Arriving at her bedroom, Lloyd ushered her inside, kicked the door shut behind them, even though they were alone, and shoved her down onto the bed.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered harshly, tugging his shirt off over his head and throwing it on the floor before his hands fell to the buckle of his belt.
With shaking hands and wide eyes, Sonya complied, getting excited. She knew Lloyd wouldn’t hurt her and she wondered what he had planned.
After only moments, they were both naked.
Sonya watched as he bent down and withdrew something from the pocket of his discarded pants: handcuffs.
She wiggled backwards on the bed, glancing from his face to the steel rings connected by a chain, which he held in his hands.
“Lloyd…” she whispered.
“Shh, babe,” he said. “I have plans for you.” He knelt on the bed, reached forward, and captured her wrists. “Lay down.”
She bit her bottom lip and did as she was told, willingly letting him restrain her by handcuffing her to the headboard.
He looked down at her and stood back up beside the bed, letting his eyes roam over her naked body.
She could see he was very aroused, and the anticipation of having him caused a throbbing ache inside her that needed to be soothed. She started to pant with excitement.
“I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll never forget you’re mine,” he said, running the tips of his fingers up her leg, over her hip, across her ribcage, and between her breasts, barely touching her.
She whimpered. “I know I’m yours,” she sighed. “I love being yours.”
He knelt over her again.
“You’re going to love being mine even more when I get done with you,” he said, and leaned forward, kissing her lips slowly.
***
Sonya woke up when a faint metallic click sounded above her head and her wrists were freed. She forced her eyes open a crack to watch Lloyd kiss each of her wrists before laying her arms gently across her chest. She smiled, stretched, and purred, before turning on her side, facing away from him, and wiggling backwards to snuggle.
He wrapped his arm around her narrow waist, pulled her tight against him, and kissed her shoulder.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She wiggled and enjoyed the delicious aches where her body throbbed from his attention.
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” she sighed, and wiggled against him. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her shoulder.
“Good, I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I have to go soon.”
“No,” she whined. “I want you to stay.”
He chuckled. “I wish I could, but I have to call Butch.”
Sonya stiffened and turned her head to look at him.
“Butch the Butcher? That Butch?” she asked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Yeah…” Lloyd said, kissing the tip of Sonya’s nose. “I know you don’t like him, but he would do a good job.”
She rolled over on her back, moving away from him slightly so she could look at him.
“You can say that knowing how he loses his shit and butchers people?”
Lloyd laughed. “We’re going to butcher people, so who would suit our purpose better?”
“I don’t know…” she said with a huff. “There’s just something about him I don’t like.”
“Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do you think Jennings will approve him?”
He shrugged. “He’s big, can move stuff, and won’t mind what we have planned—that’s what Jennings is looking for, so he should meet with the old bastard’s approval.”
“I still don’t like it,” Sonya sighed, closing her eyes. “He’s too damn violent.”
Lloyd laughed. “For you to say that means something—you must really see him as an insane asshole.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” she sighed, opening her eyes again.
“I love you,” he said, and kissed her. He looked her in the eyes as he pulled back. “I want you to call off sick from work tomorrow.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I want you to pretend to be sick for a week, so we can get this thing done without you fucking that little morgue weasel again.”
She smiled and sweetly asked, “What if he comes to the house again?”
“Tell him you have something highly contagious,” he said, before throwing back the covers and getting out of bed.
“What do I have? Lloyd-itis?” she asked, and laughed. “Should I tell him it will lead to his death if he comes near me?”
He laughed. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”
“You know I might have to go in anyway, right?”
He frowned. “Why? If you’re sick, you can’t go in.”
She shook her head and yawned. “If I don’t have a doctor’s excuse and I miss too many days, I can get fired.”
He walked around the bed and started putting on his clothes.
“Have Jennings write one for you.”
She laughed and rolled onto her side to watch him. “Yeah, right! He’d want to know why I can’t go to work and then lecture me on keeping up a good front. No thanks, I’d rather not go there.”
“How many days can you miss before you’ll get in trouble?”
She thought about it for a second, counting on her fingers.
“I can miss two, maybe three days without a doctor’s slip, but I still might get in trouble.”
He sighed, zipping up his pants.
“Take as many as you can,” he said, kneeling on the bed and kissing her. “I don’t want you there anymore than you have to be. I definitely don’t want you fucking Miles again.”
She kissed him back and nodded. “I won’t if I don’t have to—it’s not like I enjoy it. I hate it when he touches me!”
“Good,” Lloyd said, standing and slipping on his shirt. “Try to stay away as much as possible so we can get this over and done with.”
“I’ll stay home for a few days,” she said. “I still wish you could stay with me tonight,” she complained and snuggled her face into her pillow, pulling the covers up over her shoulder.
“Soon, babe, we can spend as many nights together as you want,” he said, kissing her lips gently.
“Bye,” she sighed.
“Bye,” he said, smiling down at her, thinking how beautiful she was. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow and see you at the meeting—good luck finding out about the FBI.”
She closed her eyes, nodded, and yawned.
“Tomorrow,” she mumbled. “Love you.”
Lloyd turned and walked out of the bedroom as Sonya fell asleep, leaving the door open behind him. He paused in the dining room to glare at the flowers on the table and thought about ripping every single petal out of each flower and sprinkling them in the blood from Miles’ corpse after he’d killed him.
With that thought putting a grin on his face, he left the house to head home…and to call Butch the Butcher.
***
Lloyd pulled into the driveway of a boarded up house in an abandoned neighborhood. He climbed out of his car—leaving it running—and opened the rolling garage door that squeaked in protest. He pulled in, cut the engine, and shut the garage door.
Using previously placed crates, he climbed through the broken window in the back wall of the garage and walked through the well-worn path in the knee high weeds to the back door of the old house. With his keys, he unlocked the padlock he’d used to secure the entrance. Once he had it open, he stepped into the darkness, using the same padlock to secure the door from within.
He heard a scratching noise behind him and froze. Holding his breath, he listened for a moment and determined the sound was a rat.
With a sigh, he turned and walked confidently through the room and headed down a long hallway to his right. Very little light filtered in through the boarded up windows, but as his eyes adjusted to the faint lighting,
he could see exactly where he was going. Stopping briefly, he knelt and flipped a switch on a small generator sitting outside a doorway. It kicked on and shattered the silence with its diesel motor as it chugged to life. He stood and continued down the hall to the next doorway—the first one on the left—and entered it after flipping the switch on another generator sitting in the hall.
“Ah, nice,” he said as the bare light bulb in the ceiling came to life and illuminated the room.
The light from the bulb shone down on a twin-sized mattress that was bare except for a sleeping bag and pillow on a metal and wire frame. A desk stood across the room from the bed, and on it was all manners of technology, surrounding a laptop. In front of the laptop stood a simple metal folding chair.
With a sigh, he sat down at the desk. He wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in his bed…alone. Knowing that even if he tried, he wouldn’t get a good night’s rest, he decided to work instead.
He reached forward and pressed the button that would turn the laptop on. While the computer booted, he looked through his cell phone to find Butch’s phone number. He waited for his prior acquaintance to answer.
“Hello,” Lloyd said. “This is Lloyd, and I might have a job for you—interested?”
“Of course,” Butch said with a laugh. “I’m broke as fuck right now. I could really use a job.”
“You’d be the muscle on a team that’s going to do a large organ harvest, but you’ll have to be interviewed…”
“What the fuck?” Butch snapped. “Interviewed? Horseshit!”
“Don’t get too bent about it,” Lloyd said. “It’s a short job with a big payoff, so it’s worth the small amount of bullshit.”
“Fine,” Butch huffed. “I’ll be there tomorrow around noon.”
After ending the call, Lloyd checked his email using his cell phone as a hot spot, and waited for the first generator he’d turned on to do its job and heat water so he could take a shower. When he found out there was nothing interesting in his inbox, he decided to call Jennings and let him know Butch would be in town soon for his job interview.
***
Jennings was sitting on his couch reading a book when his cell phone rang. He jumped and scrambled to answer it.
“Hello?”
“My man, Butch, will be here tomorrow afternoon for his interview,” Lloyd said. “Right before the meeting.”
“That sounds fine,” Jennings said briefly, wanting to get back to his book.
“By the way…I told Sonya to call off sick for a couple days,” Lloyd informed him.
“You told her to do what?” he snapped. “She can’t miss and get in trouble at work. They would take more notice of her and it could compromise her cover.”
“Pfft! Cover? I don’t think it much matters if she gets in trouble at work. What are they going to do? Fire her? That might actually be good, in a way.” Lloyd laughed. “Besides, she’s running ragged with this side job of friending the woman now, and I don’t want her around the morgue geek any more than she has to be.”
“I don’t care what kind of excuse you have for this—I’m not happy about it.”
“I really don’t give a shit if you’re happy or not. Everything is not all about you and what you want. You have to consider the other people on the team you’re overworking.”
He dropped his book to the floor. “You need to realize, Lloyd, this is my team and I say what goes. If you don’t watch your mouth and attitude, you’ll be out. Do you hear me? Out!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry I’m not being respectful,” Lloyd said sarcastically, and laughed. “I hope I didn’t disturb your wife by calling so late…”
Jennings took a deep breath and tried to calm down, reminding himself that after the family harvest was completed he wouldn’t have to talk to, work with, or see Lloyd ever again.
“No, it’s okay. You didn’t disturb her. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jennings ended the call and sighed.
“I’ve had enough of him,” he growled, and picked up his book.
He settled back into the couch and picked up where he’d left off, shutting out the rest of the world.
***
Lloyd laughed as he hung up the phone.
“I’m sure I didn’t disturb the dead bitch,” he sneered, and proceeded to do a search on Miles the morgue geek, finding out where the man grew up, went to school, where he lived—everything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Agent David McCoy landed at the Pittsburgh International Airport early the next morning. He took a taxi from the airport to his hotel and checked in with minimal fuss, even though it was an odd hour.
With nothing better to do since he couldn’t start working for hours, he headed to his room. He was exhausted, but he didn’t want to go to sleep; he was scared he’d sleep most of the day and wouldn’t get any work accomplished. At the same time, he didn’t know that he could do much else. He already had an appointment scheduled to sit down with the wife of the man who’d gone missing. They were meeting at a local police station, with the detective that had been assigned the local case. He’d thought about being a dick and insisting on having the meeting at the Pittsburgh FBI Headquarters, but he didn’t want to burn bridges with the locals—they could be valuable.
After flipping through the channels on his room’s TV and finding nothing worth watching, he decided he would get some sleep since he couldn’t make it through the entire day the way he was feeling. He was getting to the point where his brain wasn’t working properly.
After setting the alarm on his phone, and the courtesy alarm clock in his room, he kicked off his shoes, stretched out on the bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.
***
Sonya mumbled a string of profanities into her pillow when her alarm went off, and barely opened her eyes to glare at the clock while she pressed the button to shut it up.
“I’m sick,” she mumbled, and then snuggled deeper into her covers. She was almost asleep when she remembered why she hadn’t turned off her alarm.
With a grunt she sat up and looked around for her cell phone. When she didn’t find it, she frowned and thought hard about where she might have left it.
“Ah, ha,” she said, and leaned over the side of her bed, grabbing the jeans she’d taken off when Lloyd had told her to strip. The phone was in one of the pockets. “Found ya!”
With a huge yawn, she pushed a couple of buttons and brought up the phone number for the hospital.
When it beeped after the little recording, she said in a croaky voice: “This is Sonya Garret, calling to let you know that I’m sick and won’t be in today.”
She ended the call with a yawn and laid back down to get some more rest.
***
Lloyd awoke to a loud pounding noise. He sat up straight, rubbed his eyes, and tried to figure out where it was coming from. Finally, he realized the pounding was coming from a different room. His brain fog cleared quickly at the realization of someone possibly trying to break into his abode.
He stood swiftly and picked up a 9mm pistol from the corner of his desk before he ventured out into the hallway to investigate the noise. It was coming from the living room.
He headed down the hall cautiously, holding the pistol with both hands, pointing it toward the ceiling. When he arrived in the decaying living room he realized someone was knocking on the front door. He stood silently for a few moments, wondering what he should do. Logic told him to stay quiet and hope whoever was out there would leave. The house, and the neighborhood, had been abandoned years ago. From the faded sign that hung drunkenly, but still graced the entrance to the housing development, the acreage and buildings had been for sale for a long time.
“Open the fucking door,” a harsh, familiar voice barked.
Lloyd let his grip on the pistol grow lax, allowing it to fall from its ready position to be held by one hand at his side.
“Butch,” he muttered, and shook his head.
Walking forward swiftly, he retrieved the
key hanging from a small metal hook beside the door and unlocked the padlock on the door.
“’Bout fucking time, man,” the huge red-headed bulk of a man said as Lloyd opened the door.
“Get in here, you big bastard,” Lloyd scolded, stepping back to allow his guest entrance.
“Why?” Butch asked, holding his hands palm up, motioning around him. “There’s no one here to see me anyway.”
Lloyd laughed. “No, there shouldn’t be, but I try to be cautious.”
Butch stepped inside.
Lloyd quickly closed and re-secured the door.
“I see nothing has changed,” Butch said, looking around. “You always did pick fancy digs.”
“Whatever,” Lloyd said, rolling his eyes. “How did you find the house I was in?” He remembered telling Butch the development’s name, but not the number of the house.
“210,” Butch said, and laughed. “You always pick the place with the number 210.”
“Oh,” Lloyd said, tucking the gun he was still holding into the back waistband of his boxers. “I didn’t know you’d been paying that close attention to my habits.”
“I pay attention to a lot of things people think I don’t,” Butch said. “I don’t suppose you have a place I could take a hot shower, do you? Perhaps at that hot little number’s house?”
“Who?” Lloyd asked, pretending not to know what Butch was talking about.
Butch shrugged. “No one in particular…you just always seemed to have a hot, sexy broad tucked away wherever you were working. I thought maybe she’d have a nicer place, with hot water.”
“I have hot water,” Lloyd said, walking past Butch, deeper into the house. He turned down the hallway. “Come on, bathroom’s this way.”
“Wow!” Butch teased, following. “This really is high scale for you—hot water and all.”
Lloyd shrugged. “I got lucky this time. They left the water on even though they’ve cut electric to the place.”
Nurse Blood (The Organ Harvester Series Book 1) Page 16
