Bound and Freed Boxed Set (25 page)

Lucille drove into the
driveway of the elegant Flynn home in her own car and while off the clock from
work.

Why is everyone so blind?
She wondered.
Why can't they see what kind
of man John Taylor is?

It was early Wednesday
morning, two days after executing the search warrant on John Taylor's lair.
That evil man! Who reads books like,
"
Screw
the Roses, Send Me The Thorns?
" Not to mention the numerous quotes he
had from the infamous sadist, the Marquis de Sade
? His
lawyer explained that Taylor was studying an ethics and religion course, and
questions like that were not relevant in any case.

Not relevant? The man was a
wicked sadistic murderer, and he had been let off - all because of an
impressionable young woman.

All the evidence from
searching Taylor's home proved that John Taylor had killed Professor Maria
Christina
Lopez. There had been so much proof, all
carefully hidden in the garage. Items from the victim's home, the woman's
purse, the gasoline
cans. Sure there were no
fingerprints, but the man had obviously used gloves. Then there was his
psychological profile and his violent and utterly disgusting history. Yet the
evil bastard had an alibi from Kelly Flynn, a twenty-four year old woman who
was no doubt guilty of perjury. That was no surprise.

What woman hadn't been
brainless and stupid when in they were in love?

Lucille got out of the car,
carrying the file on John Taylor. That asshole was impossibly attractive -
there was no question about that. Kelly Flynn wouldn't have a chance against a
handsome, inhuman, manipulative sociopathic monster like him.

As she mounted the steps and
knocked on the door, Lucille reflected that she was breaking a number of
privacy laws by doing what she planned. Yet her conscience was clear.

The door opened and Lucille
met Kelly's parents. The mother was a graceful stunner with her black hair,
deep blue eyes and pale skin. Elegantly dressed in a peach silk sheath dress,
with pearls and an open toe high heel, she looked like she was about to dine at
the White House. The father gave a genial impression with his stocky build,
orange hair and pale blue eyes. He was wearing equally expensive, yet more
casual clothes.

"Detective Irwin?"
Kelly's mother held out one slim hand. "How do you do?"

Mr. Flynn also shook her
hand and then added, "You said you wanted to see us on a matter of some
importance?"

"Yes."

"Come with us into the
study," he said. "We can be comfortable there."

Lucille Irwin followed them
into a gracious and welcoming room, filled with books, leather chairs,
expensive paintings and Oriental rugs. They all sat down, and Lucille told them
about the recent murder, and how the police felt that they were certain of the
perpetrator. However, there had been the issue of an unbreakable alibi.

"I'm sorry," Mr.
Flynn said. "I can't see how this has anything to do with us. How can we
help you?

Lucille then showed the
Flynn's John Taylor's file. They, of course, knew nothing about how their
daughter had been acting as an alibi for the man, and they were shocked to hear
it. Kelly had given a statement saying that she was alone at John Taylor's home
with him from midnight and five a.m. on Sunday morning, April 7
^th
and
this was also deeply disturbing, of course.

Lucille explained that all
the evidence pointed to John Taylor as the murderer, and how she felt certain
that Kelly was lying to the police to protect him.

The file was shocking
enough. John Taylor had an extensive psychiatric history. Right from a child he
had been difficult: Breaking another child's arm at school, torturing hundreds
of animals, being unmanageable and violent at home. Taylor's parent's,
frightened for their life, had thrown him out of the house at age thirteen.

Three childhood
psychiatrists had diagnosed John Taylor with "
Conduct
disorder." This was a disorder of childhood and adolescence that involves
long-term behavior problems such as defiant or impulsive behavior, drug use and
criminal activity. In Taylor's case, he had been using and selling hard drugs.
Statements written included the fact that John Taylor
was an "anti-social personality"
and was "manipulative and capable of violence and perhaps even
murder."

Taylor's early offenses had
been locked away and could not be used in evidence. Yet Lucille had felt that
if she were Kelly's parents, she would have wanted to know what was going on.

Mrs. Flynn, alarmed and
indignant, confided to Lucille that she "had always known there was
something wrong with John Taylor." She made numerous statements such as
"I knew it from the first, didn't I, Rodney? I told you!"

Wearing jeans and a T shirt,
with her hair back in a pony tail, Kelly arrived about an hour after Lucille
had, walking into the study with a broad smile and a cheerful, "Hey,
what's up? Is everything okay? From the message I got I was worried that the
house was on fire." When she saw Lucille, she visibly paled.

"Kelly," her
mother said. "We have to talk to you about John Taylor."

"Marguerite," her
father said. "Let me handle this. Come here, Kelly honey."

Lucille watched as Kelly's
father showed her the file, and explained how Taylor was a charming, handsome
man, but it seemed that they had all been fooled as he was actually dangerous
and manipulative. Kelly, Lucille was glad to see, listened carefully to
everything that her father said. She asked to read the file on her own for a
bit. With her back to them all, while sitting on the large brown leather
davenport, she read through the folder.

"Thank you," Kelly
said as she gave the file back to the detective. Lucille could see that Kelly
was extremely shaken. God knows Lucille herself, an older and more experienced
woman, had wanted to throw up.

"Now, darling,"
her father began. "Detective Irwin has come here wanting to know the
truth. Were you really with Mr. Taylor between midnight and five a.m. on Sunday
morning, April 7
^th
?"

The young woman blushed.
"Yes I was, Daddy."

There was an incredibly
awkward silence, and then Mr. Flynn cleared his throat and said, "But were
you asleep? Could he have slipped out at any time?"

Lucille had to hand it to
the young woman. Even flushed with embarrassment, Kelly Flynn still met her
father's eyes.

"Daddy," Kelly
said. "John Taylor and I didn't sleep between the hours of midnight and
five a.m. I was with him every single minute of that time."

Kelly's mother moaned, and
her father, clenching his jaw, remained stoic.

"Silly, girl,"
Lucille burst out. "Why would you protect him? Can't you see what he is?
Love is blind. He'll ruin you, Kelly. Don’t waste your life with an evil
sadistic bastard like him!"

Kelly jumped to her feet.
"I am not lying for John," she said with her light blue eyes
flashing. "I don’t believe any of this stuff in this file. It's all lies!
I was there when he broke that kids arm – there were three of them and he was
attacked by older, bigger bullies. I don’t know why that falsehood is in this
file, but I know John Taylor. He is a wonderful man and I am going to marry
him!'

Lucille was shocked by the
fury in Kelly's vehement reply, but before she could speak Kelly's mother cried
out, "You will not marry him! I don’t care how much money he has. I forbid
you to see him anymore. He is an evil man."

The arguments went back and
forth with so many nasty things said on both sides. Lucille began to feel that
she had made a serious mistake in coming to the Flynn's house.

One could not get someone to
see unless they agreed to open their eyes. Kelly Flynn, like so many vulnerable
young women everywhere, was choosing to be blind.

As Lucille let herself out
of the house, she overheard Kelly screaming, "I won’t give him up! John is
estranged from his parents. Well, now I am, too! I don't want to see either of
you again until you accept that John is the one I love, and the man I'm going
to marry."

God, Lucille thought,
feeling a little guilty.
I hope I didn’t make things worse. But what could
be worse than being under the thumb of a manipulative, psychopathic killer?

Wednesday afternoon Kelly
sat alone in her apartment in a weird and detached state of numb.

Kelly had a favorite chair.
It was upholstered in corduroy fabric predominantly in various shades of green,
with finer lines of red, white and yellow stripes, and a matching foot stool.
She had bought it on impulse, and its ridiculous colors matched nothing else in
her apartment, but something about that silly chair always cheered her up.

Not that it was able to
cheer her up now.

Chamomile tea with honey was
what she was drinking. It was supposed to be calming, but also hadn't worked
yet. A knot had formed in her belly, a hard tangle of emotions and anxiety. The
words from the police detective repeated in her mind.
Can't you see what he
is? Love is blind. He'll ruin you, Kelly. Don’t waste your life with an evil
sadistic bastard like him!

How had that detective done
it? How had she put so many grains of truth in those few hateful sentences?
Because John was a sadist and love was blind, at least Kelly certainly had
found it to be so.

There was too much that was
going through her mind, and so she had called work and begged to be allowed the
night off due to a 'personal crisis.' The Speed Dating coordinator job wasn't
easy to replace, and Kelly hadn't given them much time, but her boss, Tammy,
said she would fill in for her. Thank God.

Kelly took another sip,
trying to 'be in the moment' and enjoy her tea. At least she had caught up on
her sleep last night. John had told her that he rarely slept well. Was that
because his conscience bothered him?

Her phone buzzed, letting
her know that a text had arrived, and she put her favorite yellow primrose
flower cup down on the teak side table to answer it. It was from John and it
said: "R u going to tell me what's wrong?"

She instantly texted back: "Jesus
are you psychic?"

"When it comes to you,
yes," came the reply. And then: "I'm coming over. "

John would know that she
hadn't gone to work perhaps, from speaking with her security detail, and he
would have put two and two together.

Kelly spent her time while
waiting for John while tidying up a few things, not that the place had been a
mess. Being in love made her so happy that she didn’t need to sleep, hardly
needed to eat, and she had boundless energy so her little apartment was
immaculate. She was still in love, but she was confused and upset, too.

John buzzed and Kelly
unlocked the apartment entry way. She unlocked her own door, too, but returned
immediately back to curl her legs up under her, within the security of her
favorite chair.

As John strode confidently
through into her apartment, his authoritative eyes fastened on her, his gaze
searching her face, noticing everything. Outside Kelly knew that she looked the
same.

Inside she was different.

John shut the door and stood
still with his arms at his sides.

Kelly just looked at him,
aching to touch him, but the knot was still there, twisting in her gut and she
felt uncertain. God, John was beautiful. S
ooooo
freaking beautiful with those dark intent eyes, his s
trong
jaw, and thick wavy hair. What was it about his face? How could such pretty,
almost feminine features look so masculine? Kelly was staring, once more
ensnared by his dominant male energy. John simply took her breath away.

Kelly had been strong and
angry and certain when with her parents, but later she had begun to distrust
her own judgment. Lies! That police file was full of lies. Or was it? How had
she come to doubt John?

"Come here to me,
Kelly," he said, opening his arms wide.

Kelly hesitated.

John lowered his arms.
"I see," he said. Then he went to the breakfast counter and leaned
against it with his arms crossed.

There were long moments
where neither said a thing.

John inhaled a deep, lung
filling breath. "Kelly, I can see you are upset but you are going to want
to think about how you're going to deal with it," he said with a dangerous
edge to his voice. "No matter what has happened, you are still my sub. My
respectful sub, remember?"

The recollection of living
without John for a week stabbed her, and the pain of that memory snapped her
out of her anxious mental fog.

"I remember, John. I'm
sorry. I'm just a little freaked out right now."

John smiled then, and his
implacable, remote expression disappeared. "Good girl," he said.
"Kelly, look at me." John waited until she had her eyes on him.
"I am the same person I was yesterday, and the day before. I still love
you. I still want to marry you. You are still the best thing that has ever
happened to me. Whatever occurred this morning changes none of those
things."

John stood up, straightening
abruptly, and Kelly unconsciously flinched. He noticed, of course, and Kelly
felt terrible, but right now he scared her. He walked to the couch a good ten
feet away from the colorful chair she had curled up into, and sat down.

"Tell me what happened,
Kelly."

It took a little while, but
Kelly explained about the file and the detective who had come to see her
parents. "So, I turned my back to them, John and I made a copy of your
police record by taking pictures with the camera in my phone."

"You clever girl,"
John cried out and clapped his hands in admiration. "I should have known.
Do you have any idea just how smart you are? Later, when you feel better, I'm
going to reward your quick thinking in a more substantial way."

Kelly remained tense, still
unable to uncurl from her chair. It was a sexual promise, and John's smile made
her want to melt, but she simply couldn't unwind. The knot inside her was still
there. The reports on him had totally freaked her out.

"Show me the pictures
you took," John said. "I want to see what has you looking at me like
I'm Frankenstein."

Kelly came and sat down next
to John on the couch, and showed him each of the photos she had taken. The more
she showed him, the happier it seemed to make him – except for the dead
animals. No one could be cheerful over that. This unexpected joyful response
loosened something inside that she had been holding tight.

"Why are you so
happy?" she asked.

John smiled. "I had a
full police record check four years ago, Kelly, when I was starting up the BDSM
club. None of this stuff was in my police records back then, none of it. This
is all juvenile stuff, and is supposed to be sealed. It was sealed. So who put
it there? There is only one person who could have done it, my father. But why?
It's a clear violation of our agreement. Isn't he afraid that I'll retaliate
with the evidence of his abuse?"

John frowned and pursed his
lips. "I don't like it. The balance of power has changed somehow and it
was always a delicate balance." John put his hand to his chin, and rubbed
it as he considered. "What could have happened I wonder?"

"Then it's all lies
then, John?" she asked eagerly. "Something your father put in the
file?"

"Not all, Kelly,"
John said. "Just almost all lies."

"Oh."

"I have never taken
drugs, probably because I never had friends," John said. "I suppose I
would have tried drugs and alcohol if I had been a normal sort of kid going to
parties and such. The opportunity was simply never there. I certainly never
sold drugs."

He chuckled, and shifted
back further on the couch. "I've never even seen them. You know yourself
that I broke that boys arm in self defense. These accounts of incidents of
violence can be easily challenged. They are all twisted stories, embellished to
make me look worse. The psychiatrist's reports, well, let's just say my father
has a lot of influence. I was seen by a crap load of psychiatrists as a
child."

Kelly felt John's
penetrating gaze reveal everything she was thinking as he searched her face.
Kelly trusted him completely; at least she had until this morning. Would John
lie to her? Could he? And if he did, how would she know?

But did she really want to
hear the truth? That was the real question.

Noooo!
a craven animal voice wailed from somewhere
inside her.
I can't face it! I can't!

Couldn’t she turn back time
and somehow un-know what she knew now?
More than anything she wished
Detective Irwin had never visited her parents. Then Kelly could have gone along
as always, and nothing would have changed.

The truth – if it was what Kelly
was afraid it might be – would be the one thing that could break her and John apart
forever.

Standing up abruptly, John
began to pace from the kitchenette, across the living room to the hall, and
back again. "You are upset over the pictures of tortured animals that are
in that file."

"Yes," she rasped
in a hoarse voice. "You didn’t… did you?"

Her turned and looked at her
with narrowed eyes and an intense stare. "And if I did?"

Oh God,
Kelly thought,
if John has tortured
animals, I don’t think I can possibly love him anymore.