Heart Broken

by Sarah Alabaster

  Just shy of completely blacking out, my assailant suddenly released me. With blurred vision, I coughed hard as I tried to roll over.

  He got up, laughing as he watched me attempt to crawl away from him.

  I tried to get up to run to my bedroom as he walked behind me slowly and menacingly.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  His feet tapped across the floor, making my heart race faster in my chest.

  When I finally reached the hallway leading to the bedroom, he was once again on me. This time he grabbed my hair to pull me back. Struggling against his hold, my hair caught in his clutches, I tried desperately to break free. I was so weak by now, though, that I knew my feeble attempts barely registered with him. Unable to fight against his hold, I fell backward, landing hard on the floor.

  “Why are you… doing this?”

  With the exhaustion closing in on me, I was almost unable to get the words out as the pain pierced through my body.

  He took no mercy on me, though, just toyed with me as he let me catch my breath. This was a game to him, like some kind of cat and mouse.

  Making eye contact when he came into view, I realized that I knew that face. I’d kissed that face. I’d felt those lips on me when we’d made love.

  “Paul?”

  The tips of his mouth twisted up, making my stomach churn, almost to the point of losing the contents in it, but what help would that do? It would only make things worse for me. So I swallowed down my revulsion as anger surged through my veins. The instant shot of adrenaline gave me the strength to move, but he was so close that I wouldn’t be able to get too far.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Paul?”

  He responded first with laughter, then simply snarled at me.

  “My name isn’t Paul.”

  I gasped in surprise. I had slept with a killer. Dated a killer.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? How hadn’t I known?

  “Because I didn’t want you to know, stupid bitch.”

  Then he kneeled down on the floor next to me, reading the expressions that crossed my face.

  “I’m not new at this, bitch. I know how to hide myself pretty well around people.”

  “What about Brian? Did he know who you were?”

  “Brian? You want to talk about Brian right now?” Chuckling, he continued. “Okay, fine. Let’s talk about Brian, and Bethany, too, while we’re at it. Why not?” He pulled a knife from his back, revealing it to me as it shone in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “She’s next, you know? I’ve got her lined in my sights, and I plan on making it worse for her than what I’m about to do to you.”

  Sobbing, I realized he’d enjoy my pleading way too much. Hell, he was probably getting off on my sobbing right now, too, so I tried to tamp down my body’s response to the situation.

  “Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

  “That’s more like it.”

  His erection was evident as he adjusted his pants to be more comfortable.

  “Oh.”

  “I love the chase, but when the time finally comes, I love the screams even more.”

  Fuck, I thought. He’s going to really kill me.

  “How did you get past Brian? I thought you guys were friends?”

  “Easy. We met at the pub, and I only saw him there whenever I was in town.”

  “But your apartment…”

  “Is rented, you stupid bitch. Everything is always so easy.”

  Twisting his hand so the knife shone a light on my skin, he sucked in a breath, awed by the beauty of it.

  Sick bastard.

  “I’m a patient person,” he said as he made the first cut across my skin.

  Suddenly fiery daggers poked across my skin, and the burn began to spread. The pain took my breath away. Gasping, I let out a cry as he watched me, waiting for a reaction.

  Pulling me into his arms, he positioned himself so I was slightly across his body. Now he didn’t have to worry about getting any blood on himself.

  He was definitely not new at this.

  “God, you’re even better than I imagined.”

  His hot breath on my neck made my stomach churn, but he didn’t free me to allow me to give into the temptation to vomit. Instead, he just held me against his hard body as he took pleasure in my pain. His erection was still poking into my side.

  Was he going to…

  “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

  “Paul?”

  Quizzically, I looked up at his face. I realized instantly that he wouldn’t be denied this encounter. Nothing I said would stop him; he was too focused on his goal. Hearing me say his name, he just tsked at me.

  “It’s the name I gave you, but it’s not my real name, stupid bitch.”

  Struggling to break free, only to feel my skin burn as he slashed across me again, I saw something shiny in the air next to me. I instantly stopped moving when I realized what I was seeing.

  The knife.

  “Why?” I cried as more blood seeped onto the floor.

  “Shhh.”

  He sliced into me again, the knife easing its way into my chest, causing me to cough violently. I was spitting blood droplets all around the walls.

  “Shhh, relax. Let me enjoy this.”

  His hands were trembling, and I knew the sick bastard was enjoying every moment, prolonging the attack for as long as possible.

  “Please. Stop,” I pleaded as my breathing became more labored. My voice was a sheer pant as I tried to appeal to his compassion. I had to do something, anything, to get him to stop. The darkness was becoming too inviting. All I wanted was to drift off and not feel anything.

  But watching me drifting in and out of unconsciousness, he decided that that just wouldn’t do.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Now, now, our time isn’t up so soon. We have plenty more to do, and all night to do all the things I’ve wanted to do for so long.”

  He placed me on the floor as he reached for a towel to wipe the knife clean. Then he moved across the room to the kitchen.

  My tears mixed with my blood as it ran down my shirt. I could see him watching me as he came back into the room, knife nowhere in sight, but I knew he still had it on him.

  Tearing off my shirt in one long pull, the man I knew as Paul took in my body. Unable to hide myself from him, I just closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

  “Open your eyes. I want to watch you.”

  He was obviously getting off on my agony.

  “Why? Why would I open my eyes?”

  “If you don’t open your eyes, I’ll make it worse for you.”

  Worse? How could it possibly get worse?

  Then he cut my bra open without touching my skin. Positioning the blade above me, I inhaled sharply but couldn’t move as he pinned me to the floor with his knees on my arms. I felt only the pressure of the blade as he pushed it in, and nothing else. After several minutes of pressure, relief, pressure, relief, I felt the pain hit me and cried out from it.

  He just looked at his handiwork, relishing the damage he had made to my body so far.

  “Shhh. Don’t struggle, you’ll only make this go faster, and I want to savor every minute.”

  Pressing the towel against my wound, he sealed off the puncture, allowing me to gain the breath I had desperately tried to pull into my lungs.

  “Good girl.”

  He lifted himself from my body, which felt heavy as I tried to breathe and stay awake long enough to do something. A little while later, the darkness claimed me and I slipped off to sleep, somewhere where the pain couldn’t reach me anymore. The nightmare would continue, but now I wouldn’t be able to feel it.

  But he couldn’t have that. No, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

  As I began to drift off, he slapped me so hard that I thought he might have broken my jaw.

  Regaining consciousness once again, I was terrified to see he was still above me.

  “Please, Paul.”

&
nbsp; But he wouldn’t be swayed as his eyes clouded over with delight at my begging.

  Summoning up all the strength I had left in me, I began to scream.

  “Shhh, you’ll only tire yourself out. No one can hear you. You’re barely talking above normal. All that effort, for nothing.”

  He positioned the knife so he could see my eyes in the reflection, and I began to sob as he continuously brought all my worst fears to the surface. My body was shaking violently as he made his way toward my stomach, the tip of the knife trailing down my skin along the way.

  With him now straddling me and the knife in position, he slowly pushed it into my body, causing me to hold my breath as the blade lowered inch by agonizing inch.

  Once he’d reached a certain point, he stopped as I exhaled out a breath full of blood, choking out yet another

  “Why?”

  “I really do need to insist that you stop talking now.”

  His patience was shocking as he fluently worked his way down my body, stabbing me more than twenty times.

  To me, the peace that lay behind the darkness was inviting, and I desperately wanted to escape there, and be anywhere but here.

  Once the noise of the pain had faded away and my cries had ceased, he made one last slice with his blade before leaving the apartment without a sound.

  ***

  “Clara, did you forget about our girl time? I know things are just getting back to normal…”

  Bethany knocked on the door of her friend’s apartment, but no one was answering.

  “Clara? You in there?”

  Since she had an extra key, she gave up and just pushed open the door.

  “Clara, you here?”

  She surveyed the room quickly, taking in the knocked-over furniture and scattered papers.

  Stepping inside, the hairs on her arm stood as she slowly made her way into the room, searching for her friend. When she reached the hallway leading to the bedroom just off the kitchen, she noticed the walls were splattered from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

  Deciding she’d seen enough, Bethany pulled out her cell phone and called Roger.

  “Roger,” she whispered.

  “Bethany? What’s wrong?”

  Immediately on alert, he grabbed for his keys and ran out the door of his condo.

  “What is it? Bethany?”

  “Hurry, Clara’s…”

  “What?!” he screamed into the phone. “Clara’s what, Bethany?”

  “Roger, I’m in her apartment right now, and there’s blood on the wall.”

  “Oh, God! Is she…”

  Unable to say the words, let along process the thought, he sped down the road to Clara’s place, breaking every law to reach her. He had to find out for himself what the hell was wrong.

  “I’m downstairs, Bethany! Buzz me in!”

  Heart pounding in his chest, he anticipated the worst once he made his way inside.

  Bethany was standing by the door, with one foot inside the apartment.

  “Where is she?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? You saw blood, you said?”

  Confused at her response, he realized she was in shock, and barely able to unclench the hand she had wrapped around the phone.

  “Bethany, call 911! Get an ambulance here right away!” When she didn’t move he said it again. “Now, Bethany!”

  Breaking her out of the fog she was trapped in, Roger’s tone brought her back to the situation at hand.

  “Right, okay.”

  She dialed the numbers and told dispatch the reason for her call, then watched as Roger walked further into the apartment.

  “Clara?” He called out, but no one answered.

  “Clar? You here, honey? Talk to me please. Please, baby.”

  The tears were streaming down his face. Any minute now, she would jump out of the corner and laugh at the joke she’d played on him. Any second she’d run into his open arms, hugging him so tight he would barely be able to breathe.

  Any moment now…

  Seeing the hallway walls splattered in what appeared to be blood, he realized she wasn’t going to run into his arms. She might never run toward him again, and a strangled sob suddenly escaped his lips. Following the trail on the floor that lead to the bedroom, he dreaded the scene he knew he’d find on the other side of the door.

  ***

  Bethany had waited long enough for Roger to return. Deciding to find out what was going on for herself, she made her way inside. As she stepped around the droplets and pools of blood on the floor, her stomach turned thinking about what might have happened just a few feet away from her.

  Jesus, there was so much blood.

  Resigned to what she would encounter, she walked toward the noises she heard in the bedroom.

  “Roger?”

  But he didn’t answer her. The noises grew louder as she approached the room. Then a bloodcurdling scream escaped her as the carnage before her drew all her attention to the bed.

  “Holy shit!”

  Running to be near her friend, Bethany slipped on the blood next to the bed and fell only a few feet away from where Clara lay, unresponsive.

  “Clara!”

  Looking around the room, she could see blood-covered walls, as well as the soiled furniture, but it wasn’t until her eyes reached the bed that she really saw her.

  Clara lay motionless over the covers, with pillows thrown in every direction. There was a pool of blood covering her body and the floor next to her bed. Roger was kneeling next to her, and was trying to keep her alive by breathing into her mouth, performing CPR.

  “Someone get the paramedics over here now!” she yelled over her shoulder before taking Clara’s hand into hers. She prayed her friend would make it through all of this.

  Leaning in close to see if she could hear Clara breathe, she didn’t want to touch her for fear of causing even more damage. She could hear the distinct sounds of gurgling, though, and thanked God that Clara was still alive.

  “She’s still alive. Get the ambulance—fast!” Roger said.

  He was holding his hand over Clara’s chest as he kept trying to help her breathe.

  “Stay with me, baby. Stay with me.”

  Bethany sobbed as she watched Roger.

  “Help! Please, help!” she screamed over and over, hoping the paramedics would get to them faster.

  Clara’s eyes opened for a moment as she blinked at her friend, unable to speak but putting all the love for her into the exchange they shared. She also had fear in her eyes. Fear that she wouldn’t be able to tell Bethany that she was next. Fear that she wouldn’t survive to see if the dreams she’d had would become real. Fear for Roger and the pain this would cause him.

  Eventually the pain became too much and she closed her eyes again, succumbing to the darkness that awaited.

  “Don’t go, Clara. Please don’t go,” Bethany pleaded with her as the tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Roger took a moment to see if Clara could breathe on her own. With his hands pressing against several open wounds, the blood continued to spill around his fingers.

  “I love you, baby. Please stay with me. Please,” he begged as she gasped for air.

  The paramedics finally ran into the room, pulling Bethany away as they helped Roger secure the wounds by pressing gauze against them.

  She sobbed as she watched them pushed her friend out of the room. Detective Michaels was there in the hallway, with a hand on her shoulder, but when Bethany realized it was him, she angrily pulled her shoulder away from his touch.

  “Bethany, let them work on her.”

  Pushing against him, she raised a hand to slap him, but thought better of it.

  “She told you someone was after her! She told you. Why didn’t you stop this? Why couldn’t you stop this?”

  Then Brian ran down the hall.

  “Bethany!”

  He looked her over from head to toe, making sure
she was okay before he drew her into his arms.

  “Brian!”

  Collapsing into his open arms, they clung together as they watched the police enter and exit Clara’s apartment.

  “Is she…”

  His question hung in the air.

  “She’s alive,” Bethany whispered against his neck as she rocked with sobs.

  “Oh, thank God.”

  A sudden noise drew their attention toward the door as Roger came through it, covered in blood.

  “Fuck, man!” Brian exclaimed.

  Numb from the carnage, Roger just turned his attention to the woman on the gurney coming through the door after him.

  “Let us through!” the paramedics shouted as they pushed past them to take Clara downstairs. One paramedic straddled her as his hands pressed against her chest.

  Roger followed them, not caring if anyone would object. He had to be there with her. she was his only priority right now.

  “Roger, wait!”

  Detective Michaels tried to get his attention, but they were gone too fast for him to stop Roger in time.

  “Wait for what?” Brian asked. “You got what you wanted. You have the evidence you need now. What else should he, or any of us, wait for now, Detective Michaels?”

  Once they were outside the apartment, Bethany turned to Brian.

  “Should we contact Paul and let him know what happened?”

  Continue the series with Heart’s Desire.

  About the Author

  Normally not one to stand in the spotlight, Sarah grew up in the Midwest before the travel bug hit and she started wondering around the country. Long hikes, amazing views, and some of the most fun one could ever have with and without a companion. Sarah found her imagination wondering beyond the worlds she read about. Usually with an eBook in her hand on some device, Sarah delves between genres as her favorite style of writing is HEA romance. Now, as an author she writes what gets her attention. Contemporary romance, paranormal romance, erotica romance/erotica, and suspense she even finds her imagination best served when she explores the world of graphics as seen in picture books (children’s books).