Past Will Haunt (16 page)

In the bar, to his surprise, the other Fed was there. She must have been on some kind of date, since she was hanging out with some guy.

It amused him.

They were so close, and they didn't even know it.

This was definitely a sign.

The game was going off without a hitch. So, while he was watching the next woman, he was watching the FBI too. How handy was that?

When his prey left the bar, he followed with his backpack ready. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her.

No, he’d followed her before, so he knew the path she would take.

Hiding in the shadows, he waited for her to arrive at her block. As she headed up the stairs, he struck.

Moving fast, he slammed her head against the door to keep her from screaming, and it worked.

The thud echoed in the night.

Taking her keys, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Once inside, he scouted out the perfect location. Her kitchen was small, but he’d make do with the dining room.

He’d have to take her there.

Dragging her into the room, he tied her arms and legs until she was spread eagle. Then he began cutting her clothes from her body.

As she moaned, he shoved a rag into her mouth.

The woman gagged on it.

He didn't care.

Climbing onto the table, he stared down at her. “Let’s teach you a lesson, shall we?” he said, pulling his erection from his dark pants.

She screamed into the gag.

Then she repeatedly begged as he raped her.

The entire time, he smiled and hummed an Irish tune. Oh, this one was perfect, but he knew who would be better.

The Fed.

And then he came.

       
         
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

The Bog

It was getting late.

Christopher Leonard was officially drunk. He was slurring, tripping, and Elizabeth knew she needed to get him home. The entire night, she’d watched the bar.

People came.

People went.

She didn't see anyone familiar. She’d had two beers, been there five hours, and nothing was out of place. They tagged the killer as moving fast, but maybe he was taking a night off.

As she came back from the ladies’ room, she found Christopher in a very bad and dangerous situation. There was some bruiser getting ready to kick his ass.

She didn't know what had happened, since she was only gone as long as it took to pee.

Well, crap!

It looked like babysitting duty was kicking into overdrive. She couldn’t let her ME, and friend, get his ass kicked. She just couldn’t.

As she weaved her way through the people, she saw Chris get manhandled. The big guy was getting ready to wipe the floor with the man.

Well, it pissed her off.

The guy was some steroid junkie, and she wasn’t going to let her friend get a beat down. Chris wasn’t a mean drunk, so there was no way he could have done anything wrong.

“Yo! What’s going on?” she asked, pulling the brute’s hand off Chris’s throat.

It was like a scene from a movie. Everything in the place stopped. The cheery Irish music screeched to a halt, patrons stared over, and the big bruiser was now focused on her.

Great.

This was going to be paperwork for Gabe. She could see it now.

“We’re going to take over these darts, and the child was in our way.”

“Listen, he was holding it for me. Let him go, and we’ll head out. We’re done anyway.” She tried to do this the right way, where no one got hurt.

The man didn't have a clue what he was messing with. She wasn’t some date in a bar. She was a Fed with a mean streak.

“Awwww the geek boy has a pretty babysitter. Isn’t that sweet? She’s going to have to watch me bust your face. You pissed me off.”

Chris looked worried.

Elizabeth wasn’t.

“I suggest you let his shirt go, back your ass up, and move along.”

“Or what, princess? You can’t stop me, and he certainly can’t. He’s a nerd. Are you going to take the geek home and kiss his boo-boos? Nah! You’d never hit that. He’s not that lucky unless he’s loaded.”

Well, crap!

She saw the look on Chris’s face, and it broke her heart. This dumbass hit two of his weaknesses in one shot. “Actually, I am going to take him home.” It wasn’t really a lie. He was too drunk to drive. “He’s my boyfriend, and we’re going to walk out over your very sore body.”

The man laughed.

She knew she shouldn’t do it, but this guy was asking for it. He was actually getting ready to punch Chris. Well, she couldn’t let that happen.

She sighed. “I want you to remember that I warned you.”

Then Elizabeth took her shot. It was bare knuckles right to the face. Had it been a perp, the guy would have stayed down. Since this steroid junkie was hopped up on testosterone, of course he was going to get back up.

And he did.

The entire place gasped.

Chris stared openmouthed.

Unfortunately, that face shot only pissed him off and now she was really going to have to hurt him.

“You’re going to wish you didn't do that, sweet cheeks. When I’m done, you’ll be my bitch.”

“You’re a jackwagon,” Chris said, trying to find an insult to fit the situation.

“Not helping, Christopher,” she muttered, not looking away from the big man.

“You’re screwed,” the big guy said, cracking his knuckles.

“I’m going to warn you right now. I’m an FBI agent, and if you hit me, you’re in trouble. I’m talking about serious jail time.”

He swung out, barely clipping her lip.

She cursed. The asshole actually struck a girl!

Elizabeth tasted blood. The patrons, mostly drunks, began chanting ‘fight’.

Well, it looked like they were about to get one hell of a show. Elizabeth knew she was already in enough trouble. She struck a civilian and got their ME shit faced drunk, so why not?

She kicked out with her boot. It hit the man in the midsection. Elizabeth spun, elbowed him in the face, breaking his nose, and then punched him in the solar plexus.

Goliath went down.

Everyone cheered.

The woman with the downed man looked scared. She’d been all badass until her boyfriend hit the floor and didn't get up.

“Hey, blondie! Do you think he’s a geek too? Let me tell you something, sweetheart! Today’s geeks are tomorrow’s millionaires—not steroid junkies. I’d rather go home with him than that piece of trash you call a dick.”

The bartender rushed over. “Should I call the cops?”

She pulled her badge from her back pocket, and ironically, Chris did the same. She had to fight not to laugh her ass off.

“I’m a freaking Fed. I’m not taking him in. Let his bimbo drag his ass out of here. I don’t like freaking paperwork, and I’m not wasting my night.”

The man stared at her incredulously—like there was no way she could be telling the truth. It was the story of her short career.

“Sorry about the mess.”

He shrugged. “Are you Irish?”

She rolled her neck. “Yeah, why?”

He laughed, his lilt filling the silence of the bar. “Because a feek fights for her man.”

Elizabeth rolled her neck. “Seriously? Is that English? Do I have to look that up?”

He laughed even more. “Boys! Play some music for the lady.”

It started back up, and Elizabeth grabbed her ME by his collar. “You and I are heading out of here before you get us killed. You’re just lucky that I can handle myself in a fight. Our only other option was shooting him, and you don’t want that meeting with Gabe. Trust me.”

“Yes, honey,” he teased, stepping over the downed man to leave the pub.

Outside, she opened his car and waited for him to get in. She’d have to pick up the Denali tomorrow. It wasn’t like it mattered, she’d have to come back to interview the few waitresses and patrons.

“What the hell is a feek?” she asked.

Chris smiled. “It’s back alley slang for hot, sexy chic. I think it’s fitting.”

Well, at least it wasn’t something bad.

“Why the hell do you know that?”

Chris grinned sloppily at her. “Haven’t you ever heard of James Joyce?”

She had.

“I’m your boyfriend,” he said, laughing.

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m Lyzee’s boyfriend. Woooo hoooo! Wait until I tell the world this one. This is the best day of my freaking life.”

She snorted. “Christopher, that’s not saying a lot. We have to get you to aim so much higher.”

“Next time, can I punch the asshole?” he slurred, leaning into her body to whisper in her ear.

“Can you actually fight, Chris?”

“Hell no! How hard can it be? You just punched him in the face and leveled him. I can do that.”

Yeah, someone was a delusional drunk.

“Actually, it hurts like hell. My freaking hand needs some ice,” she said, making sure he was bucked in.

Chris took her had in his and checked out the bones in her fingers. “Nothing is broken.”

“Aren’t you handy.”

He brought her knuckles to his lips. “Yes, yes, I am. Thank you, Lyzee. Thank you for the best night of my life.”

“Yeah, yeah, what you’re going to be is hurting from the hangover in the morning, so don’t thank me yet. You better not puke in your fancy car, rich boy.”

He laughed.

“I’ll drive you home.”

By the time she walked around the car and got in, Chris Leonard was snoring.

Well, shit.

It looked like someone was going home with her.

Damn it!

See? Friends were nothing but trouble.

       
         
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

He was done, and she was a masterpiece. After the rape, he began removing her flesh. Slowly he cut, hoping she’d feel every single slice to her body.

He wanted her to hurt.

He wanted her to bleed.

He wanted…

He wanted her to know he was in charge. No more would he be ignored, unseen, and avoided. He was in charge of his fate and future, and she was lucky he picked her.

As he stared down at her ruined beauty, he was filled with pride. She was his best work yet. The way he opened her up, spread her out, and made her beautiful delighted him.

She was finished.

Now it was time to escape.

Grabbing his tools, he tidied up his mess. The last thing was the medallion.

He was signing his name to the art.

She was tagged as his forever.

Heading out, he knew it was only a matter of time. He made sure he walked through the blood, leaving footprints out the door.

She had to be found.

He needed the FBI to play the game with him.

If they didn't, what was the point? He needed that audience. They were the most important part.

They were the patrons to his art.

   
         
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Wednesday Morning

When he woke, he wasn’t sure where the hell he was. All Chris Leonard knew was that he had one hell of a headache, and it was likely from the beer he’d chugged.

Oh, that part he recalled as clear as day. There was no way he’d ever forget his epic night with Elizabeth.

How could he forget the best night of his life?

Even sick, he was still happy. She’d actually taken the time to go out with him, and that wasn’t the norm. Women ran from him as soon as they found out he was an ME. Oh, they loved that he was a doctor and loaded, but the dead body part was creepy as hell.

Finally, he found someone who accepted him for who he was. That was precious to him, and made it a great night all around.