Repentance (The Darkness Series Book 4)

by Brightmore, Cassia

  “Sam,” she panted. “Fuck, you feel good.” Her breathy voice and the way she was taking all he was giving her had his release building as he increased the pace of his thrusts. Sliding his hand between their slick bodies, he found her clit and tugged, smiling when she moaned out his name again. He could feel her thighs clenching together and knew she was close to her release again.

  “Cum for me, baby. I want those juices coating my cock,” he told her. She began to push backwards, meeting him thrust for thrust and then left out a low scream as she exploded in ecstasy. Sam wasn’t too far behind, his fingers digging into her tender flesh as he pumped out his own orgasm.

  They lay there spent for a few moments, neither able to move. Sam got up first to discard the condom and came back with some tissues for Emma. After righting their clothes, Emma stood awkwardly and stared at him. If possible, he looked even sexier than before; his hair tousled and his cocky grin taking up half his face. It was no wonder she was starting to fall for him.

  She accepted him.

  Even though she shouldn’t.

  She wanted him.

  Even though he was the wrong choice. Her heart was no longer hers; she’d handed it over to him free and clear. Now she just had to tell him. He kissed her hard on the mouth once and they moved away from the work bench. Stooping he picked up a manila envelope from the pile of scattered papers Emma had dropped earlier. “What’s this?” he asked.

  Emma glanced at it and shrugged. “I’m not sure. It doesn’t look like I’ve opened it yet…it must have gotten mixed in with that filing.”

  Sam tore it open and shook out the contents. Two 5x7 photographs tipped out into his waiting hand, the images making his blood run cold. Both were of Emma—one of her smiling and walking through the town with another female and the second of her completely naked as she stood in what he assumed was the bathroom in her home. Written across that photo in black magic marker was a chilling message. “Soon, my love.”

  Impatient, Emma peered over his shoulder to see what he’d found that was causing him to make that face and gasped out loud when she was the pictures.

  “Who took those?! Where did you get them?” she demanded, pinning him with an accusatory glare.

  “Emma, the envelope is addressed to you. No sender information.” He flipped it over to show her. A sick feeling of dread tingled over her skin as she stared at the images she’d taken from Sam. Nothing about something like this was good news at all.

  “The murders…in town. Do you think—do you think these are a message from him?” Emma asked, fearful for his answer.

  “If I had to guess, I’d say yes. You fit the profile of the victims…I didn’t notice that until now,” Sam frowned at her, uneasiness setting in.

  Emma stuffed the photos back in the envelope and headed for the door. “Um, I’m going to come in late in the morning if that’s okay, I better report these photos down at the station. I’d go now, but I really just want to go home and check things out. I feel so…violated that he’s been watching me like this.”

  “You’re not going anywhere by yourself right now. I won’t allow it, Emma.” He crossed his arms over his chest, showing her he meant business.

  “You won’t allow it?” she repeated. Who did he think he was, ordering her around? She wasn’t a child; she could take care of herself, regardless of what he thought. “I don’t really care what you’ll allow. Off you fuck over there now, your bossiness isn’t going to get you anywhere with me,” she snapped, her temper getting the better of her. She was terrified and didn’t need him making it worse.

  Sam’s brows snapped together at her tone and he went to reach for her arm but she jerked away. “Don’t, Sam. I’m fine, I just want to go home.”

  Misinterpreting her fear for regret over what they’d just done, he stepped back a few feet. Of course she wouldn’t want him. He was damaged, likely dead on the inside after all the crimes he’d committed; it had been foolish of him to entertain the idea that she might actually have feelings for someone with a past as dark as his.

  “You’re right. It’s well past your shift and as I told you earlier, you’re fired. I hope you’re not expecting any pay past four p.m.” With that parting insult, he turned his back on her and walked away while every instinct screamed at him to stop and go back. To beg her not to go; to give him a chance to prove that he was worthy of redemption…that they could be something dynamic together, if only she would trust him enough to let him help her with this stalker situation. Deep down he feared that she was scared of him; that he’d pushed her too far while fucking her and now she couldn’t see anything but the monster he’d become. It was better that he let her go; the police could handle a couple creepy photos.

  He was better off alone and she deserved much better than him.

  EMMA STOMPED INTO her house and let the door slam shut behind her. What the hell was wrong with him? They’d had the most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had and then he just throws her out like she was nothing more than a whore? Tears stung the back of her eyes as she ripped her shoes off and tossed them in a pile by the low bench she sat on every morning. They had a connection; she knew he felt it as well. It was impossible not to after the intimacy that they shared.

  “Stupid men. Stupid men that think they know stupid everything,” she muttered to herself as she headed for the bathroom to wash off the day’s make-up. The crushing defeat she felt over seeing her dreams slip away from her was enough to have her almost breaking down. Maybe her uncle would be reasonable…if she explained about what happened. She blew out a breath and stared at herself in the mirror. The day had not ended up how she thought it would and now it seemed like she’d made a huge fool out of herself by sleeping with her boss. Or former boss now.

  Bending over the sink, she splashed warm water over her face a few times, anxious to wash away any trace of what had transpired in the shop. Deciding that a shower was a much better option, she straightened and grabbed a small towel from the pile beside her. Drying her face, she dropped it back onto the counter and then let out a strangled scream when she locked eyes with another person in the mirror. Standing behind her was the hulking form of a man wearing a mask. He seemed somewhat familiar, but she didn’t place him immediately. He advanced on her as she stumbled to get to the door of the bathroom and escape into the hallway, tears of relief burst from her eyes as she accomplished her goal and sprinted as fast as she could to the main entrance. Her stocking feet slipped on her gleaming hardwood floors and she cursed herself for taking off her shoes.

  He was close, she knew he was by the ragged way his breath was escaping from him like some sort of freight train. She reached the door and yanked it open getting down a few of the concrete steps. Her car was just a few yards away, if she could get to it; she could lock herself in and wait for help. Just a few more feet—

  “Ahhhh,” she screamed as she was plucked off the ground around the waist. The man carried her like a football under his arm, ignoring the way she kicked, screamed and scratched at him. He kicked her door shut again and snapped the lock into place, effectively trapping her right where he wanted her. Entering the living room, he wrestled her onto the couch and bound her hands and feet with a thick rope. When she was restrained, he sat back on the cushions, breathing heavy.

  “It didn’t need to be that difficult. You could have really hurt yourself, my love,” he scolded her.

  “Who are you? What do you want? Get out of my house!” she yelled. She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly who this man was and why he was there. He was the killer, the man with the rope that had been murdering all those young girls. Panic started to bubble up inside her, but she forced it down. She needed to keep calm and stay strong. She wasn’t a weakling; she could outsmart this son-of-a-bitch, she knew it.

  He brushed the hair away from her face and looked at her with a mixture of tenderness and love. Disgusted, she cleared her throat and spit at him, her aim true and catching him right in the eye. His body
went completely still and Emma stopped her struggling at the slight change in the atmosphere of the room. He took a tissue from his pocket and calmly wiped the spittle from his eye. His deliberate movements were sending her nerves dancing and she knew the retribution for what she’d just done was going to be fierce.

  His hand snaked out and weaved into her hair roughly, snapping her head back. She let out a whimper of pain and fought back more tears.

  “That was rude. Rude, rude, rude!” he yelled in her face, his anger evident. He breathed heavy, trying to calm himself. He let her hair go, ripping a few strands from her scalp as he pulled back and then removed something from his pocket, slipping it over her head.

  Emma panicked as she realized it was some sort of wire rope and he slowly pulled it tight until it was snug against her skin. He then leaned back and pulled off his mask, revealing himself to her.

  She gasped and the terror over potentially being strangled to death was pushed aside as she stared at her attacker, shocked.

  “Cole? Wha—why? What’s going on here?” she asked, still not sure why one of Sam’s best customers and a known ladies’ man would be holding her hostage in her home.

  “For you. I’m here for you, my love. I’ve been watching you for a very long time, I love everything about you. The way the sun glints off your hair giving it a tint of red. Your smile, so sweet and innocent. The way your nose crinkles just a little at the end when you laugh. How your nipples turn to sexy little nubs when you step out of the shower. There’s nothing that I don’t love about you, Emma. I’ve waited a long time but I’m finally ready to bring you home.” His words, which clearly pleased him to tell her by the maniacal grin on his face, sent revulsion flowing through her. He was crazy, out of his fucking mind and had clearly been stalking her for quite some time. The fact that he’d even caught her naked made her sick to her stomach. Who knew what else he’d seen.

  “You’re insane. I’m not going anywhere with you. Look, Cole, I don’t know what’s going on here, but please. Just untie me and we can go somewhere to talk; just the two of us. You need help. Let me help you.” Emma prayed that by offering time alone, just them, that he would buy her lies and let her go. If she could convince him that she would be by his side no matter what, maybe he would trust her enough to loosen her bonds.

  He ignored her and leaned in closer, grabbing her when she leaned back to avoid him touching her. He inhaled and then sat back, his face contorted in disgust.

  “You smell like him. I saw you. I saw you two today in his workshop. He had his hands all over you, his fucking cock was in you. He touched you when you are mine.” He grabbed the knot of the rope and pulled her onto the floor, heading back towards the bathroom.

  “I can’t take you home in this state. What will the others think? I need you clean and pure for me,” he rambled on to himself as he dragged her. Emma fought and twisted her body, trying to angle her bound foot around the leg of the end table, hoping to slow him down. She cried out in frustration when she missed and instead starting flopping her body like a fish, trying to dislodge his hold.

  Once in the bathroom, he pulled back the shower curtain and turned the water on to a scolding temperature. “Hot water will do the trick. We’ll get you all cleaned up and then be on our way.” He spoke as though he was outlining the itinerary for a family vacation instead of how he was about to burn her in an unwanted shower.

  “God. No, please don’t do this,” she begged as he grabbed a pair of scissors that she kept in the bathroom to cut tags from new articles of clothing and made quick work of slicing through her t-shirt and bra. He untied her feet and pulled down her pants and panties avoiding her kicking feet as she struggled to get a shot in at his nose. Once she was completely naked, he picked her up and dumped her unceremoniously into the tub and under the spray of the hot water.

  It hit her like a red-hot iron poker all over her body. The pain was immediate and hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before. Cole dumped soap over her head and began scrubbing her with one of her hair brushes. The bristles felt like steel and she screamed bloody murder while trying to squirm out of his hold.

  “Better. Don’t you see how this is better? I love the smell of your soap, Emma. This is how we’ll start our new lives. Clean and pure and ready for a beautiful beginning.”

  Fat tears rolled down her cheeks at the torture. Her body had grown used to the water temperature, but the brush? The way he was dragging it over every inch of her skin—even between her thighs—was an agony she wouldn’t wish on anyone.

  When he was satisfied, he shut the water off and wrapped her in a fluffy towel before pulling her from the tub. Her body was limp, the fight gone from her for the moment. She looked him straight in the eyes and mustered all the hate she could gather and hoped it showed on her face.

  “I’ll never love you. I’ll never think of you as anything more than a cruel, cowardly piece of shit. You’re nothing to me and you never will be. You may win in taking me from my home today; but you’ll never have me. You’re beneath me and always will be.”

  Cole sucked in a shocked breath at her words and anguish splashed across his features, which quickly turned to rage. He grabbed the end of the rope around her neck and began to pull.

  “No. No! You are mine. We are destined to be together; you’ll see.” Emma choked as the air was sucked out of her lungs and black dots danced in front of her eyes. I’m sorry, Sam was the last thing she thought before everything went black.

  Sam walked up to Emma’s door practicing eating crow every step he took. After she’d left, he really felt like an asshole for the way he’d thrown her out after fucking her brains out. She was worth more than that and didn’t deserve the way he’d treated her. The fact of the matter was, she meant more to him than he cared to admit—he was dangerously close to falling in love with her.

  This business with the stalker really had him worried and he didn’t want her waiting until the following day to report it to the authorities. He was going to convince her to let him help if he had to drag her down to the station.

  Stepping up to her door, he thought he heard a muffled scream. Not hesitating to see if he’d actually heard something, he tried the handle. Finding it locked, he stepped back and with one kick, broke the door down and charged inside.

  The pillows from the couch in the main room were all over the floor and most of the furniture was askew. Hearing sounds from down the hall, he took off running and stopped at the bathroom door. Seeing the man leaning over Emma, he let out a roar and attacked. Looping his arm around the bastard’s neck, he dragged him backwards and away from her. His frame outweighed his by fifty pounds but Sam had rage on his side plus years of combat training.

  They ended up on the floor in a heap and the attacker got in the first punch to the side of Sam’s head. Seeing that it was Cole Masterson shocked him for a moment, but he quickly regained his senses and returned his blow with one aimed at his windpipe, effectively disarming him. Cole fell back and Sam gained the upper ground, delivering another blow to his nose.

  Cole screamed at him and threw his other arm up to block the next punch. “She’s mine! You can’t fucking have her. I’ll kill her before I let you fucking touch her again!” He managed to knock Sam back on his ass and ran back into the bathroom, scissors raised over his head and he reached Emma’s side.

  “No!” Sam bellowed. He tackled Cole to the floor once more and wrenched the scissors from his hand and in one fluid movement, plunged them into his jugular. Cole gurgled as blood spurted out, covering them both. He strangled on his own blood and the light behind his eyes went out. Without waiting to see if he was truly dead, Sam rushed to Emma, dropping to his knees beside her.

  “No, no, no, Emma. Don’t die on me.” History felt like it was repeating itself as he felt for a pulse. She wasn’t fucking breathing. He immediately started CPR, begging and pleading with her to wake up as he started compressions on her chest.

  It seemed like years p
assed as he worked on her, desperate to see her chest rise again. After a few minutes, he sat back in disbelief. It happened again. He’d been too late and hadn’t saved the woman he cared about again.

  “Fuck, no. No, no.” He covered his face in his hands and let his head fall onto his knees.

  “Stop swearing, you idiot. And dammit get me a drink, this has been one hell of a day.” Sam’s head shot up and he was met with Emma’s beautiful blue eyed stare. She was trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace. He didn’t care though, she was awake and alive and that was all that mattered.

  “I thought you were fucking dead.” He pulled her into his arms and ripped the offending rope off from around her neck. He untied her hands and she wound them around his neck, burying her face in his chest as tears began to fall.

  “I was so scared, Sam. I thought he was going to kill me,” she cried. Sam rocked her gently and stroked her wet hair.

  “I know, baby. I’m so damn sorry. I should have been here.” He noticed how red and raw her skin was and swore again. He wanted to kill the fucker all over again for hurting her.

  “We need to get you to the hospital, Emma. Your skin is all fucked up.” Emma nodded and Sam lifted her in his arms.

  “I’ll go as long as you promise me one thing,” she conceded.

  “What’s that?”

  “The next time we have sex…don’t fire me right after.”

  “You got it, baby.”

  Two Months Later

  EMMA ROLLED OVER in bed and stretched, letting out an unladylike yawn. Seeing Sam sprawled out beside her filled her heart with joy. They’d been living together ever since the day that she’d been taken hostage by Cole and nearly killed. After rescuing her, Sam had insisted that she come and stay with him at the farm house and she’d been in no condition to argue with him about it. Since that day, she’d just never left. A fact that secretly made her happier than she’d ever been in her life.