Nikki's Secret

by William Malmborg

  12

  Something’s wrong, Bill realized as the time without Mark’s arrival stretched to five minutes. Never in the two years he had lived here had there ever been a total absence of parking spots on the roads around the house, the only exception being during the Memorial Day parade since the route was one road over. He’s not coming, which means –

  “Nice kitty.”

  The two words that the soft, almost sweet sounding voice carried pushed every thought from his mind and sent a chill slipping through his bowels.

  He turned and looked through the doorway cutout toward the couch by the window where Amy was sitting. Toby was in her lap, his smiley face collar gripped in her left hand, while a large kitchen knife was in her right. No words were needed to share her intentions should he not comply with whatever demands she made.

  “You might as well lock the door,” Amy said. “Mark isn’t coming.”

  Bill locked the door without a word and then turned back to her, his mind attempting to work around the growing panic to find a possible solution. Nothing came to him.

  “Now, do you still have the handcuffs I saw in that one set of kinky blog pictures, or did those belong to Nicole?”

  Bill considered lying, but feared the potential outcome, and said, “I have them.”

  “Where are they?”

  “The dresser.”

  “Go get them and put them on behind your back and leave the key on the dresser.”

  Bill did as instructed, the only alteration being that he grabbed the second key himself and tucked it between his fingers before closing the links around his own wrists. Relief at the potential for escape arrived, though it wasn’t enough to calm the panic. Nothing short of her releasing Toby would do that, and even then, he would still be on edge.

  “Sit down on the floor,” Amy said.

  Bill did.

  Toby was still in her lap, his stupidly friendly nature probably making him unaware that anything was even wrong. She wasn’t even holding his collar anymore, yet he stayed right where he was.

  13

  Amy was caught off guard at how easy subduing the writer had been, her mind having expected something a bit more chaotic and, quite possibly, violent.

  Now what?

  The question went unanswered as she stroked the underside of the cat’s chin, a steady stream of purrs reaching her ears.

  “Is it a boy or a girl?” Amy asked.

  “A boy,” he said.

  “And what’s his name?”

  “Toby.”

  She wondered if there would be anyone to take care of Toby once she finished with things here, or if taking him home with her would be her best option.

  No, you can’t do that, her mind snapped. No connections between you and them.

  She would have to leave him behind.

  “So, Kimberly gets off work at eight,” Amy said.

  “I believe so.”

  “That gives us three hours to get to know each other.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Tell me about you and her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, you two ruined the greatest thing that ever happened to me, and I would like to know why.”

  “You’re talking about your affair with Professor Moore?”

  “It wasn’t an affair,” she said.

  “Really?” he asked, body shifting a bit. “But wasn’t he married?”

  “Yes, but only because she kept refusing to sign the divorce papers.” Anger developed, both at him and at the crazy bitch Professor Moore had been married to.

  “You know, in this state that doesn’t really matter, if only one really wants a divorce there are ways to go about it, especially if the two have been living apart from each other.” He paused. “How long were they separated?”

  “Why?”

  “Because six months is all it takes to get a divorce based on abandonment.” He shifted again. “Was it longer than six months?”

  Amy didn’t reply.

  “Of course, I don’t doubt that you loved him. I think your actions these past few days have proved that. The question is did he really love you?”

  “Stop,” she snapped.

  “Stop what?” he asked.

  “Stop trying to do what you’re doing.”

  “What am I doing?”

  “Making it so I’m really tempted to cut his throat,” she said and moved the knife blade closer to Toby. “Or maybe I will just poke out an eye.”

  Bill didn’t reply, though the panic she saw in his face was enough of a response.

  “That’s better.” She set the knife down on the couch. “Tell me about Nicole.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Was she just used for the pictures or did she play a bigger role in all this?”

  “Just the pictures.”

  “And Kimberly?”

  “She had nothing to do with anything. It was all me.”

  Amy considered this for several seconds and then shook her head. “Nope. I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Well, it’s easy to prove. Just go take a look at her lease. It’s sitting right on her desk downstairs. She just moved in earlier this month, yet, as you know, Nikki was talking to Professor Moore since Christmas of last year.”

  “What about the address?” Amy asked.

  “What about it?”

  “If she had nothing to do with this why did the age statement stuff say it could be found at her address and not yours.”

  “Because, many places don’t recognize my address so I always just use the one downstairs.”

  “What?”

  “Go look at the Netflix case on my desk if you don’t believe me.”

  She looked at the red envelope sitting next to his laptop. Would he lie about something that was so easily verified, especially in a situation like this? An answer of NO arrived, which then made her wonder about Kimberly’s lease. If she truly had moved in earlier this month then everything she had done had been a mistake. Even worse, it was a mistake she would have to see through to the end if she wanted to stay out of jail.

  Or will I?

  Could I just kill him and be done with it?

  Amy stood up while thinking about this, and walked over to the dresser to grab the handcuff key, her mind noting at the last second that his desire to get her downstairs might simply be so he could go grab the key, which she had almost forgotten about.

  “The lease is on her desk?” Amy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re lying I’m going to come up here and cut Toby,” she warned.

  “It’s there,” he said.

  Knife in hand, she started toward the stairs, but then stopped and grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back at a wicked angle and pressed the blade close to his throat.

  “And when I get back you’re going to answer every question I ask, or else I’ll start cutting you.”

  He didn’t reply, but once again, the expression on his face was enough.

  She let go of his hair, and took a step toward the stairway door.

  Bill twisted, his hands grabbing her legs before she even realized he had gotten free. The next thing she knew she was falling toward the floor, body bracing itself for impact.

  14

  For a moment, Bill feared his bluff had been called, his mind having forgotten until the last second that a mirror was behind him, and, if positioned properly, would have allowed Amy to see him working to free himself from the handcuffs. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case, and once she released his hair and withdrew the blade he was able to act.

  And down she went, a high-pitched squeal echoing from her lips, followed by a low grunt as she crashed into the floor.

  Knife! his mind shouted. Get the –

  Amy twisted from the floor and slashed at him with the blade, his eyes actually catching his own reflection seconds before the tip caught his retreating shoulder.

  Pain!

  First
it was cold, almost as if a piece of ice had been forced into his pores, then it was hot as the blood opened up the two folds of skin.

  “Fucker!” Amy cried and lunged at him from the floor, all while he scrambled backward like a crab.

  The blade missed.

  He hit the couch at an angle.

  She grinned and thrust the blade at him.

  He shifted as best he could, but wasn’t quick enough and felt the point cut into the flesh of his stomach before continuing deep into the couch cushion.

  The sound he made was unlike any sound that ever left his lips before, though it was more due to terror and surprise than actual pain.

  Heart racing, he grabbed her wrist as she tried to pull the blade free and yanked it away from the couch.

  The knife went flying.

  He then slammed her hand down on the edge of the coffee table, which earned him a wonderful cry. Had his angle been better it would have been even more satisfying, because chances were he would have broken some bones. Instead, he just managed to bloody her knuckles a bit against the splintered edge.

  Fingers came at his eyes.

  He dodged them and then grabbed a boob with his free hand and squeezed, fingers really digging in while twisting.

  She screamed.

  He then threw all his body weight at her, forcing her back to the floor, one hand holding her wrist, the other one still squeezing the boob.

  Another scream echoed, only this time it was followed up with a knee to his groin.

  All thoughts and reasoning disappeared.

  A hollow sensation followed, along with a horrible nauseous sensation.

  During this, he was vaguely aware of her free hand fumbling around at something -- her purse? -- and then –

  Recognition hit and he twisted his face away from the nozzle and closed his eyes just as a burst of mosquito spray came at him.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t help but breathe in the spray, his lungs heaving from the exertion.

  Get the handcuffs and end this, his mind cried as he scrambled away from her, arm wiping at his face to clear away the spray before he opened his eyes, all while his nose tried to flush out the irritant.

  Another panicked burst shot his way, but the distance was too much for it to have any effect.

  He opened his eyes and looked for the handcuffs, his thinking being he would grab them and then tackle her.

  Rather than them, his eyes came upon the knife.

  Get it!

  Moving quickly, he went for it, his body slamming into the wall as he attempted to reach down and halt himself at the same time.

  Pain from the two knife wounds echoed, but wasn’t enough to sidetrack him from getting a grip on the handle.

  Weapon in hand, he twisted back toward the living room, his eyes taking in everything just in time to catch sight of the object coming in from his left side.

  A loud thunk! erupted within his head.

  Several yellow explosions against a black backdrop came next.

  A second thunk! and then nothing.

  15

  It worked! Amy’s mind cried. I can’t believe –

  The writer groaned and started to move around a bit, which meant the blow hadn’t completely knocked him unconscious.

  Knowing she needed to act quickly, she hurried over to her purse for the duct tape -- wasn’t going to risk the handcuffs again -- and quickly went to work taping his wrists together behind his back. She then taped his ankles and knees.

  During this he struggled a bit, but no real strength was behind it, so it did little to hamper her progress.

  Once finished, she took the knife over to the coffee table, along with her potato sock -- she still couldn’t believe it had worked so well -- and began gathering up everything that had been thrown about in the struggle.

  Blood stained the carpet by the couch.

  You stabbed him, she reminded herself and quickly went to his body to check the damage. It was nothing, the blade having just caught the edge of his right side as he moved. The same was true of the shoulder wound. Had the two been worse than they were she would have put some tape over them to keep the blood flow to a minimum, but given that each looked as if it were already starting to clot, and knowing she didn’t want to add anything to the body that could raise questions later on, she decided against it.

  With that, she returned to the couch, her body completely exhausted from the fight, and finally opened the Coke he had offered her earlier.

  Still cold, her mind noted as she guzzled down half of it, her taste buds enjoying the overly sweet liquid.

  The little battle, which had seemed like quite the ordeal, had only last a few minutes. She realized this while checking the time on her phone, and then confirming it with the clock on his DVD player.

  Everything was almost ruined during it, she warned herself. Be more careful from this point on.

  A groan filled the room.

  Toby then made an appearance, his small body having apparently fled under the bed during the fight.

  “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called as he walked over to sniff at the writer.

  Toby cocked his head toward her, and then, with a happy sounding meow, hurried over and jumped up into her lap.

  “Gah,” she winced as he rubbed his check against her battered boob.

  Twice, she silently said. He grabbed the same one twice.

  She wasn’t sure why this seemed so remarkable to her, yet it did. It also made her want to go over and hit him in the balls again. Once was probably enough though, especially given that she would want him to be able to perform later.

  Gotta make it look like a lot of sexual depravity has been happening.

  While thinking about this she reached into her purse with her free hand and pulled out the small Tupperware container that was holding Mark’s semen filled condoms, and set it on the table.

  “See that, Toby,” she said while petting the sweet cat. “I’ve got some for Kimberly and some for William. Going to make it look like the three were all playing with each other before Mark snapped and went a little knife crazy.”

  Toby didn’t reply, unless she counted his eyes rolling back and his jaw opening as she scratched him beneath the chin as one.

  He’s so adorable.

  She really wished she could take him with her later.

  Keep an eye on the animal shelter.

  If he ended up there and she rescued him no one would think twice about the fact that she had his cat. It would be perfect.

  “Poor guy would probably be really scared during all that,” she said to the purring creature. “But don’t worry. Momma would come and save you.”

  Toby stretched while she said this and then looked up at her with weary eyes before resting his head back on her knee.

  “So cute,” she whispered and then reached over for her Coke. Finger prints, her mind reminded her.

  Rather than taking a sip she reached into her purse and pulled out the small bag of gloves she had grabbed from the box she had purchased at Target. Wearing a pair while entering the apartment had been too risky given that William might have noticed, but now, with him secure, she could slip them on.

  Gotta wipe this place down too.

  First, she was going to relax a bit and calm down from the little scuffle that had taken place. After that, once she was rested, she would take care of things.

  And look at the lease.

  If it really is down there.

  Chances were William had just wanted her to walk by him given that he had freed himself and wanted to grab her. The lease and the Netflix package had both been used as bait, nothing more.

  And you fell for it big time.

  Lesson learned.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  Gloves in place she took another sip of Coke and then went back to petting Toby. He didn’t seem to mind the gloves, though he did take a moment to sniff them once he became aware of them a few minutes later.

  It was cute
.

  16

  Work was dreadfully slow that night. Making it worse was her exhaustion. Had all her tables been full and orders being placed left and right she wouldn’t have had time to be tired, her mind and body simply working on some sort of autopilot until everything was taken care off. Without that situation, however, she was able to recognize her weariness, which wasn’t good, because it added even more weight to the minute hand as it struggled to complete its circuits around the clock.

  And then of course she fucked up.

  One table and she mixed up the two flavored milk shake combinations on not just one of the shake orders, but three. The fourth was a simple chocolate shake, so that one was almost impossible to screw up. All the others had to be corrected, which upset the customers and her boss. It also tied up the shake machine, which earned some angry honks from the drive up window.

  By the time the mess was all straightened out Kimberly wanted nothing more than to just go home, take a shower, and crash on the couch in front of the TV until her eyes rolled back.

  Sadly, she still had a little over an hour and half to go.

  17

  At first, he was confused, and then he was scared. Having freed himself once, he doubted Amy would let her guard down a second time. Even if she did, he doubted he would be able to free himself from the duct tape, not without an edge of some kind that he could use to rip away at the thread-like adhesive.

  But at least it isn’t the handcuffs.

  The first time around he had had an advantage given that she didn’t know about the key. Without one, however, he would have been unable to get free. Of that, there was no question. With the tape he at least had a chance.

  But she won’t let you exploit that chance.

  Or maybe she will?

  Amy wasn’t a professional at this. She was just a girl who was pissed off because she found out the ‘love’ of her life was just a man that had urges he wanted to indulge, she herself having been one of them.

  Tell her this, he suggested to himself.

  No, the better part of his judgment replied.

  Life lessons like this were generally learned from having been through the experience itself. When it wasn’t learned from it then that meant either something wasn’t quite right with the person experiencing it, or they were going to need another couple of lessons before it sank in. Bill had the feeling Amy fell into the first category. Nothing he could say would make her realize how silly her fixation on the professor was, nor would she understand that her anger was misplaced. Professor Moore had obviously been a prick that used his position to seduce girls like her. It also seemed like he had been making up for lost time given the crazy bitch he had been married to for so long. Had he not created the Nikki blog and started talking to the professor, someone else would have come along. No matter what Amy would have been heartbroken at some point. The outcome was inevitable.