Rose of Betrayal (67 page)

           
She
had to summon strength from out of nowhere for Nicole's sake.
 
They could have their way with her, she decided,
but if they harmed her daughter, hell would flash before their eyes before they
drew their last breath.

           
Knowing
keys would not be necessary Susan's wavering hand inched toward the doorknob,
clammy moisture causing her fingers to slip.
 
Quickly drying her hand on her skirt she tried again and with a click
sounding like the setting of a time bomb, the latch sprung, and the door
squeaked open.
 
The den of inequity
spread before her the moment she recognized the pocked marked face with claw
marks leaking blood.
 

           
As
if he was the owner of her measly apartment, the ogre sat in a chair, one eye
swollen black and blue, his lower lip split and puffy.
 
With shaggy, greasy hair and a several day
old beard darkening his jaw, he would have frightened even the largest rats
into their holes.
 
Evil showed in the
eyes leering at her.
 
Tobacco extended
one side of his face.
 
His maniacal smile
revealed stained, crooked teeth.
 
Revoltingly a stream of juice spewed onto the marred floor just shy of
her feet.

           
The
security guards uniform puzzled Susan, the cap tossed onto the sofa.
 
Now she knew how he gained Ely’s confidence
in opening the door.
 
When he entered she
must have been frightened out of her mind, of course she ran, who
wouldn‘t.
 
His torn shirt pulled free
from his belt hung open drawing attention to the tee shirt beneath stained with
blood.
 
Mud coated the knees of his pants
and once black shoes.
 
With fear prying
her ribs apart, thoughts flipped back to the ominous day several months ago
when his fist pounded her desk.
 
Abruptly
returning were repetitious nightmares of him tying and torturing her.

           
Although
Susan's stomach retched, somehow she knew Nicole could never have fought the
battle his appearance revealed.
 
No, her
mind screamed.
 
This man loved torture
and would use her daughter against her just as Sommer’s used Ted's loved ones
against him.
 
One thing she was thankful
for, he was alone.

           
Casually
Susan's eyes scrutinized the room for signs of Nicole her glance finding
instead the suitcases on the opposite side of the chair.
 
Instantly, white dots spattering her vision
made focusing difficult.
 
Feeling chilled
all over she wondered what was helping her to remain upright.

           
Whipping
out the airline tickets from between the chairs' cushion, her predator flung
them to the floor.
 
“Finally, my straying
prostitute has arrived.
 
Were you going
somewhere, my lovely?
 
I hope you are not
in too big of a hurry.
 
I've missed you
sweetness.
 
Come over here so I can see
you better.”

Susan's eyes sought the
clock on the side table that read three thirty.
 
With her nerves scraped raw, she knew there was no other choice but to
carefully play out each ticking second to her advantage.
 
Masking her emotions, she slowly approached
and attempted a steady voice, “It's been a long time.
 
You look like you could use a little
nursing.”

“I hoped you would see it that way,
bitch.”

He did not move when Susan halted
mere inches away.
 
Steadying her
trembling vocal chords, “I see you were wise enough to make certain we're alone.”

           
“Well,
well, I'm impressed.
 
Not all blondes’
are as dumb as I thought.
 
You see I came
to collect what Sommer’s promised me.
 
I
didn't think you'd want your little girl exposed to a triple X rendition at
such a tender age.
 
Although it might
make a very interesting child's pornography video.
 
She's such a beauty, I wouldn't mind breaking
her in.”

           
As
was his intention, words that brought terror to every filament of Susan’s
body.
 
If only she had a knife, she
reflected, she would cut out his heart, but not before painstakingly dissecting
another part of his anatomy.

Eyes, full of hateful amusement,
shifted over Susan.
 
”I see I have your
full attention.
 
Now, now, you mustn't
worry about your precious little one.
 
It
will spoil your mood for me.”

Grating her teeth, Susan rallied, “If
I'm to play nurse, I'll need some supplies from the medicine cabinet in the
bathroom.”

With a warning glance he vociferated,
“All we'll need sugar, is the bedroom.”

           
“Bedroom,” Susan exclaimed
inwardly.
 
Suddenly she agreed that was
indeed a better idea when remembering the gun beneath her pillow.
 
That is if she could pull the trigger. Her
stomach turned inside out.

           
With
an expression turning hard and cynical, he replied, “Why, of course.
 
Where else could you better ten to my
requirements, but first,” clasping her wrist with his hand jerking her roughly
brought her knees hard to the floor.
 
Leaning forward on the edge of the chair, his anger temporarily abated,
he finished unbuttoning her blouse then with tremendous rage ripped it from her
to reveal the breasts heaving from panic.
 
“Am I frightening you, my lovely?”

Swallowing a lump tasting like fungus
filled her face with defiance.
 
Breathing
deeply, she retaliated, “Of you?
 
Why
would I be afraid of you?”

           
Withdrawing
a knife from his pocket, flicking a button on its' side sprung open a honed
edge blade, the point barely missing the tender skin between Susan’s
breasts.
 
Her eyes glowered at the dried
bloodstains on the blade.

           
Guiding
the blade toward the
vee
of her red, lace bra, he
murmured, “You're not at all like the other bitch.
 
You see, my love, she was terrified.
 
She screamed, struggled, and fought with all
her strength.
 
She was so small, like a
little girl really, but what guts.”
  
Crushing Susan's jaw and chin between his fingers and thumb he forced
her face close to his.
 
“Just look at the
damage she did.”
 

Slipping the knife
under the thin material of her bra, the slightest movement severing the silk
strap bared her breasts.
 
Danger and
desire, like volcanic lava, fused and erupted into his auburn orbs.
 
“Unfortunately, she didn't turn me on like
you.
 
I just let her fight while I proved
to her men are far more superior.”

           
Grubby
hands painfully squeezed Susan's breasts, massaging them until they turned
pink.
 
One hand grabbing the back of her
head twisted her hair.
 
Still, she
refused to show pain, or anger.
 
Fingers
tearing her locks shook her head this way and that, his expression like a wild
caged animal.
 
“Can you believe she spit
in my face?
 
The more I hit her, the more
defiant she became.
 
Now you wouldn't do
that, would you, slut?”
 
Parting thick
lips covering hers drew them into his mouth.
 
A thick, slippery tongue forced her teeth apart.

Little did he know
Susan had mastered the ability to leave her body and float into a sphere
capable of shielding her from human abuse? She had endured the worst a male
could deliver.
 
Feeling confident her
teacher and his goons would soon pay, her soul floated from her body and dwelled
on the ways she would butcher this pig.
   

           
“The
bitch wouldn't give me what she gave her lover.
 
Watching them by the fire, as the blanket fell from her, as he plundered
her, I dreamed of one day making her mine.
 
It was too bad she was a great disappointed to me.
 
She couldn't even get little ole Peter up so,
I left her laying in a pool of blood, her unborn infants life flowing from her
body.
 
Tsk, tsk, what a dirty shame.”

           
Oh,
my God, Susan shrieked inwardly, you, bastard.
 
Poor Ted, poor innocent Samantha.
 
Well, she schemed; he'll never do it to another woman, never!

“Kiss me, sweetness.
 
Show me how you turned old Howard on.”

           
Removing
his shirt, shredding his undershirt with one yank, filling both hands with
golden threads he pressed Susan's face to his blood stained neck, chest, and
stomach.
 
“Kiss me my love, lick my
nipples. “
 
Unzipping his pants to
withdraw his penis he shoved her face lower.
 
The odors from his body tugged upward at the bile she fought to swallow.

           
“Do
you smell it, blood, death,” his laughter as loud as the thunder outside. “Good
old Howard bragged to everyone about what a good blow job you give, and what a
tight ass you have.
 
He amazed us with
all his shenanigans.
 
I seized my
opportunity when Peterson slipped through our fingers.
 
The others were sent to search for him to
fulfill the contract Sommer’s paid dearly for, leaving dear old Howard and me
to pass some time alone.”

           
Squeezing
Susan's head tightly between his hands, he began directing quick movements that
increased his desire cackling heinously while babbling, “You should have seen
his face when I informed him I had taped the two of you together.
 
He became incensed.
 
Even more so when I told him that if I didn't
get my turn with you, his wife would soon learn about his lusty affair with his
prostitute secretary.
 
You see Howard
always hires the best.
 
It must have
slipped his mind as to how good I really am.
 
Oh, that's better, my love.
 
Now
you have the right idea.
 
Don't stop.”

           
Every
minuscule parcel of Susan's body throbbed in pain.
 
She wasn't doing what he wanted; it was
someone else, she felt nothing.
 
Soon it
would be his turn.

           
“Can
you believe Howard said he'd kill me first?
 
He actually pointed a gun at me and screamed like a raving maniac that
he would not share you with anyone.
 
God,
I had him down on his knees begging.
 
He
even professed his love for you.
 
Don't
stop now my little harlot.
 
I’m just
beginning to enjoy it.”

           
In
total bewilderment at what this cold-blooded murderer confessed, Susan couldn’t
believe the money, gifts, and flowers from Sommer’s was due to his love for
her.

           
Fine
hairs tore from her skull as he wrenched her head backwards forcing her to look
at a broadening smile leaking tobacco juice from the corner of his mouth.
 
“That's right beautiful.
 
You had the old cuss madly in love with
you.
 
Now I know why.
 
You can be proud of him though he put up a
hell of a fight, tsk, tsk, what a shame.
 
Of course, no one will ever find him.”

           
Outrage framed Susan's face.
 
Samantha!
 
Howard!
 
Dear God, this man was
insane.
 
Nicole, where was she?
 
Like icing on a cake, bravery flowing over
her coated her fear, her urge to be ill, the sugar sweetening the bile in her
mouth.

           
A hand slipping up to his face began
caressing while words, completely void of emotion, spilled forward, “We've only
just begun, my love.
 
It seems you need
to relax and unwind from such a busy day.
 
Why don't we get more comfortable?
 
I'm at my best when I'm comfortable.
 
Of course, you already know that, don't you?
 
Well, what do you say?”