This Guy Kills Me

by Anlyn Hansell

  Her head just sort of flopped onto his shoulder, bringing her nose close to his neck. He smelled like soap. Clean and fragrant and just…nice.

  “Yer hot…” She mumbled as he descended the stairs. She felt a slight jolt immediately after her involuntarily blurted declaration caused him to right himself and hug her to him a bit more fiercely.

  “Cut it out, Jane,” he stated quietly as he stepped back to the main floor and strode to the bathroom door.

  “’Issh true.” Oh! Stupid, stupid mouth. Close lips…close them now…” As soon as her feet were placed on the floor, she sloppily pushed away from him and staggered toward the front door.

  “What are you doing?” she could hear behind her. A few more steps on tingling legs and she stopped abruptly. “I’m outta heeeeere…” No way was she being tied up again. And no more trunk rides either. This was it. She was putting her foot down…

  Her legs decided to fold at the knees; causing them to hit the thick rug below before her torso came crashing down like a fallen tree to the floor. Nothing registered. No pain, no…nothing, just darkness. Sweet dark oblivion…

  He stood for a moment, staring at her prone body lying face down on his floor. The only thought racing through his mind was…She thinks I’m hot…it caused the tiniest of smiles to crease his face before he quickly walked over and plucked her off the floor easily.

  Chapter 5

  Asshole…

  She gave a tug at her wrists and sure enough, they were bound to something. She opened groggy eyes to daylight illuminating the wood ceiling above her.

  “Pete!” she practically shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls.

  “PEEETE!” No response. Maybe he was out running again. Did he even think of the consequences of leaving her tied up? What if he got hit by a bus? Of course they were in the woods…maybe a tree would fall on him or he could be fatally attacked by a band of pissed off…wolverines or something. Did he die last night? What if they killed him instead of the other way around? What then? Slow starvation, agonizing death. Bound without any means of escape; utter boredom until she finally succumbed.

  “PEEEEEEEETE!”

  At least the bed was comfy. She stretched her legs and arms. Of course her legs were bound too, because why not? This seriously sucked.

  Oh! And she had to go. Now. Bad. Oh, please let that asshole be alive…

  *****

  He was bleeding. A small red stain appeared on his side, soaking through the fabric of his shirt sometime during his series of pull ups. Releasing his grip on the tree branch, he jumped down to the ground below and immediately lifted his shirt. The bandage was practically soaked prompting him to walk back in the direction of the cabin.

  Miguel put up a bit of a fight last night, reopening the wound Jane so graciously bestowed on him two nights ago. He got a couple of well-placed punches in before finally succumbing to the tranquilizer. Miguel was once a prize fighter in his early twenties and apparently his skills were still sharp, but not quite sharp enough.

  No doubt all trace of his body was now gone. That’s how it worked. As soon as the hit was finished, he typed the positional coordinates from his GPS in code and left the body. Assured someone in the ‘organization’ would take care of the rest and they always did. Quite well, actually. Nothing would ever make the papers or the local news. They just simply disappeared and no one would bat an eye, shed a tear or otherwise give half a shit anyway.

  “PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETE!” he could hear a muffled screech as he approached the cabin causing his previous thoughts to vanish and a stupid smile to spread across his face. He immediately forced his lips back to a neutral position, lecturing himself to detach although it was becoming more difficult. This was the most time he had spent with another human being in the last nine years. Of course, it would have to be with a woman so breathtakingly beautiful it was hard to look at her and not spring a boner. It wasn’t just her looks, though. She was silly and sometimes enchanting and she didn’t even know it. Was it possible that she had absolutely no clue she was delivering drugs? He wouldn’t think about that. It was too late. The plan was in motion. Jane was a means to an end and that was that. Period.

  “Peeeeete! You effing asshat!” Her voice was on the verge of cracking as he shut the door behind him and immediately walked toward the stairs.

  “Hurry up! Dammit, Pete. Oh, I hate your guts!” she yelled as he ascended the stairs and finally appeared in front of her.

  “I have to go. Come on!” she whined. Her hair was a tangled mess, spilling over the pillows, cascading over the edge of the mattress.

  “Good morning,” he stated in mocking, cheerful voice as he cautiously approached the side of the bed.

  Her eyes affixed themselves to the stain on his shirt.

  “You’re bleeding. Good. I hope you die.”

  “I’m sorry; do you want to be untied?” he asked with feigned innocence, stopping and staring down at her with a flat expression.

  “Yesssssss,” she hissed out, holding her bound hands out for him.

  “Take it back.”

  “No. I hate you. I meant it. Untie me. NOW.”

  “Jane -”

  “Pete? I swear if you don’t untie me now you’re going to be buying a new mattress. Do you get me? You can be a snarky dick later. Right now? You need to untie me,” she schooled her voice into something resembling calm and rational as her eyes pleaded with his.

  Immediately his fingers went to work while he kept a close eye on her. From what little he knew of Jane, it could be a trick. Of course, she never did make it to the bathroom last night. It almost made him feel just the tiniest bit guilty…

  “Yeah, you should feel bad…” she huffed out, staring into his eyes. He blinked in surprise.

  That was weird…

  *****

  “I was a nursing student…actually, I thought about being a PA, but I quit school.”

  “I know. Why did you quit?” He was watching as her fingers carefully pulled the tape from one side of his bandage. Her eyes rose to his as her fingers ceased their movement.

  “What do you mean ‘you know’? Were you checking up on me?”

  “Of course. There isn’t very much on you…other than the fact that you switch jobs more often than most people switch underwear. Why is that?”

  She continued to gaze at him, her bottom lip disappearing behind her front teeth for a moment before popping out again. She was thinking. Probably thinking of a lie…he thought as his eyes shot warily to her hand very near an open wound.

  “This needs stitches. Do you have anything in your bag?” She clearly ignored his question, shifting her focus to the small black bag on the floor next to him. All manner of first aid necessities resided within and her hands began rooting through it.

  “Yeah, somewhere. Are you sure you can do that?”

  “Of course I can do it. Although why I should even want to help your undeserving ass is a mystery to me. If you ever tie me up again, I will kill you.”

  “If I ever tie you up again you won’t be able to kill me…because you’ll be tied up.”

  Was he smirking at her? Yes, yes he was…

  A small huff of breath escaped her lips. “That’s not funny.” She grabbed a small package and examined it closely. “This’ll do. Take your shirt off and lay down.”

  Her hands busied themselves opening the small box revealing a needle and thick black thread. Setting it aside, she rooted for gauze and alcohol or anything that could be used to clean the wound first. His body still hadn’t moved.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “I don’t know if I want you above me with a sharp object,” he muttered.

  “Fine. Bleed to death. See if I care.” She pushed up with her arms only to have them grasped and held steady. It put their faces only inches apart causing a small intake of breath on her part and a softening of expression on his.

  “Sorry. Go ahead. Jane?”

  “Hmmm?” She watc
hed as he removed his shirt and laid his torso down, the muscles in his arms contorting, his abs…dear lord, the man had some killer abs. He must live at a gym or something…

  “Nothing funny,” he warned, causing her eyes to travel to his.

  “Funny like drugging someone? Funny like that? I love your double standards. Just shut up and let me concentrate and don’t cry, or whine.”

  She dabbed the alcohol on the gauze pad and looked at him with a slightly self-satisfied grin. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

  *****

  It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. Granted it was sweet in a twisted, demented and somewhat sadistic way, but this was Pete we were talking about here… she thought as the car bounced and jolted as they made their way toward the paved road.

  Sometime after whacking some unfortunate soul last night he stopped at Meijer’s and purchased underwear and some pajamas for her. Cute pajamas too. Soft flannel pants with matching cotton shirts and underwear that actually fit and were somewhat flattering. The best part? He opened the trunk on their way out despite her usual protests and there it was: an inflated Pretty Princess mattress lay in the trunk complete with a built-in pillow. He made her a comfy little bed in the trunk and if it wasn’t such a colossal pain in the ass to ride around in his trunk, she might have taken it for the kind gesture it was.

  After a few minutes of stewing over her fate, she relaxed, except for that last bump. Now with the extra spring of the mattress beneath her, she wasn’t thudding against the bottom of the trunk; she was launched up and into the backside of the trunk hood. Lovely…

  It was the thought that counted. He almost looked proud of himself when he presented the trunk to her. His expression was kind of sweet with his raised eyebrows and small, almost sheepish smile. Her response was a low growl and an eye roll. One would think after proving her cooperation and expertly stitching his wound and quite perfectly too…one would think that one would be grateful and perhaps one would be a bit more trusting. Apparently not. At least it was more comfortable. Another brutal, body launching bump…

  Maybe not.

  *****

  “All right. That was a disaster. Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” she stated, taking another bite of her pita sandwich.

  “Does anyone like you?”

  Three visits, three failed attempts at gleaning any information on Rick’s whereabouts and all netted absolutely nothing except two physical removals and one almost but she was too fast for the last one.

  She gave a shrug and swallowed. “I warned you…”

  “Yes, you did but I thought you were kidding. It’s like you’re missing something…”

  “What?”

  “It’s called an internal filter. Do you even have one? My God, you just blurt out…whatever. What is with you? Do you have Tourette’s or something?” His own sandwich was completely untouched in front of him.

  “No.”

  “Then what’s your problem?”

  “I…not that I care what you think or anything, but…it’s just so crazy, you’ll never believe me.”

  “Jane? I don’t know that anything you say would shock me anymore. Try me.” He finally picked up his sandwich, keeping his eyes attached to hers the entire time.

  She debated, chewed on her bottom lip for a few moments, looked around the small restaurant and fastened her eyes on his before leaning in. Here goes…

  “I’m psychic,” she whispered before leaning back against the booth and waiting for his reaction.

  He chewed the bite he just took and swallowed. His facial expression never changed.

  “Right.”

  “I’m serious! I have this…ability. Well, actually I think I’m cursed, but there it is. Do you think I’m crazy? You do. You think I’m nuts…”

  “That’s right! Are you reading my mind? This is fascinating. What am I thinking about right now?”

  “I have no idea. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Maybe we could go get some lottery tickets at the party store. Do you know the Powerball numbers? Jane this is great!” He pointed his sandwich at her with boyish enthusiasm etched on his face.

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “Oh my God, you are totally right! You have the sight, Jane. You do! Lucky me!” he whispered with widened eyes.

  “Shut up, Pete.”

  “I’m sorry Jane; that was the dumbest thing you’ve said so far,” he stated blandly before taking another bite.

  “It’s not dumb, it’s true.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I can’t…not with you. You’re kind of…closed off. I can only see…certain things.”

  “Really? Now I’m intrigued. What ‘certain things’ can you see, Jane?” From his patronizing expression, she could tell that convincing him would be next to impossible.

  “Bad stuff. Stuff you feel guilty or anxious about. I mean, it wasn’t always like that. I used to see all kinds of things – visions, I guess but then after the…accident, it was just all bad, all the time. I see it and then it comes out of my mouth. Like I have to tell you. I can’t control it. It just comes out -”

  “The accident.”

  “What?”

  “You said the accident. Tell me about that.”

  “No.”

  “You can tell me some BS about being some kind of weirdo selective psychic but you won’t tell me about your accident?”

  “I don’t like to talk about that.” She took a healthy bite and chewed nervously.

  “I want to talk about that -”

  “Tough shit,” she replied with a full mouth.

  A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched her. Of course he would be saddled with the world’s biggest nutcase. Why not? No wonder Rick dumped her ass.

  “Can I get you more water?” The pretty waitress stood next to them with a pitcher in her hands. Immediately Jane’s eyes diverted back to her plate before fixing on his.

  A deep breath and a turn of her head. “Excuse me -” She caught and held the woman’s gaze before her vision began to tunnel and images and thoughts flooded her brain.

  “You lied to him. He called you a couple of minutes ago and you didn’t answer. You have to tell him the truth. You have to tell him that it might not be his baby. Oh! The worst part? That’s his best friend. You slept with his best friend and you honestly think you two can keep it from him? Great and you’re supposed to go to a party tonight, all of you together, how cozy. You don’t even love him. You love…Jake, that’s it. You’d rather be with Jake, so then just be with Jake. Stop using…what’s his name? Fr…Fred? No, no…Frank! Stop using Frank! He doesn’t deserve this and you know it. Ok, gotta go.” She pushed out of the booth, sidestepping the glass from the pitcher that just shattered on the floor and splashed water all over the general vicinity of the booth and one of her legs.

  *****

  “Like I said, that was a lucky guess. Or you know her.”

  “Whatever.” She huffed out, evidently he was in denial and no amount of convincing on her part seemed to work. “Where are we going?” They exited the freeway and turned on to Martin Luther King Boulevard.

  “Velvet Master.”

  “Yuck. No way. That dude bites other people’s toenails.”

  “What?”

  “Seriously. The first time I walked in he was fantasizing about me naked and tied up. He was chewing my toenails. He’s married, by the way.” She stared ahead but could see his head turn in her peripheral vision.

  “You are so bizarre.”

  “So I’ve heard. I don’t really think he’s going to tell me anything either. I may have mentioned a few things the last time I was there,” she stated, still refusing to look at him. No doubt his expression would be anything but complimentary.

  “What did you tell him?” He pulled into the parking lot of a brick building painted a garishly bright shade of purple. The paint was peeling from years of neglect. The sign above th
e entrance wasn’t faring much better either judging by the faded lettering. “Come on.” She opened the door and stepped out, walking resolutely toward the building, prompting him to follow.

  “Ugh…not you. I don’t even have a delivery scheduled. What do you want?”

  “Maybe I’m just here to buy something,” she stated, careful not to look at him. Her eyes scanned the selection of sex toys in the glass case in front of her.

  He licked his lips and fought the urge to touch himself. “Yeah, really? Ok…what’re you into? I got these new anal beads…chicks dig ‘em.” This chick was nuts but she was so damn hot…

  “I don’t know. I wanted to surprise Rick, you know? We kind of…broke up and I want to get him back. Maybe get some lingerie and some…stuff and show up at his place? Of course, I don’t know where he’s staying right now -”

  “Ahhh…I don’t think…ummm.”

  “What? Hey what’s that?” She resisted the urge to look him in the eye, pretending to be mesmerized by the selection of crazy shaped plastic toys in front of her. A long, black plastic dildo with small protruding…things sticking out caught her eye.

  “That? French tickler. The nubs drive chicks crazy. You wanna try it?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I asked if you wanna try it out – see if you like it?” Despite her internal commands not to, she did look at him, well, his nose and his lips which he was currently wetting with his tongue. Gross.

  “What if I don’t like it?”

  “No problem. That’s why God invented hand sanitizer, ya know? So whadya think? Can I watch?”

  A snort emanated from somewhere behind her. Most likely Pete.

  “No thanks. Umm, so could you tell me where I can find Rick? I’m really…horny right now.”

  “Me too, baby…me too.”

  Don’t look at him. Don’t…

  “Doesn’t matter. He’s got a new girl. Works over at Bubble Butts. She’s hot, but not as hot as you. They were just here last week buying some shit. He took her to Vegas. She said something about putting this stuff in her luggage and he said TSA probably finds that shit all the time when people go there. I don’t think it’s gonna happen for ya.”