15 Targeted (5 page)

Come on, Emily, who’s going to believe you? Twenty people saw you coming on to me, practically dragging me back to my dorm room. You wanted it—you were
hot
for it.

And she had been too—right up until the point where he started trying to fit himself inside her. Then the waves of heat and lust she’d been feeling, the urgent need to have a man inside her, had abruptly departed, leaving only a sense of wrongness so deep it seemed to sear her very soul. It wasn’t guilt either—her parents had been strict but it wasn’t like they preached complete abstinence. Though her mother
had
hinted delicately that it was better to wait until marriage when she had “the talk” with Emily at age twelve. No, it was something else—something almost biological. A feeling of revulsion and sick depravity had swamped her, making her feel like she’d somehow been tricked into an act of bestiality rather than having sex with a man.

What was it about Grayson that triggered such a strong and horrible reaction inside her? Emily didn’t know but she couldn’t fight it. All she knew was that she had to get away—get out from under him. She had a desperate realization that she couldn’t let this happen—it had to stop
now.
At that moment she began to struggle beneath him, trying to push him away rather than pull her towards him.

Grayson had had several beers that night—they both had—but Emily had no doubt he knew what he was doing. When she tried to fight, he held her down and when she started to scream and beg, he put a thick, meaty palm over her mouth, pressing down so hard her teeth cut into her lips and she tasted blood.

“
Shut up you little cunt.”
His breath had been heavy with stale beer fumes.
“You want it! You know you want it and I’m going to give it to you…”

Emily cut off the memory then—shoving it away with an almost physical effort of will as she pulled into her own driveway which was screened by a row of large Mexican Breadfruit bushes. She lived in a small one bedroom bungalow at the unfashionable end of Old Carrollwood—the only place she could afford near her school on a teacher’s salary. In fact, she’d just closed on the little house a few months before, which was a shame since it now seemed she was going to have to leave it and get the hell away from George Washington Elementary and everyone in it for the rest of her natural life.

Hell no—we’re not going anywhere,
whispered a voice in her brain.
GWE is our school—why should we leave it to that raping bastard?

Was it the voice of the
other
? If so this was the first time she’d spoken up. The
other
had always been a silent, ominous presence located somewhere in the back of her mind. Now, it seemed, she was coming forward at will and even talking—at least inside Emily’s head.

Emily pulled the key from her ignition and ran a trembling hand through her hair. The fact that the
other
now had a voice and a personality was even more reason to get the hell out of Dodge as far as she was concerned. But forget her grandfather’s cabin in the mountains—maybe she ought to check herself directly into the local insane asylum.

“Well, wherever I go, I’ve got to get away,” she said aloud in a shaky voice. “Screw getting sick leave—I’ve got to get out of here!” There was no way she could face Richard Grayson again—no way in Hell.

She fumbled open her car door and got out clumsily, wobbling on legs that didn’t want to hold her up. God, was she actually
faint
now? What was wrong with her? Was it just the stress of confronting the man who had done such a horrible thing to her so many years ago? Or was it the
other
coming forward, trying to take control of her body? Already she could feel the heat waves burning outward from her center, swamping her in a dizzying rush of emotions too complicated to explain or ignore.

“Please,” she whispered, leaning against the side of her little blue bug and putting a hand over her eyes. “Please, just go away and leave me alone. Please just let me be.”

“Talking to yourself again, Emily?”

The horribly familiar voice made her jump and open her eyes. She felt her stomach sink with a sickening lurch when she saw Grayson striding across the lawn to her.

“You followed me
home?”
Emily couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. “What the hell is
wrong
with you? Get back or I’ll…I’ll…” She fumbled in her purse, trying to find either her cell phone or the small canister of mace she kept in case of attack. Neither one came to her shaking fingers, however. Instead she grabbed the first pointed thing she could find—which turned out to be a red ball point pen.

“Or you’ll what—give me an F?
Write
me to death?” The contemptuous laughter in Grayson’s voice was almost too much to bear.

“What do you want? How dare you come to my house?” Emily whispered. She still gripped the pen like a knife even though she felt foolish doing it. It was the only weapon she had and she’d be damned if she let it drop.

“I just wanted to talk—we never finished our conversation.” Grayson sounded completely reasonable but there was a gleam in his light blue eyes that Emily didn’t trust. Not at all.

“Say what you want and get out then,” she said, hearing a touch of the
other
in her voice again. “I don’t want you at my house—this is an invasion of privacy.”

“No, this is me making a deal—a deal I think you’re going to want to take.” His eyes still gleamed as he took another step forward.

Emily wished desperately that she had any hope of someone seeing what was going on. But the yards were unusually large in Old Carrollwood and most of the houses, hers included, were screened with lush tropical plants which formed natural hedges around the property. It gave a charming, hidden aspect to the houses and it was one reason she’d fallen in love with her little bungalow in the first place.

Now she belatedly realized that the thick foliage also provided great cover for an attack. The Mexican Breadfruit leaves of her own hedge completely hid what was going on in her yard from the street—even her nosiest neighbor, Mrs. Harmon, couldn’t see into her property. Great if she wanted to sunbathe in a bathing suit on her own front lawn—not so good if she wanted help while confronting an attacker.

“What are you talking about? What deal?” she asked warily, still gripping her red ballpoint pen.

“You didn’t give me a chance to tell you but I didn’t just call you to my office for old times’ sake.” He grinned most unpleasantly. “I also had a complaint about you today from one Mrs. Peltz.” He paused delicately and Emily could see how much he was enjoying twisting the knife. “She, ah, seemed to think you were
on
something earlier today. Said you were sweating and shaking and swearing at your class—”

“What?” Emily exploded, stung by the injustice of his words. “I wasn’t feeling good today and she thought she heard me say ‘shut up’ but that’s hardly
swearing
.”

“It might as well be. You know how we feel about using such derogatory language.” Grayson shook his head and made that condescending
tsking
sound with his tongue again. “Such a shame if you had to take a drug test. Even if it came up negative it would tarnish your reputation permanently—maybe even cost you your job.”

“I’m not on any damn drugs and you know it,” Emily spat, the
other
full force inside her now.

“Well,
I
believe you but I’m not sure the school board would. Or the parents for that matter if it happened to get out.” Grayson gave her a nasty smile.

“So what’s your deal?” Emily began to see what he was up to here. “You want me to keep my mouth shut about what you did to me and you’ll ignore Mrs. Peltz’s complaint?”

“Not exactly…” He took another step towards her and her fingers tightened on the Bic until she felt the pen’s plastic casing creak in her fist. “I admit that
was
what I had planned at first but now that I’ve seen you again, I have something else entirely in mind.”

“What?” Emily’s breath felt like it was stuck somewhere in her throat and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Yet she was frozen to the spot, unable to run—caught like a small, frightened animal in the headlights as he advanced on her. Where was the
other
when she needed her?

“It’s just…I’ve never forgotten that night we spent together.” Grayson took another step towards her, his eyes gleaming. “I’ve been with so many women since then but none of them could compare to you, my dear Emily. You were so
tight.”

Suddenly the
other
came rushing forward again at full force.

“That’s because I was a virgin and you
raped
me you bastard!” Emily heard herself snarl at him. “I asked you to stop—I
begged
you to stop. But you wouldn’t!”

“Well, as I said, I think we should let the past be the past.” He made a dismissive gesture with one meaty hand as though the horror he’d put her through was nothing. “Right now we need to concentrate on the present. And so I’m willing to offer you a deal—I won’t say a thing about your little drug problem as long as you’re willing to accommodate me once in a while. Shall we say…once or twice a week?”

“
Accommodate
you?” Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You mean—”

“Fuck me. Well, but I guess
I
would be doing the fucking.” His smile had turned into a sneer of malicious enjoyment. Clearly he thought he had her in a bad spot and she wouldn’t be able to refuse him. “At least once a week. Starting
now.”

He took another step towards her and suddenly he was right in her face, invading her space. Emily raised the red Bic pen intending to stab him but he caught her wrist in his beefy hand and squeezed until the bones creaked. Her fingers went numb and the pen dropped with a harmless clatter to the concrete of her driveway.

“You can cry and beg while we do it if you want.” Grayson leaned forward, pressing his cheek close to hers. “Actually, I think I’d
like
that,” he breathed.

For a long, nightmarish moment Emily felt as though the past was repeating itself. Here was Grayson, looming over her again, his face like a bloated moon that filled her vision. He had her in an unbreakable grip and his hot breath was gusting in her face. Only this time it smelled like stale coffee instead of stale beer.

And once again he was intent on taking what she desperately didn’t want to give.

“Come on, Emily.” He grinned at her unpleasantly. “I know you don’t want me reporting your drug problem to Ms. Edwards. So how about you invite me in? Unless you’d rather do our little business transaction right here in your charming front yard?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the last word. “We’re in
public
. In broad
daylight.”
Which was actually a bit of an overstatement since it was a gray, overcast day threatening rain. But still.

“I don’t think anyone’s home yet and even if they are, they won’t be able to see us through all the bushes you’ve got around here.” He nodded at the screen of Breadfruit plants. “Come on, Emily—”

Suddenly it was as though someone had lit a bomb inside her—a Molotov cocktail that burst and sprayed rage like fire through her whole body. The
other
rushed forward again.