Bullshit. He knew all about her, too. She was one of those dominatrix types. Into the kinky side of things with her gal pals, and apparently things had gone further than planned.

  Which left him his third and last choice. Evie Lumbford.

  Twenty-something with a fetish for drugs—he still didn’t understand how she’d ended up employed in a hospital—she’d do anything for a fix. Even if she did refuse to do what he’d demand, he’d make sure a day in his workshop would change her mind.

  His dick throbbed as anticipation built. The nurse who liked little girls would have been gutted, and buried deep in the woods. The other one, well, he would have enjoyed showing the dominatrix who was boss before killing her.

  Evie?

  She was hard on the eyes, her IQ bordered on retardation, and the drugs she took had likely fried what little smarts she had left. But she would serve his purpose. In more ways than one. Once she took care of Garrett, he’d use her as his...rehearsal.

  He pictured Celeste and all of the things he wanted to do to her. She was so much prettier than his Deb. When he would finally have the opportunity to slice Celeste while fucking her at the same time...he wanted to make sure he did it right. He wanted the extreme pleasure. After all, once he shoved his hunting knife into her stomach, there would be no turning back, no second chances for a do over.

  Dead is dead.

  He came alert and sat straighter as Evie exited the door the hospital employees used when taking a smoke break. She lit a cigarette, the flame from the lighter casting a glow over her features. With eyes too far apart, a nose upturned like a pig’s snout, and teeth that hung over her bottom lip, the woman gave a new meaning to the definition of ugly. No matter her face, she’d do.

  He had no other choice at this point. He was out of options and time.

  Thinking about time had him glancing at the clock on the center console of his truck. Half past ten. He had to leave, but he’d be back in the morning after Evie finished her twelve hour shift. She usually worked six to six as one of the hospital’s custodial skeleton crew, and moved under the radar of suspicion. No one would consider dumb, ugly, little Evie Lumbford a threat. With Garrett heavily sedated after his freak show, crybaby shit, he doubted the Eau Claire prison guard that had been placed in front of his hospital door was on full alert. Hopefully Garrett would remain incapacitated.

  He’d heard that Garrett had accused his “brother” of being his partner. No name, though. Still, he’d almost panicked. Almost. But when he’d learned that his doctor doped him up, to the point Garrett didn’t even know his own name, he’d relaxed and devised plan C. Evie Lumbford.

  He knew he was taking a risk, but again, he didn’t have a choice. He most certainly couldn’t waltz into Garrett’s room and kill him. While he would have preferred to have him dead sooner rather than later, the timing hadn’t been right. By the time Garrett had woken from his coma, little, ugly Evie had already started her shift. So now he had to hope that Garrett remained a virtual vegetable until Evie made her rounds tomorrow. He’d have her go to ICU to perform her regular rounds cleaning rooms, and when she entered Garrett’s, she’d finish off the bastard.

  A simple plan.

  And if she were caught or went to the cops? His only disappointment would be that he’d lost a lab rat. He would never allow her to see his face, or his home and workshop. She’d have no knowledge of who he was, but by the time he was finished with her tomorrow afternoon before her shift began, she would know what he was capable of doing.

  And if Garrett woke and told them about him? He had a plan for that, as well. One that he’d already set in motion. His hidey-hole in the woods was well stocked. He could disappear there, and with the food and water he’d stored over the weeks, live there for months undetected. When the search for him grew cold, h
e’d use the money, fake IDs and passports he’d accumulated and put Wisconsin behind him.

  As he drove out of the parking lot, an inner peace settled within him. Garrett would hopefully be dead by this time tomorrow, leaving him two last loose strings.

  Guilt no longer entered the equation when he thought about Garrett lying dead and rotting in a pine box. They’d had their fun, but he’d become too much of a liability. Besides, when it came to them killing together, the old adage, three’s a crowd, rang true.

  Garrett had crowded him, had suffocated the raw need to dominate the means and facilitation of how the women they’d taken suffered and died. A cord around the neck had become boring and anticlimactic. He needed more to regain the rush he’d felt when they’d started killing twelve years ago. He needed a replacement for the incredible orgasm that shot through him when he’d stared into Garrett’s eyes as he gave the whores they’d killed what they deserved. After the time he’d spent with his Deb, his fifteen-inch hunting knife had given him what he needed. A release as powerful and potent as any drug. A powerful and potent replacement for Garrett.

  As he drove home, to her, dark talons of lust sank their claws inside him, hardened his dick to the point of pain, and caused him to break into a sweat. The stress brought on by Garrett’s original arrest, Hoyt’s failure to kill him, and now the uncertainty of whether Garrett would reveal his identity had him on the verge of running before even placing plan C into motion.

  He sought the peace that had settled over him as he’d left the hospital parking lot before a full-blown panic attack overtook him. Gripping the steering wheel with sweaty palms, and clenching his jaw tight, he fought back the anxiety, the haze of fear. He thought about Evie Lumbford.

  Ugly Evie.

  She would be his eyes and ears. He would make her tell him what gossip traveled around the hospital regarding Garrett. He’d even have her place a few phone calls while he held her in his workshop. Monitored of course. Gossip traveled fast in the hospital, and if Garrett did wake and tell the Sheriff and Kain about him, he’d know, and he’d run.

  The peace returned. His heart rate slowed, and now the sweat cooled his feverish skin. Everything would go according to plan. Garrett would die, thanks to Ugly Evie, and while Roy and Kain tripped over themselves trying to figure out who Garrett’s partner was, he’d have fun experimenting on Evie.

  After that, he’d take care of the noose around his neck. He’d finally be able to free himself of the necessary mirage and burden. She’d served her purpose, but at this moment, with the lust and need for release—any release—still burning his brain cells, a part of him wished he hadn’t broken her. Not out of love, there was only one being on the planet that he loved, and he would be dead this time tomorrow. Right now, he needed a body, willing or not, to ease him until he took what he needed from Evie.

  Impossible. He shook his head in the dark cab of his truck as he eased into his driveway. He couldn’t use the bitch in his bed tonight. He’d have to wait. For Evie. The appetizer to his main course. Celeste.

  *

  Dr. Alex Trumane sat at the counter of the diner, stunned and staring at Kira’s sugary sweet smile.

  “Well?” she asked, her hazel eyes sensual, wanting, yet holding a hint of nervousness.

  She had asked him out on a date. To be precise, she’d asked him over to her apartment for dinner. While elated at the prospect of actually spending quality time with her outside of the diner, he also panicked at the thought.

  He hadn’t had a date since he’d been sober, and before that, he wouldn’t call meeting a woman in a hotel, doing drugs, drinking and a night of sexual debauchery a date. He hadn’t taken a woman to a restaurant or to a movie since he’d been married, and even then, those evenings had been a rarity. Because he hadn’t been able to stay sober, he hadn’t been able to remain faithful.

  While he’d changed for the better, he knew in the depths of his soul that given the chance, he’d never betray Kira’s trust by falling off the wagon and womanizing again. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, make love to her. He wanted to wake in the morning to her bright smile, and fall asleep at night with her lying next to him.

  He’d love nothing more than to take her from this crappy diner, give her financial security, pretty clothes, a new car, and exotic vacations. How could he, though? Once he found Number Twenty-Two, his life could change for the worse. He could face the loss of his medical license. Hell, he could face a prison sentence.

  “I’m sorry I put you on the spot.” Kira absently wiped the counter, the disappointment evident on her pretty face. “Forget I asked.”

  He grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “You didn’t put me on the spot. You just surprised me. Honestly, I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She cocked her head. “Really,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

  Grinning, he rubbed his thumb across her rough knuckles. She had nice hands, but working at the diner had left them raw and chapped. He’d add weekly manicures and pedicures to all the things he wanted to give to her. “It’s true.”

  “Uh-huh, so then what have you been waiting for?”

  The million dollar question and one he’d answer honestly. He’d learned from his mistakes and refused to begin a relationship with Kira based on lies. “I, uh, needed to make sure I came to you a whole man.”

  She dropped the rag on the counter and gripped his hand with both of hers. “What are you talking about, Alex?”

  “AA’s twelve steps, I haven’t completed them yet. I think the only way I can feel...worthy enough to be with you, is to complete the program.”

  “Admirable,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “And I respect you for wanting to succeed. But don’t let those twelve steps be your only guidance. Let your heart guide you, too. I’ve been where you are. I know what you’ve gone through, what you’ll continue to go through.”

  “And you still want to get involved with me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You’re funny, when you’re not being so serious. You’re smart, thoughtful, and ah...” She wet her bottom lip before glancing around the diner. “Quite a hunk of man,” she added, lowering her voice to a sexy, husky drawl.

  He laughed even as his cheeks heated. He didn’t think he’d ever been called a hunk in his life. “You’re something else,” he said. “Something very special.”

  “So, does this mean you’ll come over for dinner?”

  “As much as I’d love a home-cooked meal, for our first date, I want to take you somewhere nice.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to. I’m tired of watching you wait on everybody else. You deserve to be waited on and treated like a princess.”

  A blush stole across her cheeks. “My best dress is from a thrift shop. I’m more pauper than princess.”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “You’re a doctor. I don’t want to embarrass you.”

  “Embarrass me? Kira, before I became clean and sober, I was a despicable, selfish man. I would drive around in my flashy car, drunk, high, with even flashier women while my wife and kids sat at home. I’m embarrassed by my past. Embarrassed and ashamed for everything I’ve done.” Number Twenty-Two flashed in his mind. “If anything, you should be embarrassed to be seen with me.”

  “You’re a good man, Alex. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, least of all yourself. I’d be honored to go to dinner with you.”

  “Kira,” the short order cook shouted. “The food’s not gonna walk itself to the table.”

  “I’ve got to run.”

  “I do, too.” The diner would start to fill with the bar crowd, and he wanted a chance to research Wissota Falls for any link to Number Twenty-Two. Miranda Gates. “When is your next night off?”

  “Sunday.”

  “Sunday it is, then. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  She quickly scribbled her number on her note pad, then handed it to him. “I�
�m looking forward to Sunday.” She gave him a shy smile, then quickly turned and retrieved the plates of food waiting under the heat lamps.

  “Me, too,” he murmured to himself, then after leaving her a hefty tip, he sauntered into the balmy night. As he walked toward his car, he passed numerous bars along the way without an ounce of temptation.

  He didn’t need to complete the whole twelve steps to come to Kira as a whole man. But he did need to find Miranda before he could offer Kira the love and life she deserved. His past embarrassments, the shame and disgrace he’d placed upon his family, would pale in comparison if he lost his medical license, or even worse, ended up in prison.

  AA’s twelve steps had forced this journey to atonement. He could quit his search and simply cross Number Twenty-Two from his list and leave Miranda in the past. He’d made headway with his family and friends. Why dredge up something that could ruin the life he’d struggled to put back together?

  Because the only thing he’d ever quit in his life had been alcohol. He wasn’t a quitter, and quitting his search was not an option. Not because of the twelve steps, they were there for guidance as Kira had said. No, his heart and conscience had been guiding him on this search. Now he prayed Anna Gates’s will would help guide him the rest of the way.

  Chapter 23

  Ugly Evie Lumbford sat strapped to a wooden chair. Duct tape kept her hands and feet immobile. An old rag shoved into her mouth would keep her screams muffled once she woke. If she woke, he thought and scratched an itch through the ski mask that had begun to grow suffocating.

  Shortly after six this morning, with dark, gray clouds hiding the early morning light, he’d attacked her as she’d walked home from her night shift at the hospital. Wearing the ski mask, along with a mechanic’s jumpsuit he’d soak in bleach later—as he’d always done after a kill—he’d slapped a rag doused with chloroform over her mouth until she’d grown limp and passed out cold. Petite and weighing next to nothing, he’d easily stashed her in his waiting truck, then he’d brought her to his workshop.