“By suicide,” Tully reminded him. “We didn’t kill her. She killed herself. I understand your grief, but you can’t blame us.”
Michael stared at Tully, shocked the crybaby had the nerve, considering his impending surgery, to argue. Either Tully had a bigger set of balls than Michael had first thought, or the man was plain stupid. He shook his head, then said, “You can’t imagine my grief or my hatred for you and your buddies. As I see it, you might as well have placed the razorblades in my daughter’s hands the night she slit her wrists.” He cocked his head and looked to Tully’s stomach, red and blotchy from the punches. “So, now I’m going to give you a little taste of her pain.”
Tears streamed down Tully’s cheeks. “You’re going to…slit my wrists?”
“For a doctor worth millions, you’re not all that bright.” Michael tapped the Shop-Vac. “That would be too easy. Use your imagination, Doctor. I did. And I’ve come up with the perfect way to help you understand the pain you’d caused my daughter. So, what do you say? Ready to get this show on the road?”
Michael pulled on the surgical mask, then hit RECORD on the video camera. He reached for the duct tape to seal the man’s mouth shut, then tore off a strip.
“Wait,” Tully shouted. “Shouldn’t I get a chance to say something?”
“You mean your final words?”
Tully nodded.
He looked over his shoulder at the camera, then back at the man. “You don’t deserve it.” He slapped the tape over the doctor’s mouth. “This is the only thing you deserve.”
Michael raised the scalpel, then stabbed it into Tully’s gut.
*
Pudge had finished prepping for the ten o‘clock news segment when the station manager, Rodger Jeffries, ran into the studio waving his arms and motioning to cameraman, David Ito. Curious, Pudge followed David.
ass nice ass
Pudge glanced at David’s ass and agreed. But now wasn’t the time to think about sex. Something had happened. Some big news story had broken, and Pudge wanted to be part of it. This could be their chance to make a name for themselves. Timing and luck. That’s all they needed.
luck luck good luck dr dread good luck
Pudge’s skin prickled with excitement. Could the commotion be due to the discovery of yet another Dr. Dread victim? Maybe. Maybe not. Pudge needed to know. If Gretchen had been found, and they’d been given the opportunity to work the story...the irony of the possible scenario made Pudge want to laugh. To report Nurse Gretchen’s murder on the nightly news, stand in front of the camera acting sad and sickened by the tragedy, while knowing every gory detail…personally. Fucking hilarious.
“What’s up?” David drawled as the news anchor, Kyle Edwards, moved into their circle.
“Looks like we’ve got another Dr. Dread murder,” Rodger said to Ito. “The CPD’s blackballed our station, but we still need to report the story. Calling Eden in is not an option.”
“She’s the reason for our police problem,” Kyle said with a smugness Pudge loved.
Kyle hated Eden as much as they did, if not more. For over a decade, the anchor had been stuck behind a faux desk, reporting the news other people had written for him. Unlike Eden, he’d never been approached by Network, never had his picture on the cover of local and national magazines, never won an award for his reporting skills. While Pudge considered him a pathetic whiner who would rather complain about the wrongs in his life, than take the initiative and make a bigger name for himself, he served a purpose. With Kyle’s help, they would go places.
Rodger ignored Kyle, then turned to David. “Ryan Anders is too far away to make it downtown in time to air this story on the ten o’clock news. Channel 3 broke the story, so we’re already late.”
us us send us
“I’ll go,” Pudge blurted.
Rodger looked at Pudge, then shook his head. “You’re not experienced enough, kid.”
“But I reported—”
“No. You’re not ready,” he said, then turned to Ito. “I called Les Sinclair. He’s willing to come out of retirement and do it. Pick him up on your way to the crime scene.” Rodger handed David a sheet of paper. “Here’s both addresses. And make it quick. I want to lead with this story tonight.”
“I’m on it,” David said, and as he left the room, he gave Pudge’s shoulder a quick squeeze. David had known about Pudge’s aspirations, and while Pudge appreciated his concern, he could go fuck himself. They didn’t need his sympathy. Sympathy was for pussies. Pudge was a doer. Doers went places. They didn’t stand around with their thumbs up their asses waiting for an opportunity to land in their lap.
Losing this opportunity to Les Sinclair stirred Pudge’s anger beyond control, though. The old fart had long retired, and had been diagnosed with dementia two years ago.
Jeffries had made a mistake tonight.
pay make him pay kill him kill him
Killing sounded like an excellent idea, but Pudge had a better plan. When Rodger walked away, Pudge turned to Kyle. “Can’t you talk to Rodger for me? He respects your opinion. If you tell him you’ve been working with me, that I’ve improved, maybe he’ll let me—”
He shook his head. “Not here. Come to my office.”
wants he wants something
Pudge already suspected as much, but didn’t care. They’d give Kyle what he wanted—again—if it meant a chance to report this story or any story for that matter. Pudge had allowed Kyle to think of himself as a mentor. But he was merely a means to an end.
When Kyle closed the office door, he walked to his desk, then sat on the edge. “I know you’ve been working hard, and I know you’re disappointed, but this story in particular is sensitive to Rodger. After what that bitch, Eden, had done to me on air, Rodger had taken a lot of shit from the station owners, the Chicago police, and from our viewers. Honestly, Les was the right choice. Chicagoans love Les, he’s respected and a familiar face. I’m sorry, honey, but I think Rodger made the right call.”
Furious, Pudge turned away.
hurt hurt him he used us used us hurt him kill him
Although right, Pudge ignored the voice. Hurting or killing Kyle would only hinder their opportunity for advancement. He might be using them, but he didn’t realize they were using him, too.
“I understand,” Pudge responded. “I just wish Rodger would recognize my talent.”
“He will,” Kyle said. “Actually, I heard that Rodger needs someone to report the upcoming dog show. I know it’s not the hardcore story you’re looking for, but it’s a start. Would you like for me to recommend you?”
A fucking dog show?
no no way tell him no
While reporting about a dog show wasn’t exactly the same as the Dr. Dread story, it was a start. Pudge needed more on-air experience if they were going to earn Rodger’s respect.
lying lying hes lying he wont help using us using us wont help
Pudge suspected the same, but nodded anyway. Until Rodger noticed their talent, they needed Kyle’s influence and guidance.
“Good. I’ll talk to Rodger about it tomorrow.” Kyle glanced at his watch, then rubbed his palm over his crotch. “We’ve got about ten minutes before we need to be back in the studio. Why don’t you come here, and let me make things better.”
Pudge knew what he meant by better, even before he began to unzip his trousers and pull out his dick. But Pudge wasn’t in the mood to give him a blow job. Not when the Dr. Dread story had been dangled in front of them, then torn away. Still, Pudge needed to maintain the ruse with Kyle in order to use him for their success. Besides, they’d enjoyed their time with him a few nights ago. Right?
The voice didn’t respond, and Pudge hesitated. Maybe hooking up with Kyle had been a mistake. Did they really need him? Look at how far they’d come on their own.
Kyle held his dick by the base, then nodded to his crotch. “C’mon, baby, I know you want it. And if you swallow every last drop, I’ll make sure I talk to Rodger about
you tonight, right after the show ends.”
The lure of on-air time forced Pudge to move toward the desk. Pudge stared at Kyle’s dick then knelt in front of him.
“That’s it,” Kyle coaxed. “And next time, when we’re not on a time crunch, I’ll make sure I fuck you properly.”
While Pudge would like to be fucked properly, Kyle wasn’t the man for the job. Eden’s boy toy came to mind, and with his image on the brain, Pudge demeaned them, and sucked Kyle’s dick. With each suck and lick, Pudge formulated a plan. Once they no longer needed Kyle, he would pay a high price for using them. Leaking a video of him screwing one of his co-workers just might be the right start.
Chapter 15
EDEN SNUGGLED HER bottom against Hudson’s groin, his erection pressing against her. She hadn’t even crawled out of bed yet, and the day already seemed brighter.
He palmed her breast, gave her nipple a seductive tug, then slid his hand along her belly until he slipped his finger between her thighs. Yes, she thought as she sucked in a breath and spread her legs. Today would definitely be a good day. Waking up to Hudson’s hard, hot body, and then morning sex...? Other than a strong cup of coffee and a gooey cinnamon roll slathered in butter, she couldn’t imagine a better way to start the day.
After years of sleeping alone, after years of being alone, she loved this moment. Last night had been an awakening for her. The whole day had been, really. She’d realized she had health issues in need of attention. She had family issues that she also needed to tackle. Most of all, she’d realized all of the issues she’d thought she’d had with Hudson were of her own making. He’d been there for her in the past, willing and ready to explore a future. But she’d sabotaged their relationship out of fear. She’d been afraid of having her heart broken, afraid of becoming too close to him only to have him reject her once he came to know the “real” Eden.
After last night, those fears seemed ridiculous. Hudson had showed her he cared deeply for her, with his words and his touch.
With the way he touched her now, she focused on him, on their pleasure, and reached beneath the sheets for his thick arousal. Her body hummed with need and anticipation as she guided him inside of her.
His warm breath puffed against her neck, as he slowly, sensually rocked his hips. She pressed against him, eager to feel every hot inch of him. He grabbed her hip, then positioned her until she was on her hands and knees. Pressing on the small of her back with one hand, and cupping her ass cheek with the other, he quickened his pace.
Loving the way he filled her, she fisted the pillow and raised her bottom higher.
“You’re so damn sexy,” he murmured, and caressed her bottom.
She dropped her head into the pillow and groaned as a delicious ripple radiated through her body. When he reached beneath her and rubbed her clit, she raised her head and looked over her shoulder.
Their gazes collided. The heat and intensity in his eyes, the way he stroked her sex with his fingers and his thick arousal, caused the delicious ripple to strengthen into a flood of ecstasy. The orgasm ripped through her core. She bucked against him and rode each wave after wave of pure rapture until he came with a low groan.
They collapsed in a heap on the center of the bed. He cradled her in his arms, then kissed her forehead.
“Good morning,” he said with a sexy grin.
“It’s a very good morning,” she responded, and stretched. “Hungry?”
He nipped her earlobe. “For more of you.”
“Cheese ball,” she teased.
“What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
She glanced at the window, and even with the blinds drawn, noticed it was still dark. “What time is it?”
“Don’t make me move. I’m too comfortable,” he said, and cuddled her closer.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said as she began to disentangle their bodies. “You can rest, while I fix us breakfast. I noticed you’d stocked my fridge. How does an omelet sound?”
“Awesome. And for the record, Lloyd did the stocking.”
“I’ll have to thank him.”
“I did make the grocery list though, so it’s me who deserves a proper thanking. I happen to have a couple of ideas of how you can do that, by the way.”
“I bet you do,” she said as she pulled the sweatshirt she’d worn last night over her head. As she was about to move toward the bathroom, her cell phone rang. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, then frowned. “It’s six fifteen. This can’t be good.”
He propped himself on his elbow. “Who is it?”
She checked the caller ID and not recognizing the number, shook her head. “Don’t know,” she said, then answered the phone.
“Good morning, Eden. I hope I didn’t wake you and your friend.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, still unsure of the caller’s identity. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”
“My name isn’t important. My message is, though.”
Her skin prickled with unease as she looked to Hudson, who had already climbed off the bed and was pulling on his jeans. She mouthed, “It’s the killer,” then pointed to the dresser and motioned with her hands for a pen and paper.
“That was very smart of you to install the extra security camera. I’ve been worried about the person who’s been watching you.”
“Thank you for your concern,” she said, and nodded to Hudson as he handed her the pen and paper. “Should I be concerned about you, too?”
Hudson sat next to her, and put his ear close to the phone. She angled the cell, and hoped he could hear the killer’s end of the conversation. Considering she didn’t have a way to record the exchange, she needed an extra set of ears.
“Me? No. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I’d hoped you realized that by now. Especially after the flowers and note I left at the hospital. Are you feeling better?”
“I am. Thank you. Do you work at the hospital?”
“I was worried about you,” he said. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
“I appreciate your concern, and I also noticed you avoided my question.”
“Did I? Sorry, no. I don’t need to work at the hospital. As you know, I have my own, private OR.”
Despite the heavy sweatshirt, goose bumps skated along her arms as images of the killer’s victims moved through her mind. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“The DVDs are rather…gruesome. I apologize for that, but I do have my reasons.”
“Your message.”
“Exactly. I knew you’d understand.”
“Honestly, I don’t.” Knowing this might be her only opportunity to speak with the killer, she pressed him. “Why the torture? Why not just kill them?”
“Killing them would be too easy,” he responded, his voice remarkably amiable for a man discussing murder. “Do you know what it’s like to hate so much that it festers inside of you until you’re infected with uncontrollable rage? To eat, sleep, and wake to nothing but thoughts of vengeance rivaling the wrath of God? While I’m obviously no god, I am judge, jury and executioner in my OR. And when I’ve finished with my plans, you will understand why.”
While most people would consider this man insane, Eden didn’t. She honestly believed, based on his words and his actions on the DVDs, that Hudson had been right all along. This wasn’t about sending a message to the masses, but about plain old revenge.
“I wish you would explain your reasons to me now. Maybe if we talk, another…surgery won’t be necessary. I’m sure you know I haven’t gone to the police. Leave your last two…ah…patients alone and—”
“You’re truly a good person, Eden. I’ve loved two women in my life. Both are dead. You remind me so much of one of them, your looks, the way you push yourself to be the best, only you’re stronger. If only she had been, then none of this would have had to happen. I do appreciate your not going to the police, but chatting about my reasons won’t save my patient.”
“Patients,” she reminded him.
“Hmm? Oh yes, back to the reason I called you. I know I told you that I’d planned to take a few days off, but something came up and it required me to change my schedule. I had to perform a surgery last night, and I have another DVD for you. Because of your new security cameras, and your male guest, I couldn’t leave the DVD at your townhouse.”
She gripped Hudson’s hand. “How do you know a man is staying with me?”
“I drove past your townhouse yesterday and saw the two of you entering. When I drove past this morning, I noticed his ride still parked along the curb. Tell him I’m a fan of Smokey and the Bandit, please.”
“I will.”
“Thank you. Now, about that DVD.” After he gave her the location of the DVD, he said, “I really do like you, and wish that we could have met under different circumstances.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Hopefully I have an answer,” he said with a chuckle.
“How does my beauty pageant series fit with what you’re doing in your OR?”
He sighed, then said, “You’re an excellent reporter, Eden. I’m sure if you think long and hard about your series and my patients, you’ll begin to connect the dots. If you don’t, no worries. My final DVD will give you all of the answers.”
“I honestly don’t know if I can bear to watch another one of your surgeries.”
“The last DVD won’t be another surgery, Eden. It will be an explanation. I have to go now. It was nice talking to you. Take care of yourself, and watch your back. If I find out who’s been sneaking around your townhouse, I will call you again.”
“Wait. Can I reach you at this number?”
The call ended. Eden quickly redialed the number, but the call rolled right into a computerized voice messaging system.
Killer Romances Page 111
