Black Rose (7 page)

Black Rose

I hang up the phone and make my way back out to the sun room where I am having tea with my mother, Rose Wentworth.

   “Oh my,” she states. “It seems they have dubbed this serial killer
The Black Rose Killer
.

    “If you ask me he is doing society a favor,” I answer, speaking more to myself than her. “Killing off the dregs of society, they should give him a medal.”

   “Charles, I’ve not raised you to be so callous towards those less fortunate.”

  “Well, Mother, it’s the truth. As far as I’m concerned, he is only taking out the trash, ridding us of crime and disease. Where is father? Away on another business trip, no doubt?” I sarcastically deduce.

  “What are you implying, Charles?”

   “I think that we both know what I’m implying,
Mommy Dearest
.”

   “That’s just not true!” she denies, “and I don’t appreciate your insinuation.”

   “Still the queen of denial I see. Huh, Mother?”

   “I’ll hear no such thing. Now, hush.”

   “Yes, Mother,” I answer, but not without rolling my eyes.

     My mother lives her life in denial. It is how she copes with the stressors that come with my family’s wealth and prestige. In Rose Wentworth’s mind, all is well and every day is a good day.

Dr. Anderson

“Bill,” Evelyn’s voice screeches from the adjoining office.

Though her voice grates on my last nerve, I smile as my thoughts give way to my imagination. I can see myself placing my large hands around my fiancée’s throat and squeezing until her eyes bulge from their sockets. I am almost amused as I picture the shocked look that would ensue as I inform her I am the man who has been killing women throughout the city of Louisville, just so I can have sex with their cold, lifeless corpses.

My plan is working perfectly. Our engagement picture was front page news on the Courier Journal’s society page this morning. Of course, my fiancée is ecstatic about all the attention she is receiving. She has no idea that I know she is only marrying me for the prestige I bring to the table. She also has no idea that I’m using her as a cover for my alter ego. No one will suspect a man of my standing to be a serial killer—a sick necrophiliac who gets off on literally fucking women to death.

A dead body tells no tales. A dead body doesn’t argue about sex or kink. Most of all, though, a dead body just feels so fucking right.

Selena

I sit in front of the mirror and assess my life—it sucks. I had gotten into the escort business when I was twenty and now it seems as if overnight, twenty-nine is upon me. How the fuck did that many years fly by so fast?

I had been working in a club for a man named Antonio Wayne. He had been gracious enough to bring me in from Colombia to give me a chance at a better life. The ties he and his brother Ricardo have make it easy to bring girls over here to work.

Antonio was good to me, but his heart belonged to the woman his brother had given him, Roxanne. From the day she arrived as payment for money she had stolen from Ricardo, Antonio had eyes for no one else. It was like she bewitched him.

Diego had been visiting his club in New York when he saw me and showed an interest in me. Just like that, Antonio gave me to him as if I was nothing more than property. The next morning, I was on a plane with Diego and headed back to his home in Louisville, KY.

I guess the best way to describe my owner Diego is that he is a pimp. I work for a pimp and my life is a haze of drugs and sleeping with different men every night. It’s not that he isn’t good to me; there are women who would kill to have Diego as their pimp. I wear designer clothes, I date only the richest and most elite men in the city, and I have access to the best drugs. The truth is, though, no matter how good all of that sounds, I’m tired and I’m getting older with each day that passes.

Tears fall down my cheeks as I see the one man I had imagined being my ticket out. Right there on the front page is my best customer, with his fiancée, announcing their engagement. She isn’t even pretty; plain would be the best description of her. She has brown hair, brown eyes, and a big, fat engagement ring I had foolishly hoped would one day be on the fourth finger of my left hand.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! I’m so tired of fucking men I hate and now my best client is getting married. A part of me is saddened. Even though Dr. Bill Anderson isn’t much to look at, there is a part of me that daydreamed about marrying him and being taken away from all of the madness in my life.

This lifestyle I chose was only supposed to last for a couple of years. Like so many other women in my situation, time has snuck up on me and I’m aging out. I’m at a crossroads in my life. I need to either find another job and get out of this lifestyle completely, or take a bottle of prescription drugs and end it all. I could always OD on the cocaine my pimp so graciously provides me with. I breathe in deeply as I apply my make-up in a desperate attempt to try and hide the evidence of my pity party and the inevitable marks of age. I look myself in the eye one last time and think,
not today, live to fight another day…
        

Agent Turner

I’m dressed in my standard black suit and standing over a man who is no more a drug dealer than I am. “This guy isn’t a drug dealer,” I argue with my partner.

“The drugs are right there in his pocket.” Rene stands, waving the large baggie at me. I can see the smaller baggies inside, full of drugs separated and ready for individual sale, as Rene points trying to prove her point.

“Things aren’t always what they seem and you know that.”

“It’s cut and dry,
Agent Turner.
Her addressing me by my title is said in a smart ass tone. “For all we know, this is a drive-by shooting.”

“More like an execution,” I argue. “It’s time to hit the streets and see if anyone saw anything. I’m certain with those projects across the street someone was being nosey and saw this shooting. Whether you want to admit it or not, we’re dealing with three different M.O.s—
Black Rose
, our online dater, and this execution.”

“You don’t think people are trying to copycat
Black Rose
, do you?”

“I hope the hell not. This
Black Rose
case has done what I hate most; it has taken on a life of its own. It is completely out of control.”

“Since when did you become all about control, Agent Turner?”

“I’ve always been all about control. That is, until I met you.” She bends down and whispers in my ear, “well you make certain to remember I’m all about control too. You may run things at work, but when you take your ass home at night, I’m in charge. Right about now would be a good time for you to say, ‘
yes, Ma’am’.
”

My cock jumps as I whisper the words she wants to hear, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good boy,” she coos and I go from my cock jumping to a full-fledged hard on. I don’t know exactly what it is about this woman but whatever it is, I like it and I want more…

Melanie

I make my way around the apartment, touching all the nice things I would never be able to afford on my meager waitressing income. I still have not met the mystery man who sent the driver to bring me here. I’m impressed by the attention to detail this stranger has shown in all of his purchases for my son and me.

I look at my son, who is dressed in brand name, designer, baby clothes, and my heart swells with pride. Along with that pride is the immense relief I feel now that my son is in a much better living situation. Despite all of that, though, I’m plagued with questions and they are birthing a need in me to find out the identity of this mystery man. I grab Tommy and make my way up to the house of the older woman I will be taking care of.

I immediately feel comfortable upon her answering the door. She makes her way into the living room and sits, reaching for Tommy. He leaps forward towards her as if she is his long lost grandmother.

She chuckles as she eyes him chewing his fist and asks, “He is teething; has he been fussy?”

“He is never fussy.”

“That reminds me of my Charles, but he was always so serious, not happy like your boy. I was never able to have children and that sister of mine was always so preoccupied with her social status that she never had time for the poor boy. Why, I practically raised him myself.”

I saw this as my chance to ask some questions.

“Charles, you say? And what is his last name?

“Charles Wentworth III.”

“Do you have any pictures?”

“Why I have a newspaper article right here.”

I resist the urge to stare slack-jawed when I view him for the first time. He is absolutely gorgeous. Copper curls cover the head of an athletically built man with the bluest, most intense eyes I have ever seen.

“He’s quite handsome, Miss Jones.”

My head jerks around when I hear a deep, baritone voice speak. “Well thank you, Melanie.” I can feel heat flood over my face as I turn to see the man who is now standing in the doorway and looking at me as if he can see into my soul.

“Aunt Josephine, please watch Tommy while I speak with our guest.”

“Take your time,” she answers, as Charles holds his hand out in my direction. I take his hand and he escorts me as we make our way to the screened in front porch and back to my apartment.

Black Rose

A feeling of satisfaction goes through me when I view her hand shaking and she drops the keys due to her nervousness. I bend down, take the keys, and open the door for her. As soon as she enters and closes the door, I palm the doorframe at each side of her head, preventing her escape as I stare her down.

“You’re a very curious, little kitten aren’t you?” I don’t give her time to answer. “Asking questions behind my back? Be very careful, kitten. You may find out more than you are ready for.” She’s so fucking skittish and it’s turning me on so I purposely say something that will shock her. “Are you fucking anyone?” Again, I give her no time to respond. I just take one finger and place it under her chin, lifting it up and forcing her to look at me. “If you are, dump the guy. I. Don’t. Share.”

She bites her bottom lip and nods her head.

I lean into her ear and whisper, “Yes, Sir.”

Immediately, she says it and I know I have picked the right trainee.

“That means Tommy’s dad too.”

“I haven’t seen him since before Tommy was born.”

“Good, we understand one another.”

I never remove my eyes from her as I begin to unbutton her shirt. I spread it open and pop a tit over the bra I instantly recognize. Satisfaction courses through me over the fact that she is wearing it.

“Who bought you that bra?”

“You did.”

I lap over a nipple with my tongue as I slide my hand down the front of her skirt. I dip my fingers down into the underwear I bought her. “You belong to me now…mine.” I plunge my finger into her at the exact second I say
mine
and circle her clit with my thumb. I suck on her nipple until her legs are shaking and she comes for me. I raise my finger to my lips and suck her juices off as I stare into her eyes. A coldness comes over me as I clamp down on her chin with my thumb and forefinger until she winces. “If you ever come without my permission again, I’ll hurt you. I enjoy coming up with ways to torment a woman and I can assure you that you will only disobey me once. I lean in and nuzzle in her hair as I speak. “That goes for spreading your legs at night and finger fucking yourself while you play with your clit too. I own your orgasms now. If I catch you stealing what belongs to me, I’ll blister your ass until you can’t sit down. Now, go get your son.”

I wait just a moment before I move, just to send the message home that she is now under my control. She bolts out the door and back up to my aunt’s house. Her training has officially begun…