Murder Stalks (14 page)

She was his wife and a man had needs. He
closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten, trying desperately
to stop his body from taking over and scaring her away forever.

His muscles tensed as he stepped away from
her. He was lost and alone outside of her arms. She was his center,
his whole world. But he needed more than a few kisses from her. He
needed her back in his bed, not for one day, but forever. The
confused look in her eyes almost did him in, but he had to be
disciplined. One night of blissful lovemaking would be great, but
not enough.

“
Marissa, I love you too
much to jeopardize forever. I want you back all the way. I want to
make love to you, but I want to do that in our house,
together.”

“
I’m not ready.” Her voice
cracked as she turned away. Before her face was completely hidden
from him, he saw that her eyes were bright. She was going to
cry.

His hand shot out, pulling her back into his
arms. He stared deep into the liquid pools of her eyes, all he had
to do was dive in and he would drown in her soft supple body. Tony
drew in a ragged breath. The temperature in the small kitchen had
climbed to unbearable levels and sweat trailed down his face.

Dangerous was the only word that came to
mind. Staying in her apartment would mean certain death to their
relationship.

He would push.

She’d tell him she wasn’t ready.

His body would be out of control, and she
would see him as a beast.

He would push some more.

She would say no and kick him out.

It was better if he went on his own
accord.

“
Marissa, I have to go
now.”

“
Why?” Her voice was
whisper quiet and pulled at the deepest part of him.

“
Don’t ask me to stay. I
want it all or nothing. Once we sleep together, I won’t keep away,
and I won’t accept your living here alone.”

“
I’m not ready
yet.”

“
I know. That’s why I’m
leaving.”

Using every ounce of discipline and strength
he had, he broke away and headed for a quick exit. The doorknob
felt cold and heavy in his palm, unmoving, almost like it wanted
him to stay. He knew better. His mind was looking for any excuse to
be with Marissa.

On the other side of the door was an empty
house, no loving arms to hold him, and no one to listen to his
fears, but he couldn’t risk her rejecting him again. He still had a
chance, slim at best, but as long as Marissa was undecided, the
possibility of reconciliation survived. He turned the knob and
opened the door a crack, wishing Marissa would say something, but
she didn’t.

The heat blasted Tony as he stepped outside.
He would go to headquarters where he could maybe do something that
made a difference.

Chapter 11

Arisa Fink swayed her hips in a provocative
rhythm, causing everyone at the club to stare. The heat of a
hundred pairs of eyes trained on her was salve to her ego. Her body
responded, as it did most nights. Any stupid animal could tell she
was in heat and this club was full of stupid animals. A smile
played across her face as she rubbed her hips, garnering calls from
the men below.

Her mother had once told her, ‘That type of
dancing will get you into trouble.’

Arisa hadn’t found any trouble dancing at
Diamond ‘N Rubies. She had found a type of happiness that kept her
warm at night. The customers loved her, and if her mother didn’t
approve, so what.

She turned her back to the masses, ignoring
the truth that reverberated in her head. She was lying to herself,
but money was money and she almost had enough. Whoops of approval
bounced off the club’s walls and spurred her on. Her jacket slid
off her shoulders to the floor. She flung the cloth to the back of
the stage, thinking that she’d pick it up later.

A spotlight highlighted her bare breasts,
showing off the new nipple shields that looked way better on her
than they ever had on Janet Jackson. Claudine, one of the other
dancers, had told her so just minutes before she went on stage.

The men, and the few women, who came here
loved her large breasts. She worked the crowd with all she had,
moving from one end of the stage to the other. Her hands ran over
her voluptuous curves, stoking the crowd into frenzy. Adrenalin
pumped through her body, helping her believe she really loved
this.

She pulled at the velcro holding her mini
skirt together. In one quick rip she was rid of the scrap of cloth.
The roar that started near the stage continued to the back. Her
heart slammed in her chest, and a smile spread across her face. The
money flew in front of her. A few brave souls reached up and placed
the crisp dollars into her boots. She hated the touching, but the
tips were worth the feel of the guys’ hands on her legs.

Fear snaked down her spine when one tall man
raced his hand up the inside of her thigh and grabbed her micro
thong before she could stop him. She needed to run away but
couldn’t. Someone’s hands held onto her boots and one hand stroked
the back of her knee. She was trapped.

Long fingers curled around the thin material
at her crotch, pulling it tight. Her body jerked and flinched as
his fingers rubbed and pinched her flesh. Hate blinded her, making
her vision go dim.

Kicking the man was impossible. Hands
grasped at her flesh as total strangers held onto her legs, groping
her skin. Pain shot up her body as his hand rubbed her clit
hard.

“
Tug.” Her voice cracked
as she yelled out over the din. The bouncer was supposed to be next
to the stage. It was his job to stop this sort of thing from
happening. In desperation, Arisa pushed her arms down, wedging the
jerk’s hand out from between her legs. Her actions only opened her
breasts to the groping.

Now hands squeezed her breasts and someone
grabbed a nipple shield. Pain seared her chest as he pulled, almost
ripping it out of her flesh. Wrapping her arms around her breasts,
she pulled back, wobbling above the crowd. Fear gripped her as she
almost fell.

Just as Arisa thought she was going to be
mauled to death, two cowboys rushed the stage. The jerk with his
hand between her legs licked his lips. He moved closer, his mouth
only inches from her knees. She was pulled forward to the edge of
the stage. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. The guy
wasn’t letting go.

One of the cowboys grabbed her, wrapping his
arms protectively around her body, shielding her breasts from
unwanted touches. She cried out in pain as her thong was ripped
from her body, leaving a burning sensation between her legs.

Arisa instinctively knew when Tug placed his
hand on her arm, checking to make sure she was fine before he
picked up the jerk that had assaulted her and carried him outside.
God only knew what would happen to him once Tug got worked up.

Arisa’s feet left the floor as strong arms
picked her up, carrying her off the back of the stage and into the
dressing room. The small room was overly warm and filled with four
other girls in various stages of undress. A warm feeling radiated
around her chest, making her conscious of the cowboy’s eyes on her.
He never looked away. His gaze focused only on her face.

His large hands were gentle on her body, yet
he didn’t touch her in the spots where most men grabbed. She smiled
up at him as he draped a towel over her, covering her
nakedness.

“
Thank you,” Arisa said in
a choked whisper.

“
You’re welcome,” the
cowboy breathed out. His breath carried the scent of fresh mint.
She liked that. “Ma’am, don’t worry about that jerk, he’ll be taken
care of. If your bouncer doesn’t do it, then my buddies and I will
make sure he never comes back.”

Liquid dripped onto her hand. She was
crying. It had been years since she cried, and it felt damn good.
The cowboy reached up and wiped away a tear with his thumb. The
gentle feel of his hands on her face made more tears flow. Never
had she been touched so lovingly, not even by her mother.

“
What’s your
name?”

“
Don Phillips. And
yours?”

“
Arisa Fink.”

“
Well, Arisa Fink, would
you like to go out with me sometime?”

“
The only night I don’t
dance is Monday.”

“
Then we’ll go to Manny’s
on Monday at seven.”

“
That sounds great. I’ll
meet you there.” Arisa smiled. A date. She hadn’t had one of those
in years. Usually men wanted to pay her for favors, not that she
minded the extra cash. But sometimes she just wanted to be loved,
to feel the warmth of another human that was given freely, not for
profit.

The club had cleared out by Arisa’s next
number, only twenty people sat at the tables, drinking Coke or
Sprite. Alcohol service stopped at midnight, but the girls kept
grinding and the music kept thumping until two. She didn’t strip
down to her thong on this number, she only had one with her and
that one had been ripped to shreds thanks to the loony who had
assaulted her. The tips were good. She guessed that the few people
who had stayed to see her last number pitied her.

She drove home on automatic pilot, as usual.
Only a few weeks left, then she would have enough money to quit
dancing if she sold her house and the surrounding acres. Her future
was waiting for her, and after tonight, she was ready for it.

She uncurled her body from behind the
steering wheel and traipsed up the three steps to the sagging porch
of her country house. It wasn’t a palace, but it was home. The
isolation kept her from spying neighbors and gossiping do-gooders.
Just the way she liked it.

Arisa went from room to room, flipping on
light switches, chasing the darkness away. She pulled the blinds
closed in each room, blocking the out the rest of the world. On
stage it was fine, but at home she lived modestly.

Pulling off her clothes, she winced as she
ran her hand over her labia. The jerk had cut her, now she would
have to go to the doctor. Their accusing stares always made her
uncomfortable. Hypocrites. They didn’t understand that one day she
was going to go to college. Her dancing money would pay for her
bachelors in psychology, followed up with a few years of medical
school. She wanted to help women become stronger, more powerful so
they never had to submit to beatings and violence. She would be
their champion. All she needed was ten thousand more in her savings
account. Six weeks at the most. Hell, she could quit now if she
moved into a dinky apartment.

She stepped into the shower and sighed. The
hot water pounding against her back was soothing to her tired
muscles. She worked the foamy bubbles of her shampoo through her
hair twice, ridding herself of the stale tobacco scent that
followed her home from the club. She squished the silky conditioner
through her hair, covering each strand with its moisturizing
goodness. She had to take care of herself. Dancers at Diamond ‘N
Rubies were high class, not trailer park trash like at other
clubs.

Arisa let the water run over her head and
face, washing away the last traces of the club from her body. She
opened her eyes to pitch black. She let out a piercing scream, and
then she laughed. It was probably just a blown breaker, easy to
fix. That happened often in the summer, usually during the day, but
the lights had been known to go off unexpectedly at night from time
to time.

Grabbing for a towel, she grasped a swath of
material that wasn’t the soft fuzzy terrycloth of her towel. It was
thick, like polyester. She recoiled, but not quickly enough. A hand
grabbed at her arm, pulling her forward and out of the shower. The
crack of a fist, hard against her temple sent her reeling to the
floor. Her eyes closed and she passed out.

****

Arisa’s eyes fluttered open. Panic made her
breath catch in her lungs as tears sprung to her eyes. She was at
home, that much she knew. Her blue ceiling was dark above her. The
house was quiet.

She tried to move her arms but couldn’t. She
was cinched to the bedpost with strong cords. Her legs were held in
place too, making it impossible for her to move. The panic she
experienced earlier was nothing compared to the blatant fear
causing her muscles to contract, making the bands tying her arms
and legs even more painful.

Holding her head up, she looked for the
person who had done this to her.

Nothing.

She lay back, wanting this nightmare to end
now.

A noise startled her. It wasn’t sharp but
droning in low tones. She lay still, trying to calm her thundering
heart. Was that her vacuum? Someone was vacuuming her den and
kitchen!

She listened for another five minutes. Five
minutes of tortured thoughts about rape and mutilation. Then the
intruder walked into her room, imposing on her space, sucking all
of the air out with the running vacuum.

Arisa gasped for breath and the room spun
before her. Where was her cowboy hero when she needed him? The
intruder moved around the room, pushing her shoes and clothes out
of the way. He extended the hose out of the back of the unit and
attached a brush.

Tears welled in her eyes as he pushed the
vacuum brush over her body, between her legs and across her face.
She cried out when the brush was removed and the hose was pushed
against her bruised legs. She wanted to scream, but no words would
escape her lips. She was frozen in fear, unable to stop this
craziness, yet wanting nothing more than to end the torture.

The noise stopped and the silence was
sickening.

She longed for the steady hum of the vacuum.
Anything was better than hearing her own body as he used a vibrator
on her. It was one she had purchased two weeks ago and placed in
the drawer next to her bed. She cried out in pain as he forced the
shaft in hard and pulled out then pushed in again. Something tore
inside of her and she screamed.