Out Of Control

She
needed answers…but the questions

could
send her life out of control.

“Can
I help you?”

The
deep voice sent shock waves through Dana. She whirled, her knees shaking. Oh,
hell. It was him. The man in the truck. Wearing a uniform, for God’s sake.

“I
have to say,” he went on, “you look a lot better when you aren’t soaked through
by the rain.”

The
first thing she thought was
cowboy.
He had the easy, relaxed yet alert
stance she’d seen on men around horses and cattle. And his feet were shod in
square-toed western boots. She was sure his hat would be a Stetson.

But
the way his eyes assessed her, the analytical gaze…
military
. Some kind
of covert ops. A dangerous combination in a man. Dangerous to women. The
ultimate alpha male. And trouble.

I’ll
bet he has to beat the women off with a nightstick. Well, for sure he won’t
have to worry about me.

She
wet her lips. “I gave my card to your…to the woman at the window. I’m Dana
Moretti.”

“I
know who you are.” His smile was professional and didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve
been expecting you. Come on.”

He
swung the door wide, the muscles in his tanned arms flexing with the movement.

“If
you’d identified yourself last night,” she told him, trying to keep the acid
out of her voice, “I might have been more willing to accept a ride. I don’t
make it a habit of jumping into trucks with strange men.”

His
body brushed hers as he let the door swing shut, and lightning shot through
her. What the hell? She knew what unexpected lust was, but it wasn’t a feeling
familiar to her personally.

“So,
what kind of men
do
you jump in trucks with?”

Prologue

There was a
little girl who had a little curl,

Right in the
middle of her forehead;

And when she
was good, she was very, very good;

And when she
was bad she was horrid.

Carrie
tried to hold absolutely still. The tape on her hands hurt and the hood on her
head made breathing difficult, but she had to keep calm. She could hear Kylie
crying, and she wanted to help her. She just didn’t know how yet.

“There
was a little girl…”

They
were in a barn. She knew because she smelled the straw and animals. And wood
shavings. She didn’t think she’d ever smell wood shavings again without getting
sick. And there was something else. Something she was sure didn’t belong in a
barn. The unseen man had brought them here after he clapped something
evil-smelling over their faces. The vile smelling stuff had put them to sleep
so Carrie wasn’t certain how far away from home they were. When she woke up,
the hood she now wore was already on her head, there was tape on her mouth, and
her hands were tied behind her.

“There
was a little girl…”

Over
and over in that unnaturally high-pitched voice, the man recited the familiar nursery
rhyme. Carrie tried to wriggle around to see if she could get closer to Kylie,
but she was trapped.

“No,
no, no,” the man cackled, alerted by the noise she was making. “You don’t want
to be a horrid little girl. You know what happens to little girls who are
horrid.”

They
never should have talked to the clown. Only they were having so much fun at the
fair. And there were lots of clowns talking to other kids. How were they
supposed to know he was bad? They shouldn’t have walked away with him. Mama and
Daddy always told them “don’t go with strangers.”

But
clowns weren’t really strangers, were they?

“We’re
only going to walk a little way,” he’d told them in a high voice.

But
as soon as they were out of sight of the picnic area, the big clown grabbed
Carrie under one arm and Kylie under the other. Before they could catch their
breath to scream, he’d pressed something awful-smelling to their faces.

When
she woke up, she was in this barn seated on a chair, hands tied behind her so
tightly her wrists hurt. She couldn’t see Kylie, but she heard her and even
though she was scared, knowing her sister was with her had made her feel a
little better. The feeling hadn’t lasted long. Soon after she woke, the clown
pulled off her underpants and hurt her. She tried not to cry and scare Kylie.

But
then he’d whispered, “Your sister’s next and I’m going to let you hear her.”

In
seconds, Kylie started shrieking in fear and pain. Hearing her sister’s cries,
Carrie began to cry, too, soundlessly, behind the tape over her mouth.

The
hood on her head seemed tighter now, and it was getting difficult to breathe. Still,
she had to keep calm. She had to put everything out of her mind except Kylie.
She was the big sister. She had to try and get free so she could help Kylie.
She
had
to. She just didn’t know how yet.

Kylie
shrieked in pain, and the sound echoed in Carrie’s head.

Suddenly,
Kylie’s voice was cut off in mid-scream, and Carrie knew the clown was killing
her. Knew it in her heart. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She was more
frightened than she’d ever been in her life.

His
hands were on her body again, and he shifted her this way and that while he
touched her in strange, frightening ways.

“Your
sister didn’t last too long, did she? That means I’ll have to have fun with you
again, little girl.”

Carrie
tried to flop herself off the chair, but it was hard to do with her hands tied
behind her back and the clown man’s hands holding her in place. Kylie, Kylie,
Kylie, she chanted silently and bit her lip until she tasted blood. All the
while she tried not to scream, not to frighten Kylie any more than she already
was. Just in case—please Mama and Daddy and God—Kylie was still alive.

Then
she heard it. A strange noise, an engine of some kind outside the barn. The
clown man muttered some very bad words, but she ignored him as she strained to
hear the noise.

Her
whole body was on fire with pain, and her head felt as if it would explode as
hands squeezed her throat. She fought to breathe, to cry out to whoever was
outside. She listened hard, hoping someone would come and help them. Maybe it
was Mama and Daddy. Please be Mama and Daddy.

Suddenly
the hands were gone, so abruptly that she slumped sideways, and people were
talking.

“We
shouldn’t be here, you dipshit. Whose place is this, anyway?”

“I
dunno. It’s just an old barn. Been here forever.”

“I
saw a light. Someone’s there. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“You’re
crazy. It’s dark. Come on. I scammed this pot, and I’m going to smoke it.”

A
door creaked open and Carrie tensed.

“Hey,
Skeet, turn on your flashlight so we can see in here.”

The
new voices were inside the barn now, coming closer. Closer.

“We
can just…Holy shit!”

“What?
What’s the matter? Oh, Jesus. God!”

“Don’t
touch them. Go get someone. There’s a house down by the turn.”

Carrie
forced herself to whimper. Help me, she screamed in her head.

“Hey,
Skeet, I think this one’s alive. Go call the sheriff. Don’t just stand there.
Hurry up! Now, dumbass. Move it!”

Hands
pulled the hood from Carrie’s head, and she blinked in the sudden light.
Someone, not the clown man, placed her on the floor, and she began to shiver like
she did when it was too cold outside.

“Kylie,”
she tried to say, to turn toward her sister.

“No,
no,” the person who’d freed her said.

“Help…Kylie.”
She forced the words out through swollen lips.

But
nothing happened. The man didn’t move. She tried to do it herself. Tried to go
to her sister, but she couldn’t make her body move. It seemed like forever
before anyone else came to help.

She
heard the car doors slamming. Heavy feet running toward her. Men’s voices. More
strangers.

“Holy
mother of God,” someone said in an angry voice.

Hands
touched her. Turned her.

“Careful,”
someone said. “Her thighs are covered with blood.”

“I’ll
move her as gently as I can,” the first man said.

There
were more voices and more hands, and she shrieked in terror. “No!” She tried to
pull herself away from all the men touching her. Were they going to hurt her,
too? One man had already hurt her and Kylie.

“Oh,
little sweetheart. Oh, you poor baby.”

A
tall man crouched beside her, gently working the tape off her wrists. He tried
to lift her from the floor, but Carrie struggled to get away.

“Kylie!”
She screamed, kicking at the man, biting at him until he backed away.

“It’s
all right, honey,” he was saying. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

“Help
Kylie.” Her eyes slid fearfully to her sister, but the image was so horrible
she squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s
all right, sweetheart,” the man said. “I just want to help you. I won’t hurt
you. I promise.”

She
pulled away from him again. She hurt so bad. Everything inside felt like a big
sore, but it didn’t stop her from running to Kylie. Her sister’s broken body
lay on the floor of the barn, and she knelt beside her and tried to pull her
into her arms. The nice man bent down to lift her away, but she kicked at him
again, so he let her be.

That’s
how the sheriff and the deputies found her, cradling the small body of her
sister in her arms.

The
sheriff squatted down beside her, careful not to touch her. “It’s okay, Carrie.
We’ll take care of Kylie now. Everything’s all right, little one.”

But
everything wasn’t all right and Carrie knew nothing would ever be all right
again.