by Jane Blythe
Abe was stunned by Meadow’s beautiful words and her insightful views on both herself and him.
Talia had made him afraid to try loving someone again, but Meadow’s sweetness, and somewhat shaky determination to build a new life for herself and her baby, touched something deep down inside him. If she could endure everything life had thrown at her and still hold out hope that something better was waiting for her right around the next corner, then maybe he could let go of his fears too. Accept that life didn’t have to be a chore, that happiness really could be waiting for him out there, most likely all wrapped up in a five-foot three-inch frame, topped with hair that reminded him of sunshine, and eyes that were bluer than a summer sky.
“Are you sure?” he asked. He hadn’t been expecting that she would be ready for sex. He’d thought they’d just make out a little then go to sleep holding each other in their arms.
“I have never been surer of anything in my life.” Her confidence faltered a little. “Unless you don’t want to.”
“Baby, I want to,” he said with a growl. Scooping her up into his arms, ignoring any of the town busybodies who were no doubt watching and would no doubt have the rumor mill running rampant by sunrise, he all but ran the last block and a half to his brother’s house.
Balancing Meadow in one arm, he nibbled at her neck as he pulled his keys from his pocket and let them inside. Intending to carry her upstairs to the bedroom, he stopped when Meadow said, “Here, now, please, I need you inside me. I want to feel you, I want you to be a part of me. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m going to break and go slow. I want you to claim me, own me.”
Never one to turn down a woman who was begging him to own her, he set Meadow on her feet and ripped her pants and panties down her legs. “Next time we go the slow route because I want to touch and taste every inch of your beautiful body,” he murmured in her ear.
Desire heated her face and her cheeks turned pink. “I can’t wait.”
Picking her up again, he sat her on the edge of the dining room table, his fingers touching her, finding her more than ready for him, as she shoved his jeans and boxers down his legs. He pulled a condom from his pocket and quickly donned it, then gently pressed on her shoulders, laying her back so he could get better access without her beautiful pregnant stomach in the way. Abe nudged her legs further apart and stood between them.
Pushing a finger inside her he stroked her, teasing her, tempting her with what was coming, then added another, stretching her, preparing her. She moaned, and he could feel her quivering around his fingers, already so close. He wondered if she had ever had an orgasm before because if she hadn’t, she was about to get the shock of her life.
“Watch me, Meadow,” he ordered. “Don’t take your eyes off me, this is how it’s supposed to be, how it’s supposed to feel.”
Obediently, she propped herself up on her elbows and locked her eyes on his. She gasped as he entered her in one swift movement and he would have asked if he’d hurt her if he couldn’t see the pleasure written all over her pretty face.
He began to move, slowly at first, he was already hard and about to come, but he wanted to make sure that they hit that peak of bliss together.
“Faster, Abe, harder,” Meadow begged, her hips moving to meet each one of his thrusts.
He couldn’t say no to a lady, so he increased the speed, drawing back so he was almost out of her, then pushing back in until she took every inch of him inside her.
She was moaning, shaking, begging for more, and he could see she was teetering right on the edge. He reached between them and touched her, and she screamed his name, the clenching of her internal muscles as her orgasm hit was enough to make him come, and they rode the wave of pleasure together.
“Oh, my,” Meadow panted when she finally floated back down to earth. “That was … I don’t even have words.” Tears glistened in her eyes and she sat up, reaching for his hands. “Abe, that was … that was perfect. I’ve never done that before, thank you, thank you for making me feel like a real person, thank you for making me feel special and wanted.”
“It was no hardship, sunshine,” he drawled as he pulled out of her and tossed the condom in the bin in the corner. “Now we get to do things a little slower, and I get to taste every inch of this delectable body.”
He knelt between her legs, and when his tongue touched her, she quivered and moaned, and he knew that it was going to be a long time before they fell asleep in each other’s arms because there was so much he wanted to show her about how things should be.
* * * * *
8:57 P.M.
Disgusting.
Watching another man put his mouth on his wife’s most intimate area made him want to throw up.
John had never been so angry in his life.
Sure, he had an anger problem, but this was something else, he was literally seeing red, and he was shaking all over, his hands were curled into fists so tightly that his nails—trimmed short as they were—were digging into the flesh of his palms.
How dare he.
How dare she.
What had happened to his quiet, submissive Meadow, the woman who was too terrified to take a breath without his permission? All those years of training, only allowing her to go to the bathroom when he told her she could, eating what and when he allowed, beating out of her any fight she may have had, and in just a couple of days all of that had been undone.
Meadow was having an affair.
Okay, so he had deliberately targeted her, sensing the grating need inside her to be wanted, and lured her in, never intending to marry her, simply torture and then kill her like he had done with all the others, but then she’d cooked that meal for him, and before he knew it he had been proposing. The idea of keeping a live victim, ready and waiting for him whenever he wanted her, hadn’t occurred to him until he realized that Meadow could serve that purpose. And served her purpose she had. He’d thought she was the dutiful wife, but here she was having sex with a stranger and letting him put his mouth and his hands on her.
Even through the closed window, he could hear her moans and her scream as she came. She’d never done that with him, of course he had never given her anything to scream about, nothing pleasurable anyway, her pleasure hadn’t been important to him.
Nor was it important to him now.
He wanted her back because she belonged to him and he would never share her with any other man.
With a guttural growl rumbling low in his chest, he turned and slunk away. If he stayed here any longer, he would do something that would get him either killed or thrown in prison, and neither of those options sounded particularly pleasant.
For now, John knew where Meadow was, and that would have to be enough for the moment. If they decided to move her, he would follow her there too, but he didn’t intend to leave things that long. He was going to go back to the motel and then he was going to set up a diversion. As soon as the cops all went running off, leaving Meadow alone, he was going to get her.
Already he was vibrating with the need to punish her.
It was going to be so sweet, so delicious, he could hardly wait.
But he did have to wait.
Because waiting and planning meant things went according to plan. He hadn’t killed fifteen—now seventeen and soon to be eighteen—people over the last five years and got away with it because he made stupid, rash, spur of the moment decisions.
So back to the motel it was. Since he’d known that Meadow was tucked away at the police station where he couldn’t get to her, he had spent the day enjoying playing with his new toy. He didn’t know her name and he didn’t care to. She was serving a different purpose than the rest of the girls he had claimed, so he was okay with killing her now even if he had intended to keep her a little longer.
He’d thought it might be fun for Meadow to watch while he hurt the other woman, since his wife suddenly had such an urge to insert herself into his business he’d let her. Maybe he would take another woman
and let her watch as he raped her, as he beat her, as he did all the things to her he had done to Meadow. Then she’d see just how lucky she was that he had kept her alive.
She should be dead right now.
Buried in his backyard beneath a rose bush just like all the others.
Well just like part of the others.
Instead, Meadow was alive and for that she should be getting down on her knees and kissing his shoes in thanks, not taking advantage of his generosity and tattling on him to the cops and having sex with them.
Jumping the fence and walking through the yard of the house beside the one that Meadow and her sheriff were shacked up in, he continued jumping fences until he got to the last house on the block and ended up back on the street. River’s End was small, and it wasn’t late, there were people still out and about, but he wasn’t worried about anyone noticing him. He was good at being a shadow, while he lived his life in the public eye, taking on the most high profile cases he could, he hid the monster inside him because it was necessary for his survival. When the need dictated, he knew how to make himself invisible, and right now, he slinked through the streets to the car he had stolen earlier.
Although he wanted to speed, he stuck precisely to the speed limit as he headed back to the motel just outside of River’s End. It wasn’t as nice as the hotel where Meadow had been working the last couple of days, but this one had cabins that were separated from each other so he had a little privacy. No one had known he was there with Carla Briscoe so he had stayed here even after committing the two murders, although after tonight, he would have to find a new place to hide out.
That familiar tingle started inside him.
He loved that rush he got when he stole another person’s life. Something that wasn’t his to take, but that just made it all the sweeter.
Parking the car, he strode into the cabin. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out, the same thing he had said to Meadow every night when he returned home. Only then there would be a hot meal waiting on the table, a bath drawn and ready for him after he ate, and Meadow dressed in the outfit he had chosen for her that morning ready to offer her body to him for whatever purpose he chose.
This was different, there was no meal and no bath, but the girl he’d abducted jogging at the park was certainly waiting for him, her body ready for him to do with as he pleased. When he’d left to follow Meadow, he’d left the girl with a noose around her neck balanced precariously on her tiptoes, and he had been wondering the whole drive back whether she would still be alive when he returned.
From the way her body jerked at his voice, he knew she was still alive.
Perfect because he was looking forward to slitting her open and watching her blood flood from her body taking her life along with it.
“Miss me?” he asked, standing in front of the girl.
She trembled, and her terrified eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. She was gagged so she couldn’t give a verbal answer, but she refrained from a non-verbal one as well, having already learned there was no good answer to give when he asked a question.
Her fear spurring him on, he walked over to the desk where he had left his knife. This knife was special to him, he’d bought it when he was wooing Meadow, and he’d used it to kill every single one of his victims, including the old man he had stolen the car from yesterday. He’d also used it on Meadow more than once.
Now he took it over to where the girl was perched and pressed the blade against her neck, sliding it between her skin and the rope of the noose. Her eyes were wide and her nose flared as she dragged in a terrified breath, wondering whether he was about to slit her throat.
He wasn’t.
He had a much more fun way to end her life.
Cutting through the rope, he slung the girl over his shoulder, her ankles were tied together, as were her wrists. He hadn’t wanted a repeat of the whole Carla Briscoe fiasco so he’d made sure she was well and truly restrained before he’d left her alone.
Tossing her onto the bed he stood above her, enjoying his handiwork. The girl was naked, and a myriad of bruises, cuts, and bites marred her milky white flesh.
He loved that look on a woman.
Most men liked pretty dresses, sexy lingerie, or expensive jewelry on their women, but he liked to see the marks he had put there himself.
John cut the rope binding her ankles and spread her legs. She tried to fight him, but she was a tiny little thing, no match for his strength. Kneeling between her legs he smiled at her, watching her face as he shoved the blade of the knife inside her body.
February 8th
5:32 A.M.
Her naked body was warm against his, and Abe couldn’t sleep because he just wanted to keep looking at her.
She was beautiful.
The more he looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed to become. Her skin was like porcelain, her nose was delicate, her limbs were long and slim, her hips had just the right amount of curve, her breasts were small but round and firm and perfect, and the swell of her stomach took a part of him he’d thought was hard as concrete and started to soften it. Her plump lips were pale and the most kissable pair of lips he had ever seen, and her voice—particularly when it was moaning his name as he worked her higher and higher and closer toward orgasm—was melodious.
She was like an angel.
If he had to pick a woman to fall for it would certainly be this smart, sweet one lying in his arms.
Meadow shifted in her sleep, her bottom brushing against him since he was spooning her, and he debated waking her up for sex before he had to go into the station. He might have, but she really did need the sleep, and he shouldn’t disturb her no matter how sexy she looked tucked at his side.
Abe almost caved to the pressure when she wriggled again, but his phone rang, and he reached to grab it from the nightstand before it woke Meadow.
“What’s up?” he asked quietly as he pressed answer.
“We found her,” Fletcher told him.
His deputy didn’t have to elaborate for him to know the her he was referring to. Darlene Frindlebrook’s body had been found.
“Where?” he asked.
“The motel two miles east of town,” Fletcher replied.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Abe hung up and tried to ease his arm out from underneath Meadow without waking her, but she stirred and yawned, lifting her head to look at him.
“Abe?” she asked, her voice laden with sleep.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered, touching a quick kiss to her lips. He wished he had time for more, but he had work to do, and if he wanted more nights like last night with Meadow, he needed to find her husband. He’d thought he might have regrets, or feel bad, having slept with a married woman. She’d come on his tongue, on his fingers, and with him inside her twice, but he didn’t feel guilt. Meadow was married in name only, that marriage had never been real, it had been just a way for John Smith to keep a victim around for whenever he wanted someone to hurt.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, waking up further and shuffling up so she was sitting.
There was no point in lying to her, this case was personal to her since she was at the center of it. “There’s been another murder.”
“Oh,” she said softly, and he could see her curling in on herself even though she hadn’t moved a millimeter. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling right now, knowing that her husband was killing people because of her, but he knew how he was feeling, and that was terror that John would get his hands on her, and a desire to wipe away all her pain and make everything better.
“Hey,” he said, pulling her over so she was sitting in his lap. “I will find him, and I will make sure he pays for his crimes. And tonight I’m going to take you out for a romantic dinner, and if there’s enough snow out we’ll make snowmen, and snow angels, and build a snow fort, and anything else you want to do before I bring you in here and have dessert.”
She shivered in his arms and shot him one of those w
inning smiles. “I can’t wait. And be safe, Abe, please. John is dangerous, more dangerous than you know. Please don’t let him hurt you, okay? I need you. We need you,” she added, resting a hand on her stomach.
His hand joined hers. Being with Meadow wasn’t like just dating a woman, she had a baby on the way, so being with her meant getting an instant family. For some reason that didn’t scare him as much as he thought it should. “Nothing will stop me from coming home to you two, okay?”
“Ok—oh,” she said her eyes flying to his. “Did you feel that?”
“I did.” He grinned. “Your baby just kicked.” He’d never felt that before, he hadn’t even known Talia was pregnant until she had already lost the baby, and he didn’t have any nieces or nephews, so he’d never been around pregnant women before now.
“That’s the first time I’ve felt it do that. It wants you to know how important it is you come home to us too,” she said seriously, although the joy at feeling her baby move still shone from her eyes.
“Meadow, you and your baby, you’re my number one priority right now, I’m coming home to you,” he assured her.
“Our baby,” she corrected. “If you want me you get both of us.”
“I want both of you,” he promised, kissing her so she could feel it as well as hear the words. He wasn’t ready to even contemplate the ‘L’ word yet, but he knew that Meadow and the baby featured quite prominently in his future.
“Good, because we want you too,” she said, nuzzling his neck.
Abe groaned. “I wish I had time to make out a little, but I have to go. You should be safe here, you checked out clear when Levi looked for a tracking device yesterday, and you’re not wearing the same clothes you were when you left, so there’s no reason to believe that he knows you’re here.”
“What about my job?” she asked.
“I spoke with Maggie, she knows your situation. The job is still there for you when this is all over.”
