“I hear it’s an acquired taste.”
She wipes her mouth on her arm. “It’s not that. I think you got skunk beer.”
I sniff my bottle. It smells okay, so I take a hearty swig just to prove my point but fuck me the minute it hits my taste buds the putrid liquid spews back out my mouth.
“Damn.” I shake my head and dig in my pockets for some gum. “You want a piece?”
“Sure.”
Taking the stick of gum from the wrapper, I press it between her parted lips wishing I was inching my dick between them instead. She has a sexy fuckin’ pout. Thick lips that I know would feel so damn good wrapped around me as I fucked her pretty mouth.
“You like pizza?”
“You offering?”
“I’m not gonna starve you. I like a little meat on the bones.”
“I don’t get you, Boogeyman. You confuse me.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I admit.
Chapter Seven
—Shelly—
Boogeyman. What kind of fucking name is that anyway? The crazy bastard left about thirty minutes ago. I’ve been cleaning his disgusting bathroom. I need to bathe in bleach and I need a good night’s sleep. Only how in the hell am I supposed to sleep with this fucking collar on my neck. Staring at my reflection in the mirror that hangs over the bathroom sink, I appear haggard. My butterscotch eyes are dull and weary. Even my dark brown hair has lost its shine. The man is seriously sucking my will to live but I’m no quitter. I’m a fighter. I will do whatever it takes to come out of this alive, even if it means killing him.
I hope it won’t come to that. My plan is to do as he says for now then seduce him. If I can get him to pass out afterward, I can get his keys and remove this fucking thing from my neck, so I can make my escape.
He’s dead wrong if he thinks I will stay here and be his pet.
How am I supposed to shower with this damn thing on my neck?
There has to be a way to get it off. I go into the kitchen and look for a knife.
I find a Swiss Army knife in a random junk drawer that everyone seems to have in their home.
Flipping it open, I trudge back to the bathroom and look to the mirror. Gripping the handle of the knife I pray that I don’t stab myself in the neck. Wouldn’t that be my luck. Probably hit my major artery while I am at it.
Digging my fingers under the collar I try to hold it away from my skin but there isn’t enough room. Fuck it. If this is how I die this is how I die. I replace my fingers with the blade and attempt to cut. Nothing fucking happens.
What the hell is thing made of?
Just as I am about to try again I hear the front door open and a gruff voice announces, “Honey, I’m home.” His tone is cheery but I know he is anything but happy. The man is much like I am...a pure smartass.
I roll my eyes and close up the knife, tucking it away on the top of the medicine cabinet for when I may need it.
I stomp into the kitchen being lured by the smell of the pizza he has brought.
Boogeyman shakes his head. “Told ya. Only comes off with my key.”
“I just wanted to take a shower.”
He lets out a grunt and flips the pizza box open. “It’s waterproof.”
“Maybe I want to wash my neck.” I look over at the pizza and it is covered in black olives. Gag me. “Gross.” I scrunch up my nose.
His eyes narrow on me. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing,” I mutter and take a slice of the pizza, flicking the olives off.
He shrugs and starts eating.
“Hope you like pop, princess.” He goes over the fridge and takes out a couple of bottles of root beer. I hate root beer. It’s like the man did his homework on everything I can’t stand and is trying to make me snap.
However, I feel dehydrated, so I accept it and try to ignore the taste.
I doze off at some point and a knock sounding at the door startles me, but he seems to be expecting the company.
“About fucking time,” he snarls as he throws the front door open.
Rubbing my eyes, I yawn and sit up from where I fell asleep on the couch. I still haven’t showered and my body aches all over from playing maid to this bastard holding me captive.
A guy who appears in his early twenties, wearing a denim vest that says Prospect over one of the pockets walks in. As soon as his eyes meet mine Boogeyman punches him in the face. “Don’t fuckin’ look at her, grunt.” Blood oozes from the guys nose. He doesn’t dare look at me again. “What took you so long, shitstain?”
“Sorry, man. Reaper and Cupid had me cleaning up puke all damn morning. One of the whores got wasted and couldn’t hold her liquor. Was pretty brutal. MaryAnn was trying to get her to go sleep it off, but she kept on taking more shots. Then Cupid and MaryAnn started fighting.”
“Clean yourself up. You’re dripping blood on the floor. Then you can start gutting that fat bastard’s shit out of the bedroom. I want this place done today. Only the best for my princess.” Boogeyman winks at me and my stomach sinks.
He is planning on keeping me a lot longer than I intend on staying.
“Did you get everything I asked for?”
The guy gives him a short, “uh huh,” as he tilts his head back and stuffs napkins in each nostril.
The two of them go down the hallway. I can hear Boogeyman barking orders at the poor guy, expecting him to do the work of at least three or four people on his own.
Before long they are packing out old furniture and more garbage.
Licking my teeth, they feel gross and I am desperate to brush them.
When Boogeyman passes back through with another load of junk in his arms, I stop him. “Do you think you could—I don’t know, get me a toothbrush and stuff?”
“Make a list and I’ll send the grunt out for it if you earn it.”
“If I earn it?”
“Didn’t fuckin’ stutter. I don’t like to repeat myself, so if tell you something you best fuckin’ listen the first time.” He stomps out the door and I am tempted to throw something at the back of his thick head.
I steal a glance out the door and see him dumping the items in the back of a box truck. I can’t help but watch as he raises the bottom hem of his t-shirt and wipes at his forehead with it, revealing his muscular but tattooed torso. A pair of skulls adorn his pecs; a female and a male. I know this because the woman has roses in her dark hair. Does she represent someone or is it something he got because he liked the design?
That is a question I file away for later.
I see him pull out his cell phone and walk further away from the trailer. Now is my chance.
I hurry down the hall in search of as Boogey called him, the grunt.
I find him in a back bedroom ripping stained carpet from the floor.
“Psst.”
He looks over his shoulder at me and immediately tenses. He turns away from me quickly and says, “Get away from me. I can’t help you.”
“Please, he’s going to kill me.”
“Trust me. If he wanted you dead you’d be dead. Now get out of here before he catches me talking to you and takes my tongue.”
“My family is rich. If you help me, my family will give you anything you want.”
The guy sighs and continues cutting the carpet and rolling it up. Feeling defeat wash over me and the small glimmer of hope, I felt it leave too, I lean against the doorframe, wondering how I am going to get away from here.
“What do we have here?” Boogeyman grits in my ear and I jump, letting out a yelp in the process.
“I was just asking if he needed help,” I lie.
“What is she really doing back here?”
“Asked me to help her,” the guy confesses immediately.
“Well looks like one of you is a liar. Question is who?” He lets out a tsk sound and I can only pray my punishment isn’t too severe.
Chapter Eight
—Boogeyman—
“In the living room, now,” I
order her.
Thought she was gonna get this sorry grunt to help her. Doesn’t she realize she isn’t going any-fuckin-where unless I give the order.
I don’t give her time to comply. I hook my arms under her armpits and lift her up off the ground, carrying her kicking to the front room.
“I just want to go home.” She sags against me, going limp in my arms as I sit on the couch and lay her across my lap. Ass up.
I am about to spank her ass as punishment but then the damn grunt comes down the hallway and I don’t like the funny look he’s giving me. “You got a problem?”
“Nope.” He keeps his head down as he takes the roll of carpet out the door.
“Didn’t fuckin’ think so.” I rub my hand along her ass cheeks, but with her pants in the way I can’t get a good feel. I go to jerk them down and she tries to shoot up, but I hold her in place.
She stops moving and stills completely when I pinch her hard on the side. I get her pants down easily enough, exposing her sweet ass that I’d love to slide my cock into and give it to her hard.
My big hand comes down hard on her bubbly bottom, marking her with my handprint. A small cry rips from her throat and my dick twitches beneath her.
“When you gonna learn not to disrespect me and do as your told.” My hand comes down on her other cheek. I stare at the red fingerprints like they are a fucking work of art on her skin.
Shelly wiggles, trying to break free of the hold I have on her. Keeping her in place I run my finger along the seam of her ass, getting a feel of the wetness between her thighs.
She fucking likes it rough. Princess is full of surprises.
“I hate you,” she chokes out as I rub over her reddened skin.
“I gave you some freedom, but I can easily take it away. Let this be a reminder.” With my free hand I grab a syringe from the pocket of my cut and inject her in the ass then pull her pants up.
There isn’t even time for her to react. The cocktail sends her ass straight to dreamland.
I ease out from under her sinful body and lay her on her side.
With the carpet out of the way I set to getting the bedroom set up.
I had the prospect go a town over and pick up a new bedroom suite and mattress.
I wasn’t about to lay my head where that nasty fucker had been sleeping. Probably pissed the damn bed. Made sure he got good sheets too—that Egyptian cotton.
I may be a hard man, but I like nice shit.
When I walk back into the living room to see where that little fucker who is supposed to be helping me went to, I find him in the kitchen drinking my beer and staring at my woman. He has this lovey expression on his face. Smiling at her with bright eyes. Big fucking mistake. I was thinking of letting him live but seems he is soft on Shelly. Can’t have him disrespecting me and mine. “Need you out back. Got a hole that needs dug.”
“Sure thing.” He sets the beer on the counter and I smile to myself knowing it’s the last drink the jackass will ever enjoy.
I follow him out the backdoor knowing Shelly won’t wake up anytime soon and when she does she is in for a surprise.
I direct him to the edge of the property where the woods begin.
“Gonna make a nice fire pit back here and put in a swimming pool eventually,” I tell him.
“You need the hole dug…now?”
“Yup.” I smile and stroke my beard. He should have kept his eyes off her.
I warned him.
“So she’s a real hot piece of ass, man. I would have kept her too.”
“What would you know about her ass? Told you not to fucking look at her.”
“I don’t mean anything by it. Just that she’s pretty. Ya know?” He waggles his brows and I want to smash his face in.
“No. I don’t know but I’ll be finding out soon when I fuck her brains out.”
He laughs and my fingers twitch for my gun. I’m ready to end this dumbass.
“Enough small talk. Get back to work.” I don’t want to know shit about him. Makes it easier when there is nothing personal standing between a man and a kill.
I know I am a heartless bastard. It’s got me this far and I intend on staying this way.
I leave him to it, so I don’t get tempted to off him before the hole is finished.
Inside Shelly is sleeping peacefully. Her lips twitch almost curving into a smile and I wonder what she’s dreaming about.
Probably her escaping me. That isn’t going to happen though. I’ll keep her until I get my fill then maybe I will sell her ass to Tiny Leone. I am sure he can find something to do with her.
I stroke her cheek and she smiles, exposing a dimple in her left cheek.
“Hmmph.” I snort when her smile fades and turns into a grimace.
I don’t want to cause her to wake so I go to the back bedroom to finish up.
Can’t have her sleeping on the couch for the duration of her stay.
Have plans for her.
“How deep you need this damn hole?” The worm looks up at me from his own grave, wiping the sweat beads from his brow.
Fucker has been digging for a few hours.
“That’s good.” I toss him a bottle of beer. It’s a waste of a cold one but whatever. I stare down at him as he enjoys the drink running down his throat.
Glancing up, he says, “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it,” I snarl and pull the piece tucked in the back of my pants then I aim and shoot him dead between the eyes.
Fuck. Should have gotten the shovel from him first. Now I gotta crawl down in his damn hole and get it so I can cover him up.
Chapter Nine
—Shelly—
I don’t know how long I was out for this time or what in the hell he gave me. My head feels woozy as I struggle to sit up.
I rub at my stiff neck. Stupid fucking collar. My bladder feels ready to burst. Slowly, I attempt to stand. Blinking my eyes, I shake my head back and forth. It appears to be dark outside. I make it to the kitchen and grab the countertop for support.
Whatever Boogeyman did to me, I feel sick to my stomach.
Where is he?
I tug at the collar on my neck, remembering the knife I hid in the bathroom.
I only need to make it to the hallway. Not much further. I lean against the wall as I take another step, fighting off the drowsy sensation attempting to suck me back under.
I push the bathroom door open, nearly falling into the room with it as it gives way. I blink and listen to the steady sound of the water spraying in the shower.
The curtain slides back, revealing a very dirty and naked Boogeyman. My gaze zooms in on him, unable to keep from checking him out.
How drugged am I because right now my first thought is how sexy he looks. Water cascading down his dirt caked tattooed body like a waterfall. Droplets of water glistening on his muscles like specks of glitter as the dirt washes away.
Then he has to ruin the view by opening his mouth. “I’ll wash your back if you wash mine.” He smirks, then winks at me and his eyes brighten as he grins all cocky.
“Never gonna happen.” I roll my eyes and turn my back to him, leaving the small room. I sag against the brown panel wall and slide down until my butt hits the floor. I don’t have the energy to make it back to the couch.
My stomach growls, demanding real food. Hunger pains burn in the pit of my belly and I feel ill.
Closing my eyes, I nod off until I awaken to Boogeyman squatting down in front of me. His paw of a hand rubs along my jawline. “You need a shower.” His fingers stroke down to my collar bone then back up as he reaches around the back of my neck and removes the collar but the phantom feeling of it remains on my skin as I touch my now bare throat.
“Come on.” He takes my soft hands into the rough grip of his, pulling me to my feet. He leads me into the bathroom and I am too exhausted to protest when he undresses me and shoves me under the spray of warm water.
The water drops prick my skin as chills sweep
along my skin.
“Can you handle the rest?” My captor’s voice is low as he stares into my eyes.
I nod and close my eyes, enjoying the sensation as the water pelts against my sensitive skin.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
I want to say that will never happen, but it would require too much energy. I don’t have any fight in me presently. I need to give my body time to recharge and refuel before I attempt any type of an escape.
I numbly reach for the body wash that doubles as a shampoo, knowing it will make my hair feel gross but not caring. I need a good cleansing. Only how do I cleanse my soul when there’s a part of me that finds this crazy man attractive in the physical sense.
I remember the knife over the medicine cabinet. I will get some food in me then it is game on. Rinsing off quickly, I then shut the water off, and grab the towel from the hook outside of the shower.
Wrapping the towel around my body I go to step out. I get one leg out and a fucking mouse runs across my foot. I scream and scramble to get back in the shower. My other foot, the one still inside the shower, goes sliding and I lose my balance. The last thing I see as I go down is Boogeyman running toward me before my head thwacks against the side of the tub.
Chapter Ten
—Boogeyman—
Time seems to move in slow motion when I hear the scream come from the bathroom. I stop what I am doing at the counter and run. I’m too late. I’ve never known true fear in my adult life until now when I hear the thwacking sound of her head hitting the side of bathtub as she goes down.
I’m frozen in place as blood trickles from her temple and onto the cheap linoleum floor. Her limbs are outstretched as if she is still trying to prevent the blow.
Snapping out of the shock, I make my way to her and check her pulse. Brushing her tangled wet hair from her face I kiss her lips, they are warm, and her breath tickles my face.
Relief spreads through my veins and I wipe the blood away from her brow. Caring if a bitch lives or dies isn’t something I am used to feeling. Any other time I would dispose of a person and move on.
Boogeyman's Dream Page 3
