Possessed

by Stacy-Deanne

  “Did you want to teach her a lesson for rejecting you, CeCe?” Connie blocked him. “Did you kill her?”

  “Nice try, Connie.” A seductive smile covered his lips. “I was nowhere near The B-District that night. I was at my aunt’s place. We watched the Saw marathon. I was there all night.” He slithered between them, heading for the door. “I got to get back to work.”

  Connie pointed at him. “This isn’t over, CeCe.”

  He blew her a kiss and left.

  Connie sat, huffing. “Cocky son of a bitch.”

  Dee pressed her butt against the table. “You think he killed Lang?”

  “I think he killed Lang, Jeanette and Jessica Jacobs.”

  ****

  Lydia awoke in a lavish bedroom on a king-sized bed covered in a quilted spread with golden roses scattered throughout the material.

  She widened her heavy eyelids and struggled to rise but her head felt as though it weighed a million pounds. “Ooh.” She pressed her temples, focusing on the ivory walls and stunning oak furniture.

  She couldn’t remember beyond fighting with Lucian as he forced her onto a jet.

  “God.” She eased off the bed and stumbled to the door, her sneakers squeaking on the marble floor. “Help!” She beat the door. “Let me out of here!” She yanked the gold knob. “Help me, please!”

  She ran to the gold-trimmed windows to find them bolted shut. “Shit.” She stared upon a humongous garden of lush bushes and flowers of every color.

  For a moment, Lydia lost herself in the small valleys and hills of emerald grass in the distance.

  She shook her head, breaking her trance from the dazzling foliage and fragrance of spicy and smoky flowers so powerful it came through the walls.

  The door opened.

  Lydia snatched the cordless lamp off the end table and held it above her head.

  Lucian stepped in with a key in his hand. “Lydia.”

  “Ah!” She threw the lamp at him and ran.

  Lucian grabbed her as she passed, clamping his arms on her waist. “Listen—”

  “No!” She punched his solid chest. “Get off me.” She dug her fingernails into his cheek.

  “Ow!” He let her go, clutching his face.

  Lydia ran into the hall of polished wood and sparkling crystal.

  Lucian caught her. “Listen.”

  “Let me go!” She kicked as he carried her back into the bedroom. “No, no!” She swerved around in his strong arms, beating his chest with her frail punches. “Just let me leave. Why can’t you let me leave?”

  “Lydia.”

  “No.” She pushed him and grabbed the Louis XIII chair by the fireplace. “Come near me and I’ll beat you with it.”

  “Come on.” He leaned over, clutching his knees and coughing. “You’re making this worse than it is.”

  “Where am I?”

  He flinched, standing straight.

  “Why are you doing this?” She swayed the chair. “Is this about Cam?”

  He squinted. “Why would this be about your boyfriend?”

  “Cam and I are archeologists.” She panted. “We’ve found rare jewels and statues. Stuff ruthless, bad people want.”

  “Lydia—”

  “Is this what this is about? Did Cam take something from whoever wants me here?”

  “This has nothing to do with your boyfriend.”

  “We’re not in the states. I’ve traveled all over the world. I can tell.”

  “This is Wales. Red Marrow to be exact.”

  “Wales.” Lydia dropped the chair and snapped her fingers, thinking. “Who would Cam know in Wales?”

  “It’s not about him.”

  “Then why the fuck am I here?”

  The door opened and a young woman with yellowish-green eyes and her dirty-blonde hair bound in a braid, entered. “Is everything okay?”

  Lydia watched her every move. “Who are you?”

  “Are you okay?” the woman asked.

  “Just peachy.” Lydia scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Lucian shook his head.

  “Why the fuck am I in Wales?”

  “For happiness.” The woman watched Lydia with an aloof gaze. “To experience everlasting love and peace.”

  “What the fuck?” Lydia pointed at her, grimacing at Lucian. “Is she on something?”

  The woman frowned. “You should be grateful he wants you so much.”

  “Who wants me?” Lydia gestured to the scar on the woman’s neck. “You’re that girl that was almost killed. Candra Martel.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” She beamed. “Jonathan’s been waiting.”

  “Jonathan?” Lydia fell back on the bed as butterflies circled in her gut. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Candra spread her arms wide. “Welcome to Jonathan’s Palace. He’ll make your dreams come true.”

  Lydia’s knees shook. “Jonathan’s dead,” she whispered.

  “Not really.” Candra giggled, locking her arms behind her back. “Who else would’ve thought of such a plan?”

  “No.” Lydia ran to Lucian, grabbing his shirt. “She’s crazy, right? This bitch is crazy. Jonathan’s dead. Lucian?”

  He stood stiff as a brick with a vacant stare.

  “Oh my god.” Lydia covered her mouth. “He’s alive? Jonathan’s alive?”

  “Yes and he wants you.” Candra pouted. “You should be proud.”

  “Lucian, you gotta get me out of here.” Lydia shook him. “Jonathan’s crazy.”

  He patted her arms. “It’ll be all right.”

  “Lucian, there’s good in you. I see it. You can’t let this happen.”

  He caressed her hands as he pulled them from his shirt. “It’s done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Open this door,” Lydia screamed from the bedroom. “Lucian!”

  “She’s upset.” Jonathan listened from the parlor at the end of the hall. “I expected that.” He got vodka out the glossy black liquor cabinet. “You want one? It’ll help you relax.”

  “We can’t do this.” Lucian sat on the black, suede couch. “This is wrong.”

  “Why are you so uptight?” Jonathan relaxed in the high-backed chair in front of the abstract portrait. “You did your part and I’m grateful.”

  “You promise you’re gonna let Lydia go once Dee gets here?”

  Jonathan shook the liquor around in his glass.

  “Candra said you wanted Lydia. What did she mean by that?”

  “Why are you so concerned?” A gleam of deviltry hit Jonathan’s eyes. “You’ve already gotten attached to her?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Lydia has nothing to do with this, and I want to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.”

  “I promise I’ll let her go once I have Deidra.” Jonathan slurped vodka. “Stay.”

  “Stay?”

  “Yeah, stay here in Wales. You could have a wonderful life here.”

  “Baltimore is my home and what about my dad?”

  “Your dad is cured because of me.” Jonathan lifted his glass. “He’s living his own life. You should try it some time.”

  “I can’t just pick up and leave the states.”

  “Why not? You don’t have a wife, you don’t have kids. What’s in Baltimore? A crappy job where you risk your life for crappy pay?”

  “I’m proud of what I do.” Lucian stretched out his leg. “At least I used to be.”

  “Come here.” Jonathan beckoned for Lucian to follow him to the window. “What do you see?”

  “Nature.” Lucian sniffed. “Land and beauty.”

  “And peace. You always said you wished you had my life.” He put his arm around Lucian’s shoulders. “You could have everything you want here. Women, money. Lucian?” Jonathan took Lucian’s hand in a firm grip. “I want you to be in The Circle.”

  He turned from the window.

  “You belong here with us and don’t forget you’ve done some terrible things back hom
e. If people ever find out, it wouldn’t be pretty. You’d go to prison.”

  Lucian exhaled, nose wrinkling.

  “What would you rather have?” Jonathan finished his vodka. “Freedom with us or prison at home? Besides, don’t you like Lydia?”

  “Let me out of here,” Lydia shrieked. “Let me go!”

  Lucian sighed, glancing at the parlor doorway.

  “You like Lydia.” Jonathan swaggered to the liquor cabinet for a second drink. “No telling what could happen between you if you stayed.”

  Lucian cracked a crooked smirk.

  ****

  Lydia gasped, jerking up in the bed as the door opened.

  Jonathan paraded in, lust flashing in his eyes. “Hello.” He exhaled, stuffing the key into his black slacks. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise?”

  Tears hung from her bottom eyelids. “Let me go.”

  He moaned, hooking his hands together. “That would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”

  She folded her legs. “Why are you doing this?”

  “The same reason I do everything.” He got the small plant of white flowers off the stand in the corner. “This flower is Jasmine.” He spun the little flowerpot in his hand. “It calms anxiety and helps you sleep. I hoped it would relax you.”

  “You faked your death?” She shook her head. “How fucked up do you have to be to do something like that?”

  “Lydia. Such language is beneath you.”

  “What’s your plan? To swap me out for Dee?”

  He sat on the bed. “Stay.”

  “Kiss my ass and let me out.” She ran to the door.

  “Lydia?” Jonathan pulled a silver Glock 19 out his pocket. “I’ll hurt you if you make me.”

  She faced him, shivering against the door. “Stay away from my sister.”

  “Nah.” He rose. “She’s coming home thanks to you.”

  “I won’t let you hurt her again.”

  He walked up to her. “I only want to make Deidra happy.”

  “She is happy.” Her nostrils tickled from his peppery cologne. “She’s having a baby with the man she’s loved more than anyone and you can’t stop that, Jonathan.”

  “I have my ways of making Deidra see what I want her to see.” He pressed against her, laying his hand on the door beside her as an erotic glow filled his eyes.

  She tossed her head in the opposite direction. “Get away from me.”

  “Remember when we first met?” He stroked her hair.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “In the garden? Ooh.” He closed his eyes, tucking his bottom lip into his teeth. “I wanted you so much. It took everything in my power not to take you.”

  She shook from fury more than fear. “It’ll never happen.”

  “My attraction for you didn’t just start that day.” He touched her shoulder. “It grew from all the stories Deidra told me and from then I had to have you.”

  “You’ll never have me or my sister.” She spit in his face, spraying the tip of his nose.

  “You’ll warm up because you’ll have no choice.” He smiled, wiping her spit off his nostrils. “I make the rules. Now I could...” He pushed the gun into her bosom. “Forget about being a gentleman and do whatever I want.”

  She stiffened. “Don’t.”

  “It’s my world, Lydia.” He sniffed her neck. “It’s my home, my land, and my game.” With one yank, he ripped her fuchsia blouse open, sending buttons flying.

  “No!” Lydia tried to cover her chest.

  He snatched her hand away and ogled her lacey white bra. “I control everything around here. Do you get it?” He seized her waist, holding him to her. “I can do anything I want. Anything.” He kissed her neck, fondling her buttocks through her denim shorts.

  “Stop!” She wiggled. “You bastard. Get off me.”

  “I can have anything I want including you.” He let her go.

  “I hate you.” She sniffled, pulling her blouse onto her shoulders.

  “Don’t cry.” He kissed the tears off her cheek. “Deidra and I will have a great life together.” He sauntered backward, smiling. “You can too.”

  She turned away, cringing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Aunt Rosalie?” CeCe entered Rosalie’s two-story brick home that night with snacks for their Netflix binge. “Where are you?” He walked through the walnut panel floor and into the den. “Auntie?”

  Rosalie sat on the beige and white sofa with her arms crossed, watching Sons of Anarchy.

  “Hey, you’ve started already?” He set the sack of food on the console table, grinning. “You’re supposed to wait for me, remember?”

  She tucked in her lips.

  “Auntie, what’s wrong?” He sat on the cushioned footstool by the recliner.

  “Why did you tell Quarter and Wilks you were with me when Lang Latimer was murdered?” She clutched the remote. “When you weren’t?”

  CeCe rubbed the spot below his nose.

  “Huh?” She crooked her head to him, worry lines filling her face. “Why did you lie to the police? Where were you that night, CeCe?”

  He rocked forward, rubbing his hands. “What do you mean?”

  “Where were you?” She slammed the remote on the table. “You damn sure weren’t with me.”

  “I was at home.” He sat back, propping his leg on his thigh. “They won’t believe me because of Jeanette Dobbins. I have no one to vouch for me.”

  “You live in an apartment full of people with plenty of witnesses if you’re telling the truth.” Rosalie swept her hands over her face. “I’ll always love you no matter what but be honest with me.”

  “Fuckin’ say it.” He rose. “You think I killed Lang don’t you?” He knocked the plant off the stand on his way to the window. “You’re letting Connie and Quarter get into your head!”

  “It’s not about anyone else,” she hollered. “This is about you, CeCe. We’re talking about you and I want the truth.”

  “I was home!” He turned from the window, pointing at her. “That’s the last time I’m gonna say it.”

  “What about Jeanette?”

  “Fuck this and fuck you.” He raced past her and she grabbed his arm. “Let me go.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Auntie,” he whispered with pain etched in his voice. “Are you saying you believe I killed Jeanette and Lang?”

  “God, I wish I wasn’t.” She burst into tears, a harsh shriek escaping her. “I was too concerned about how things looked than the bigger picture.”

  He spoke through clenched teeth, “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about this pain inside me.” She fell to her knees, her face torn with sorrow. “This excruciating feeling that won’t go away no matter what I do. I realized it was guilt.” She looked up at him, tears drifting in waves. “I wanted so much to believe you about Jeanette.” She hit the floor with her fist. “I kept telling myself there was no way you could hurt her but in the back of my mind...” Her sobs disrupted her words. “I knew you did it.”

  He moaned, pacing until he got to the wall.

  Rosalie cried, coughing and jerking. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you CeCe, but I can’t live with this guilt anymore.” She got off the floor. “I need to hear it from your lips. You owe me that.”

  “I owe you?” He charged her. “This is your fault.”

  “What?”

  “You knew.” Tears filled his eyes. “People told you I was more than strange. Teachers, therapists, doctors and you did shit about it.” He pointed at her, his hand quaking in the same way it did when he got that urge. “I was just a child. You could’ve fixed things before I lost control but you didn’t care.”

  She covered her mouth, yelping.

  “The beast is out and I can’t put him back in.”

  “Why?” She grabbed him. “Why did you do this?” She slapped him on both sides of his face. “I love you, boy!” She shoved him, gripping her h
ead. “Oh, God. No. No!”

  CeCe sat on the couch, rocking.

  “How many?” She blinked through tears. “How many women have you killed?”

  “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “How many?” she yelled.

  “It doesn’t matter.” He caressed his knuckles. “Things just escalated. I didn’t plan it.”

  “How many?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does! How many families are out their grieving because of what you did?”

  “I didn’t intend to kill Jeanette. She pretended she was into me and lured me to her place and dumped me. We fought and something took control and my hands were around her throat.”

  She covered her mouth, groaning.

  “After then, I liked it.” His crotch hardened, a sensual ache flooding his legs. “Killing felt good. It fed the urge—”

  “You’re a monster!” She smacked him in the nose. “How could you do this? I put my life aside to raise you and this is what you do?”

  “It’s all about you, huh?” He stood, panting. “You only took me in for the checks.”

  “I was the only one who stepped up when my sister ran out on you. Is that why you turned out this way? You can’t handle rejection from women because of your mother?”

  “Shut up.” He yanked her neck with both hands.

  “CeCe!” She pushed against him but didn’t have half his strength. “Let go.” A deep red color saturated her face. “I can’t breathe.”

  “I’m sick of your nagging.” He swung her around, holding his grip. “This is your fault.”

  “CeCe!” She coughed. “I can’t breathe.”

  He threw her on the couch, tightening his grasp. “You killed those women, not me.” Sweat shook from his face and his hands ached from compression. “You did it!” He shook her neck. “You did it!”

  After a few minutes of gurgling and drooling, Rosalie went limp.

  “Auntie?”

  Her head fell to the side, vacant eyes wide and still.

  “No.” CeCe slapped his hands over his mouth, wailing. “No.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Dee awoke in the wee hours of the morning and grabbed her buzzing phone from Winston’s nightstand.