by Chiah Wilder
“Hey, bro,” Throttle said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“Been busy,” Animal replied.
“Yeah … How’s the parenting thing going?”
He shrugged. “Okay. Are you staying for the party?”
“Nah … Kimber and I are heading to Vail in about an hour.” Throttle tented his fingers in front of him.
“Are you guys taking the back roads?” Animal asked.
“Yep. We’ve been itching to go for the last damn month, but the weather’s been for shit. We’re gonna go over Canyon Way.”
“Those backroads kick ass. I need to do something like that, but it’s kinda hard now with the kid and all.” He took a long pull on his beer.
“I haven’t ridden them in a long time, and it’ll be a first for my old lady. Where’s Lucy tonight?”
“A sleepover at Jax’s.”
“Well, fuck you!” Smokey cried as he walked into the main room. “Are you just here for a pit stop, or are you gonna party tonight?”
“Party. You look like you did a bit of that last night.” Animal chuckled.
“Damn—it was wild. Some of the guys from the Night Rebels stopped over on their way to Wyoming for the bike rally. Shit—I’m so damn hungover.” Smokey sank down in the chair and put his head in his hands.
Throttle laughed then rose to his feet and patted Smokey on the shoulder. “I don’t envy you, dude. I gotta go. Kimber and me are riding to Vail.”
Smokey nodded and waved away the shot of Jack the prospect brought over. Hog then put it in front of Animal and asked Smokey what he wanted.
“A fuckin’ Bloody Mary. I always have that when I’m fuckin’ wasted,” he replied, and Hog scurried off to make the drink.
Bones and Klutch walked in just after Throttle left. Animal bumped fists with them, then they plopped down on the chairs, joining him and Smokey.
“How’s your dad?” Bones asked. His facial muscles were taut, and he kept fidgeting with his keyring.
“Good. What’s going on?” Animal said.
“Just got some shit news. A friend of my sister’s was found murdered in a small hotel just outside of Pinewood Springs. She was found tied up and stabbed. Fuck, she didn’t deserve that. You met her,” Bones said to Animal.
“Who was she?” he asked.
“Katie Sellers. Jada knows her. My kid sister’s been freaked out and crying all day.” Bones picked up the shot of tequila and swallowed it.
“That’s fucked. I better give Jada a call. Do the damn badges have any idea who did it?”
“Not a clue.” Bones gestured for another shot.
“As usual.” Klutch snorted. “They couldn’t find their asses with both hands.”
“What was she doing at the hotel?” Animal asked.
“Anna said she didn’t know. I guess Katie didn’t tell anyone she was going.” Bones picked up the second shot and threw it back.
“A woman goes to a hotel to get fucked,” Smokey grumbled. “Find out who she was meeting and you got your goddamn killer. It fuckin’ pisses me off when men do that shit. They’re nothing but pussies who can’t get it up without hurting a woman. Fuck!” He slammed his fist on the table then groaned and put his hand back on his head.
Animal couldn’t help but think of his sister, and a stab of icy fear hit him in the gut. “Maybe it’s an ex.” He took out his phone, then rose. “I’ll be right back—I gotta make a call.”
He walked through the hallway and out onto the back porch, then tapped in Jada’s number.
“Hey, Animal.” Jada’s voice was thick, as if she’d been crying.
His heart squeezed. “Bones just told me about your friend, Katie. That fuckin’ sucks,” he said in a low voice.
“I can’t believe it.” A few sniffles echoed through the phone. “You’ve met her a few times, remember?”
Animal couldn’t place her. “Not really.”
“She came to my birthday party last year, and she was at the carwash a few weeks ago when you came by to talk with Wheelie. The girl with the dark brown hair down to her shoulders. She was kind of freaked out by all your tats, remember?”
Katie’s face became clearer in his mind and he nodded. “Oh, yeah. That was her? Fuck. She seemed like a real nice girl.”
“She was. Why would anyone want to do this to her?” Her voice hitched and then she went quiet, and he could hear her crying.
“People are fucked up assholes.” Each sob and gasp made him flinch. “I wish I knew what the fuck to say,” he muttered.
“It’s okay. Thanks for calling me. I’ll be all right.”
“Be careful. Don’t ever go anywhere with a guy unless you really know him well, and even then, let me know.”
Jada let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, that’ll really work. I have a hard enough time with Dad screening my dates. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like if you get involved.”
He chuckled. “I probably don’t wanna know everything about your dates. But on a serious note, just let me know the name of the guys so I can screen them. There’re too many twisted fuckers out there that it isn’t enough to just be careful—you gotta be smart, armed, and careful.”
“I know. Okay, if I’m really interested in a guy, I’ll let you do a background check on him.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” Silence fell between them, then he cleared his throat. “I gotta get going. You good?” he asked.
“I will be. Thanks for caring.”
“Fuck, you’re my little sister. Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
“Later.”
Animal clicked off the connection and stared at the blank screen for a long time. Katie’s face kept floating through his mind. He’d just seen her and now she was dead—brutally murdered by some fucked-up excuse for a human being. It wasn’t like violence or brutal atrocities were alien to him. Living in an outlaw world, he’d learned to appreciate each day and look behind his back constantly. Death was always imminent, but that was the price each member of the Insurgents paid to live their life by their own rules—a lifestyle they were prepared for and would fight to the death for—but poor Katie was like a lamb going to the slaughter. She wasn’t in tune with the dangers that lurked in the shadows, always waiting to seek and destroy the unwary. Life could be so fucked up.
Animal slid his phone back into his pocket and made his way back to the main room. He’d have to make sure Lucy was always safe, and he could already anticipate the fights they’d have when she started dating. Thankfully that was many years from now, but no matter what, he’d always keep his daughter safe. He had to—that’s what fathers did. For a brief moment, Animal wondered if Katie’s father felt like he failed her because he wasn’t able to protect her.
Bones, Smokey, and Klutch were still at the table, but Charlotte and Lola had joined them. The women waved at Animal when he approached, and Lola grabbed his hand and pulled him down on the chair.
“Long time, baby,” she cooed into his ear.
Moving away, he nodded. “Yeah—been busy.”
Undaunted, Lola scooted closer. “Then you must be real tense, baby. I can relax you real good, you know that.” She pressed her lips against his cheek.
Animal gently pushed her away. “Not now. Maybe later—I’m staying for the party.”
Smokey raised his head up and stared at him. “What the fuck?”
Without answering, Animal took out his phone again and started fiddling with it, ignoring Smokey’s hard gaze on him.
Lola raked her fingers through his hair. “Okay, baby. I’ll look for you tonight.” She turned to Klutch and brushed up against him.
Animal just wasn’t feeling it. After all the bravado talk he’d given himself back at the house, he just wasn’t down for it. Maybe tonight. The thing about Katie killed it. But he knew that was BS. What had killed it was his pretty neighbor who looked so beautiful and sexy in the sunlight.
; Wanting to get a head start on his plan to get good and drunk that night, Animal motioned to Hog for another shot.
Chapter Eleven
LIGHT FROM THE computer screen glowed bluish-white in the darkened den as he scrolled through profiles of women who’d expressed interest in him. It’d been two weeks since he’d united body and soul with his lovely Katie and sated the hungry darkness inside him. That should have kept the beast at bay for a few months at least, but it didn’t. The evil urge clawed its way up from his depths, craving and demanding more.
It’s too soon. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. In the past six months, the darkness had been surfacing too frequently, and from the quarter-page article he’d read in the Pinewood Springs Tribune, he knew the police from the surrounding counties were comparing notes.
The man slammed his fist on the desk, angry at the sloppiness of his last kill. There had to be some way for him to control his impulse, to keep it under wraps for a longer time, but he knew he was only kidding himself. The darkness had a mind of its own, and it was so damn relentless.
Shaking his head, the killer focused his attention back to the screen. A frustrated sigh pushed through his pursed lips while a carousel of different women’s pictures blurred by as he clicked the mouse. Not one of them was even remotely satisfactory, let alone perfect. A thin film of sweat beaded along his hairline and he ground his teeth. He’d been slouched over the computer for the past two hours and nothing to show for it. The thought of searching for a new dating site crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. One of the main reasons he’d chosen Discreet Passion was the messaging system. He could conduct all his chats through instant messenger in live time and not leave a record of his conversations. A lot of the women wanted to exchange emails, but he’d have none of that. Once the beast had been fed, he deleted the women’s profiles from his hard drive, and then go in search of another perfect lady.
But tonight is a bust. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and dug his fingers into the back of his neck, massaging a growing headache. It seemed like it was getting harder to find the perfect woman.
Suddenly the door pushed open, and the light from the hallway spilled into the room. His eyes snapped open and heat flushed through his body.
“What’re you doing in the dark, honey?” his wife asked as she switched on the floor lamp next to the leather wingback chair.
Nostrils flaring, he quickly clicked out of the open window and closed the lid of the laptop.
“I’ve told you to never come in here while I’m working,” he gritted.
His wife brought her hand to the base of her throat and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but Tristan wants you to read him the story you started last night.”
His wife stood tall and lean, her arms folded across her small breasts, her lips red from the matte lipstick he hated, and her too-tanned face looked so fucking earnest. For a fleeting moment, she disgusted him, and he wanted to reach across the room and pummel her with a ferocity that scared him. This was his Frou-Frou … what was he thinking?
“He doesn’t want me to read it,” she said, taking a few steps back toward the door. It was as if she could sense his thoughts.
Ashamed of himself, he pushed up from the chair. “Of course I’ll read to him. Reading is so important in the education of a child. Did you have Aaron read aloud for you?”
Frou-Frou nodded. “He’s doing so much better since Olivia’s been working with him.”
“Olivia is very good at what she does.” The image of the teacher’s assistant with her captivating green eyes, curvy body, and long brown hair sent a rush of heat to his groin.
In the past six months, he’d found himself avoiding her as much as he could at work. He couldn’t risk doing something stupid with someone he knew, but it’d become increasingly hard to keep the urge to be with her at bay.
“What are you thinking?” His wife laughed. “You seem so … distracted.”
The killer slipped his arm around his wife’s neck and pulled her to him, brushing his lips against hers. “Nothing really. I just have a full week of meetings. I’m looking forward to the weekend. Maybe we can all go to Silverton for lunch and take a ride on the train.”
A smile spread across her face. “Tristan and Aaron would love that—they’re crazy for the steam engine. I’d enjoy it too.” She pecked his cheek lightly.
“Then it’s settled.”
They walked out of the den and climbed the stairs to the second-floor bedrooms.
Thirty minutes later, he switched off Tristan’s light and closed the door halfway, then sauntered down the hall to the master bedroom. He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him, and found Frou-Frou propped up in bed with two pillows behind her back, reading a magazine.
She glanced up at him. “Did you finish the book?”
“Yes. Tomorrow night he wants you to start a new one with him.” He unbuttoned his shirt.
His wife stared at him as he took off his clothes, and the desire in her gaze rushed through him. The man had been holding his hunger at an arm’s length for the past week, and it had grown even more since his disappointment in not connecting with the right girl that evening.
Frou-Frou put the magazine down on the nightstand and slipped out of bed and padded into the bathroom. By the time she came out, he’d stripped down to his boxers. She threw him a small smile, and he watched her move over to the walk-in closet and hang up her robe. She could never just throw it on the floor, or on a goddamn chair.
“Did you close the door tightly?” she asked as she walked over to one of the lamps on the nightstand and switched it off.
The brown-haired man softly walked up behind her. “Yes.” He gently squeezed her shoulders and let his hands fall down to her pert breasts. He pressed her closer to him and brushed his lips against her ear. “I need you,” he whispered.
His wife turned around in his arms and faced him. Leaning into him, she pressed her mouth against his, but he stepped back as anger pricked his nerves.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I got caught up in the moment and forgot.”
He didn’t say anything but his gaze stayed on her as she ambled over to the other lamp on the nightstand by her side of the bed. An aggressive lover appalled him, and he’d made it quite clear to his wife from the beginning of their marriage that he’d have none of it. He was the hunter, and his wife was the … well … she was the prey, and that’s the way he liked it. To be in control at all times and the one to do most of the touching during lovemaking was what he required and needed.
The light went out and moonlight poured in from the window, illuminating his wife’s body. In the alabaster glow, his wife’s skin appeared pale, almost ghostly, and beckoned him. As he walked over to her, images of Katie, Melanie, and so many other lovely women entombed in his brain flashed through his mind.
He reached over and yanked Frou-Frou to him, and a startled gasp flew from her parted lips as she landed against him with a thud.
“Honey, I—”
Two fingers rested on her mouth. “Don’t say anything,” he said in a low voice.
She wore a red satin gown that clung to her body, and he slowly slipped the straps down, peppering kisses across her neck and shoulders as he did so. He watched as the gown slid down to the floor and she stepped out of it, her nakedness glowing in the soft white light.
For a long moment he stayed there, immobile, drinking in her loveliness, imagining the softness of her skin, relishing the dark craving rising to the surface. Then he pushed her down on the bed and took off his boxers. Satisfaction coursed through him when his wife gasped at his erection.
At that moment, he was Hunter and she was one of the young beauties he met online. He ran his hands up and down her trembling body, then lowered his head and slipped her nipple into his mouth and bit hard … very hard. She cried out in pain. It was the sound Hunter had been waiting for—it was music to his ears. He grabbed her legs and b
ent them at the knees, forcing them open wide—oh, so wide. He tuned out her whimpers, her soft pleas, and rammed into her so hard that it took the breath out of him.
The beast had come to life.
It was his wife’s strangled gasps and her nails clawing at his hands that dragged him out of his climax, and his eyelids flew open. Horror spread through him when he saw his hands around his beloved Frou-Frou’s neck choking the life out of her. The man immediately let go and rolled away, then pulled her into a loving embrace as she coughed and gulped air into her lungs.
Mortified, he stroked her upper back and murmured sweet and loving words to her. How could he let the darkness do this to his wonderful and patient wife? A lump of fear coiled in the pit of his stomach, and his heartbeat pounded like a train barreling down the tracks. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t stopped? The answer to that chilled him to the bone. He had to find another beauty very soon; otherwise the beast would devour Frou-Frou and destroy his life.
With his wife now peaceful in his arms, he fell into a troubled sleep.
Chapter Twelve
OLIVIA READ OVER her profile on Discreet Passion, made sure the blurred image of her face was concealed enough so she wasn’t recognizable to someone who’d know her, and pushed the PUBLISH button. She inhaled and exhaled deeply as she stared at the screen. Within a few seconds of her profile going live, several men had sent her messages and many “winks”—a way of flirting in cyberspace. The whole thing kind of creeped her out, but her psychology professor, Dr. Davison, loved the premise of her research paper and was looking forward to seeing what her data turned up.
Olivia knew she’d lucked out in having Dr. Davison as her advisor, and even though the classes were online, she’d meet with him several times over the past few months. The professor was good-looking, had two cute kids, and was totally devoted to his wife.
