by Stone, Mary
“Richmond, Virginia, then on to Louisville, Kentucky.”
“That’s where I’m going.” Giving his arm a squeeze, she lowered her eyelids, pleading, “Can you take me with you?”
And just like that, the beautiful Katarina sat beside him, and he’d been so immediately taken with her that he’d given her his real name.
“Well, Matt Loomis,” she said breathlessly. “I’m so grateful you were here to save me.”
Little did she know that she’d be saving him too.
The winding stretch of Highway 41 north of Charleston wasn’t very populated during the week, though she could’ve walked to Huger for assistance if she’d been desperate. Even with the early May heat, the dense forest lining either side of the highway provided ample shade.
But women like Katarina didn’t seek out help. They let help come to them. Now, she sat in his passenger seat, and had been chatting for the last five minutes or so as if they were old friends. She talked about the business she was in, and though she didn’t outright say it, there was no question that she was a hooker.
Probably an escort. High priced escort, by the looks of her. He imagined she was paid a pretty penny to spread those sexy legs.
Would she expect payment from him? He smiled at the thought. He’d pay her well. He’d release her from this vile world. She’d been fortunate that it was him who’d stopped by her broken down vehicle.
Lucky didn’t usually play Good Samaritan to these types of things. A disabled car left on the side of the road alerted authorities. They left clues. Lucky didn’t like clues. But he liked this beauty and hadn’t been able to resist her.
It would be okay, he knew. He would be careful. Very careful. Besides, he had no intention of dumping his guest in the Carolinas, where she could be easily connected to the abandoned car.
Though Katarina had only been in his truck a short while, he already had a spot in mind for her. A spot where she’d never be found.
Gorgeous as she was, she was more fit for a resting place in the picturesque Blue Ridge Mountains than his typical dumping ground. A woman as fine as Katarina deserved to be surrounded by beauty as her body withered away until only bones picked clean by scavengers were left to mark her passing.
He snuck a peek at the woman, admiring her from head to toe. She’d slipped her shoes off, nails on her perfect feet painted to match her red lipstick. Anticipation of what was to come had his heart racing, but Katarina appeared to be oblivious, completely relaxed in the seat beside him. With no idea what the day held in store for her.
“What about you, Matt.”
Her sudden interest in talking about him instead of herself startled Lucky out of his revelry. “What about me?”
“Is driving a truck your endgame?”
He shifted in his seat to relieve some of the pressure in his pants, flashing her a grin. “I get great benefits and I can afford to spoil myself, so yeah, this is a sweet gig. I’m my own boss, I set my own hours, and own my truck. No one to answer to, and no one to tell me how I can spend my money. It’s worked for me for over a decade.”
His mother’s face rose up in front of him, and he mentally blinked it away. She was dead, and he’d never listened to the bitch anyway. Not when she’d wanted him to wear the choking tie to school, not when she’d told him to let his sister watch what she wanted on TV. She’d tried to rule the roost, both of the females in his life had, but that was a man’s place.
“Doesn’t that get lonely?” She dragged her fingers over his zipper, a dreamy look on her face. “A man has certain needs, Matt.”
At the mention of his needs, his thoughts turned back to his plans. Once he found a secluded place to pull over, he would tie her up and gag her, then stuff her in the sleeper cab of his rig and lock the door. He never worried about interruptions, since passing motorists were used to truckers pulled off the road to rest.
He’d learned long ago that no one bothered him as long as he moved on within a few hours. They drove past without slowing, giving him ample time to stretch the torture out, savoring every moment to the fullest. With Katarina, he would leave no inch untouched, starting with her beautiful feet.
He reminded himself to answer her question, winking to cover his long silence, hoping it hadn’t made her uneasy. “I do have needs.”
Mind wandering back to the daydream she’d interrupted, he kept going back to her bare feet. Lucky didn’t have a foot fetish, but like the rest of her body, Katarina’s feet were exquisite. His chest tightened at the thought of breaking each delicate toe, one at a time.
With his spacious bunk hidden by a sliding door behind the seats, he could keep her tied up for days. Driving from one delivery to the next, he would stop to fulfill his need when it came, inflicting pain until he’d had enough of her sweetness. Then, he would find a quiet place to finish the job.
Her moans would be muffled behind a gag, so no one would hear her scream, but the pain on her face would be loud and clear. Every breath she took would be agony, until her final exhalation. Then, there would be nothing but the relief of death.
It was the ultimate gift.
Sitting beside her, he would hold her hand until the light faded from her eyes. He wanted to be the last thing she saw, to let her know he appreciated the gift she was giving him and letting her know how her essence would make him even greater. After, he would remove the gag, the ropes, and walk away more powerful than before.
Only once had he ever abandoned the final show while a woman still held a spark of light in her eyes, and he’d regretted that terrible mistake for twelve long years. She’d been a pretty little thing, and he’d noticed her before. That was the key. Get them to trust you first. Then, their surprise only made the end result even sweeter.
But that night so long ago, little Charity had seemed ripe for the taking. When he’d overheard her phone call with her mother, it was as if the stars had aligned. She’d seemed so perfect. So…right.
What he hadn’t expected was the assault of memories to overtake him. He hadn’t even considered that her conversation with her mother would make him think about conversations with his.
But it had.
As he’d driven one mile after the next, thoughts of home had been like punches to the gut. He’d gone overboard, which he’d had always been very careful not to do. It ruined the finale.
It had been so perfect, and little Charity had fallen asleep with only a few sips of the drug he’d planted in her water. It had given him enough time to get deep in the desert, far enough from anyone else that he should have had hours of hours of exquisite pleasure.
Instead, his mother’s voice had nagged through his mind and thoughts of home and the past had interfered with his present. It wasn’t even his fault. He’d simply reacted. He’d picked up a rock, then he was hitting and hitting and hitting and hitting…
It was the loud bark of thunder that had saved him. If it hadn’t been for Mother Nature’s warning, he would have stayed in that gully, hitting instead of enjoying his kill. He would have been washed away by the sudden deluge of rain that had appeared like a ghost.
The universe had protected him. As always. Once he’d been out of immediate danger, he stood as close to the edge of the ditch as he dared, gaze fixed on his prey until the strong current dragged her downstream.
Watching the raven-haired, green-eyed beauty choking on the water before being swept away by the sudden flood had been glorious but unfulfilling. Had he known the storm was coming and that his quarry had wandered into a deep dry wash to relieve herself, he would’ve waited to kill her.
She’d been unaware of the sedative in the bottled water he’d given her, so disoriented that she hadn’t even noticed they’d passed through El Centro, crossed into Arizona, and stopped somewhere between Gila Bend and Phoenix. Groggy and confused, she’d never managed to put two and two together.
He’d let thoughts of his mother and a past that were long dead get the better of him, and they had cheated him o
f the joy of watching little Charity die.
“You’re such a handsome man. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Lucky blinked, forcing himself back to the present. He chuckled, full to bursting with happiness that he could daydream about one beauty while another sat unsuspecting in the passenger’s seat. He would make up for Charity with this one.
“Not to burst your bubble, but I don’t spend a lot of time alone. You’re not the only one doing what you do.”
He’d expected her to pout. In fact, he’d chosen his words carefully in the hopes of getting a rise out of her.
But she was unfazed. “I bet you can afford to have a lot of things men want. A woman to warm your bed. Women to keep you satisfied at night. The world is yours for the taking, right?”
“Yes.”
Women. If only Katarina knew how close to the truth she was.
Women were the source of his power.
But before their power could become his, he had to transfer their life force into himself.
With each kill, Lucky adapted, adjusting his methods like the skilled hunter he was. None had been perfect, but he’d persisted, certain every woman the universe sent to slake his need was proof he was on the right path. They made him smarter and stronger, despite being complete failures in their own lives.
He cherished every one of them, for even a dirty whore had something to give the world. Each woman was Lucky’s gift from the universe, and once he’d felt the power bleed into the depths of his very soul, he was hooked.
But this woman was more than just a whore. There was an air about her that commanded respect and oozed class. She was nothing like his typical prey, and he intended to savor her. Truck stop bunnies weren’t worth a dime a dozen. Yes, they’d served their purpose over the years, but the universe had spoken. His latest find was the start of a new phase.
After this, Lucky wouldn’t waste his life’s blood on anything less than he deserved. He’d set his standards higher, and in return, he’d be elevated to something greater than a mere mortal. Katarina’s appearance proved that. Even the sound of her name held untold power. Katarina.
“What a powerful feeling.” Katarina spoke the words with conviction, as if she’d plucked his thoughts from the air and breathed life into them.
They were connected, destined for each other. Picking her up had been the right thing to do.
“It is.” He swallowed hard as her hand settled over the growing bulge in his pants. At this rate, he wouldn’t make it to the North Carolina state line. “A woman needs money to build her empire. I can give you that money, for certain services. Is that something you would like?”
All but purring her agreement, she slid closer to him, lust in her eyes. “You’re right, I do need money, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do to get what I want.”
Every word she spoke just confirmed for Lucky that she was another gift from the universe, a little nod in his direction. Despite his risky hobby, he’d never been caught, and when the urge to kill grew within him again, another perfect specimen always appeared as if created exclusively for him.
There was no tortuous wait like he’d suffered before his first kill. The universe was ready and waiting, handing over exactly what he needed without question. Proof that he embodied the nickname inscribed on the side of his truck inside a four-leaf clover.
Lucky.
“Like I said, you’re smart.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Matt. In fact, I think you’ll be my first product.”
“Product?” He laughed. “Don’t you mean client?”
Her giggle was like rain on a hot summer day washing over him. The joy on her face was pure light, and every breath she took pushed him closer to the edge of reason. He wanted her now, but she was like fine wine—not to be gulped down all at once. No, he needed her completely at ease. The game he played was always more fun when the first blow blindsided.
He’d honed his craft over the years, building his victims’ trust before stoking their fear until they were in a frenzy to escape. Careful never to hurt them too much…at first. The game made snuffing the light out of them more exciting, and he lasted longer between kills. Age had made him more patient, and far more cruel.
A few weeks shy of his forty-first birthday, he’d already been killing more than half his life. Over forty beauties had transferred their life force into him. They were all unremarkable, unimportant, and wholly undeserving of the merciful end he’d given them. Clinging to their miserable lives with iron grips, they hadn’t realized the freedom death would bring. Because of Lucky, they’d learned.
They were given to Lucky to be shaped by his hands, but he knew it was he who was the true gift. Few could recognize the hopelessness floating just beneath the surface, and even fewer still had the balls to do something about the despair gripping these wretched creatures who sullied the earth, spreading disease and poverty everywhere they went. They were the monsters.
Lucky was an angel of mercy.
A glint of light hit his sideview mirror, grabbing his attention from the powerful beauty sitting beside him. Light reflected from the windshield of a car that had come up behind them and was moving over the solid double stripe between the lanes so it could pass.
Lucky scanned the horizon to make sure the way was clear ahead. Usually, he toyed with morons who passed in a no-passing zone, but he was already occupied with something more important. There was no way he would waste time dealing with an accident today.
He took his foot off the accelerator, allowing the other driver time to pass before they reached the next blind turn. Traffic was sporadic, but it would only take one surprised motorist heading this way for disaster to strike. He cast a glance at Katarina, but she was fussing with her nails, completely oblivious to the idiot in the other vehicle.
When the car was even with his window, he blinked, surprised to see a cherry red Altima linger for a moment before flying past. The damn thing seemed to be toying with him, the brake lights winking as it sped ahead.
He shot a glance at Katarina, motioning to the car that was quickly pulling away. “Isn’t that your car?”
She didn’t even look up from her nails as she shrugged. “There are so many red cars.”
Lucky scowled, anger replacing some of his excitement. “A red Nissan Altima?”
“No clue.” She twisted a strand of dark hair around her finger, cherry red lips as bright as the car flying down the highway ahead of them now.
Sure she was lying, he decided he didn’t care. It didn’t matter why she was hitchhiking on the long, empty stretch of Highway 41. She was here now, and if she’d had someone drop her off so she could get a fresh start, that was none of his business.
Of course, this all could be a setup. Someone could had hidden in the car with plans to ambush him. If that happened, he would take care of that and go back to his original plan. Maybe even bring the friend along, if it was another woman, though Katarina would remain his primary focus.
The car was so far ahead now, Lucky could barely make it out in the distance. It disappeared around a sharp curve, and he let out the breath that was growing sour in his lungs. He shook any lingering thoughts of the red car out of his mind and focused back on the beautiful woman by his side. He had so many plans.
Katarina shifted in the seat beside him, drawing his attention even more. Keeping one eye on the road, he gazed at her. She was watching him, her lower lip caught between her teeth. So seductive. So certain in the power she thought she wielded over him. Heat grew within him until his jeans were impossibly tight over his groin. There was no way she didn’t realize how sexy she was, but somehow, she managed to exude sensuality and innocence all at once. She was downright intoxicating.
Running her delicate fingers through her hair. Folding her right arm against the window to rest her head on. She pursed her lips, blushing prettily when she caught him staring.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her with his signature slow wink. “But I�
��m sure you’ve heard that a lot.”
“Not as much as you’d think.” She laughed, pulling her knees up so she sat cross-legged in the generously wide leather seat. Her long brown hair fell in tousled waves over her shoulders, blue eyes sparkling as she teased him. Their easy banter made the miles fly by, and Lucky was happy for her company, even if it wasn’t going to last long.
Katarina.
The name fit her. She was exotic, with model-perfect features that had him glancing in her direction every few minutes. Every time their eyes met, she winked at him and made a soft giggling sound that went straight to his groin.
She was flirting hardcore, copying the way he winked to put women at ease, and Lucky knew the next few hours—between Huger, South Carolina and Richmond, Virginia—would fly by. But if she kept flirting that way, he would have to find somewhere to pull over a lot sooner.
“How long have you been a trucker?”
Lucky blinked, dragging his thoughts away from future plans and back into the moment.
At some point while he was lost in thought, she’d turned, back against the door, long legs folded neatly under her with her knees to one side.
“I started hauling hay and livestock when I was sixteen. Got my CDL at twenty-one and bought my first rig the next day. Been driving ever since.”
Katarina perked up a little, shifting in her seat as she leaned in. “Pretty ambitious for such a young man. Where did you get the money? Aren’t they like, over a hundred grand?”
“My mother had an accident with a hay baler.” An accident, he scoffed inwardly. The raging alcoholic had deserved it, and Lucky had been happy to bury his mother in their family plot. “Not long after, my sister took off. I sold the farm and invested in myself.”
New grass had only just broken through the surface of the dirt piled on his mother’s grave when his little sister went missing. He’d hid her a little too well, and she was listed as a missing person to this day.
Katarina didn’t recoil or offer platitudes. Nodding, she admired the spacious cab with a keen eye. “It looks like your investment paid off. This is a nice rig.”
