Authors: Marie Rochelle
“
Hayward
, I’ve one question for you.”
Her nails raked at the hairs on the back of his hands and his mouth pulled up into a small smile. “What is it?” He asked. Whatever the question was he would tell her the truth. He wasn’t about to lose her again with another lie.
“Where you ever going to tell me about the investigation?” she asked him in a small whisper.
“No,” he whispered.
“Get your damn hands off me!” True screamed at him.
She wrestled around in his arms until he finally let her go. “I don’t ever want to see you again, forget you even know my name.”
Hayward
watched True as she raced out of his bedroom with a suitcase in her right hand. She never looked back at him once.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Back at her house, True sat her suitcase in the living room and she closed her eyes. She was feeling utterly miserable and still shaken about what happened with
Hayward
. “Well at least I found out about him before I walked down the aisle,” she whispered. Kicking off her shoes at the bottom of the steps, she walked barefoot up the stairs. A few tears stung the back of her eyes. Opening her bedroom door; she wiped them with the back of her hand.
“You don’t have to cry because of him I’m here for you now,” a voice slurred from the dark bedroom. A hand reached out and turned on the light beside her leopard chair.
“Oh my God,” True screamed. She turned and tried to run out of her bedroom.
The intruder ran around the bed and caught her by the arm. He threw down her on the bed then held a knife against her throat. “If you scream again I’ll cut you, do you understand me?”
True looked at the man above her and nodded.
Taking a rope from his back pocket, he laid the knife to the side and tied her wrists to the headboard. Picking his knife back up he used it to cut the shirt from her body.
“Please don’t hurt me,” True begged as a hot tear rolled down her cheek. She struggled against the rope.
He brought the knife back against her cheek. “Don’t make me cut your beautiful face, True.”
Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. “You’re the man who was making the phone calls to me.”
A sickening smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, perfect white teeth shined under a neatly trimmed mustache. “Do you know me from anywhere else?” He asked his hot breath on her cheek. He licked the side of her neck, taking little bites as his mouth moved closer to her ear.
True felt her
stomach heave
at his touch. She twisted her body around and tried to throw him off, but his weight was too much for her.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her face close to his. “I know you remember me, my little chocolate fantasy.”
Deep sobs raked her insides. “You’re the man from the clothing store I saw a few months ago.”
He planted a hard kiss on her opened mouth, “Sylvester Cantrell at your service.”
She tore her mouth away with a choking cry. “Don’t you dare touch me you crazy bastard!”
Sylvester gave her an evil smile. “I love when my victims are intelligent and beautiful.” He ran the cold blade of the knife slowly down the side of her face. “Having these doesn’t hurt either,” he said cupping her left breast roughly with his free hand.
True screamed, and tried again to throw him off her body. Tears ran down her face, her voice broke miserably. “Get off me your sick bastard.” He closed his hand around her throat blocking off her windpipe.
Sylvester brought his face down until they were nose to nose. His stormy gray eyes held her brown ones captive. “I don’t want you to be dead when I take my pleasure, but if you scream or call me another nasty name again, I will kill you without a seconds thought.”
He squeezed her throat, and then he let go of her.
True choked. She worked on regaining her breath. Blood began to pound at the sides of her temples. Shaking her head, she fought down the double vision that clouded her eyes. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Sylvester placing his knife beside her head.
“I wouldn’t try anything if I were you,” he threatened in her ear before he used both hands to work on remove her jeans. “I have so many wonderful things planned for you.” His glazed eyes raked her half-exposed body.
“You are very special to me True,” his nauseating breath fanned her cheek. “Usually I kill my victims after I rape them but I’m going to keep you alive for a long time.” The back of Sylvester knuckles brushed her nipples.
She sprang back from his touch as much as the ropes would allow. “I don’t think I’ll get tired of your body anytime soon.” She heard him muttered under his breath; her body shook with fear as he went back to work on her pants and she kicked her legs.
“Stop touching me,” she screamed in his face.
His opened handed slap came out of nowhere.
True’s
face snapped back from the powerful blow.
Her ears rung from the impact.
“Didn’t I warn you about that,” Sylvester growled, looking into her eyes.
A thin line of blood slid from her nose, she stared him directly in the eye and hissed. “I’ll do it again and again.” True tensed her body and prepared herself for another hit.
“Stupid bitch,” Sylvester yelled at her.
He raised his hand to hit her again when a voice from behind stopped him.
“I wouldn’t hit her again, Mr. Cantrell. Now untie her hands and get off the bed.”
Sylvester dropped his hand away from her face and looked over his shoulder. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
True turned her head and tried to see whom he was talking to, but his upper body blocked her view.
Sylvester raised his knife and placed it against the side of her neck. “Why don’t you leave before I spill her blood all over this bed?”
Her body ached with fear as she felt his hand shake. True closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. She didn’t want to die tonight at the hands of her stalker.
“I’ll put a bullet in your head before you made one move,” the stranger pledged. Why did that voice sound so like someone she knew? She moved her eyes to the right again to sneak a look, but with Sylvester’s body blocked her line of vision. She felt him shudder as he drew in a sharp deep breath.
“You’ll regret this.”
True held her tears in check as Sylvester cut the ropes from her wrist, she hurried to move off the bed, but Sylvester yanked her back to him. “You’ll be back in that position in less than five minutes, so don’t get too happy,” he snarled in her ear. He flung her away from his sweat-covered body.
True ran over to the dirty clothes hamper, pulling out a shirt and yanked it overhead. Her eyes desperately looked for a way out, but there wasn’t one. Her bedroom was up too high for her to jump out the window and Sylvester blocked the doorway.
She could finally see the other man, but his face was covered with a black ski mask. True couldn’t put her finger on it, but the other man seemed so familiar. Crouching behind a chair, she watched the two men interact and waited for a chance to escape.
“You weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow,” Sylvester said. He waved the six-inch knife toward the middle of the other man’s chest.
The man shrugged one wide shoulder and flicked an imaginary piece of lint off his black shirt. “Well, I changed my mind and decided to come here first before I went to the cabin to see you.”
True leaned against the chair and watched Sylvester speak with the stranger once more. If they would move a little to the left; she could make a run for it.
She was enthralled by what she saw; he pushed Sylvester’s knife away from his chest with a gloved hand “I’m glad I did.” The second man chuckled softly, and tapped the gun against his thigh.
“You were going to get a lot of money to kill her, but you couldn’t wait for it.”
True flinched at hearing about her own death, her eyes darted around the room, where was a weapon when she needed one? She brought her attention back to the two men. She watched patiently hoping that an opening would present itself, unexpectedly.
“Instead you had to come here and try to rape her.” He raised his gun and pointed it toward Sylvester’s head. “Sylvester, you are an idiot.”
She watched dumfounded as Sylvester lunged for the mystery man and the gun went off. He fell dead to the ground, a quarter size
hole
in his forehead with his eyes opened, staring at her.
“My God,” True screamed. She jumped up and ran toward the door.
“You aren’t going anywhere.” The shooter yelled as he wrapped his hand around her arm and flung her down into the leopard chair.
“What do you want with me?” She knew her voice trembled with fear, but it was unavoidable.
“I’ll tell you what I want,” he replied as he slowly pulled the ski mask off his head. He tossed the mask on the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I want you to die a very painful death.”
True’s
hands flew to cover her mouth as it fell open in shock, “Michael, what are you talking about?”
* * * *
Michael’s glassy eyes stared down at her and he waved the smoking gun under her nose, she leaned away from him. “I came here to kill you
True
.” He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head backwards. He tossed the gun across the room and picked up Sylvester’s hunting knife off the floor.
She pulled at his hand as a sharp pain shot through her head, “Stop this, why are you doing this to me,” True cried.
“Because I hate you.” his voice was filled with venom.
She finally worked his fingers from the back of her hair, “Why? What have I ever done to you?”
He walked around in front of her, waving the knife around in the air. “You have done more to me than you would ever know.” He said softly, almost mockingly her.
Michael moved across the bedroom and grabbed a chair from the far wall. Returning, he placed it within a hand’s reach of her and sat down. He tapped the knife in the middle of her chest. “So, let’s began our little guessing game and you only get three chances to guess correctly. If you don’t guess correctly the third time, you are dead.”
True fought the scream working its way back up her throat. Why was this happening to her? Why did Michael want to torment and destroy her?
“Okay, let’s begin. Why do you think I hate you so much?”
“I’m close to Stephen and you feel left out?” True knew Michael never liked all the time; she spent with Stephen when she lived in
“Very good True,” Michael sneered, tapping the knife on her thigh. “But there is more to it than that.”
The bright light in the room played off the shadows in his eyes, it scared her a little knowing how unbalanced he seemed.
She still didn’t understand why he wanted her dead.
“Okay, let’s try a different angle.” Michael said. “I want you to take a real close look at me and see if I resemble anyone
Hayward
might know.”
“What does
Hayward
have to do with this?”
“Answer my question.” Michael hissed, waving the knife.
She looked at his face for a few minutes then said, “I don’t see anything.” Michael pressed the knife against her throat and she flinched.
“I guess you aren’t as smart as I thought you were.” He muttered. “But I’m a nice guy so I’ll give you another chance.”
Michael moved back and stared directly into
True’s
face. “Look again.”
* * * *
True stared at Michael again this time really looking at his face. Dark steel gray eyes glared back at her, a lock of thick dark brown hair fell across his forehead. A gasp came from her lips. He looked just like
Hayward
’s son. She had only seen a picture of
Tyler
once inside a picture frame in the living room. “Oh my god, you’re Tyler Bryson’s real father.”
A pleased smile curved Michael’s mouth, “Very good True.”
She shook her head, “I don’t understand how you knew Brooke and fathered a child with her.”
Rolling his eyes Michael got more comfortable in the chair and retold
True
the story.
“I was modeling in
Europe
for a consultant firm and the representative they sent to discuss the contact with me was Brooke.”
His memories of her were pure and clear, “We were attracted to each other instantly so much we had
sex
the first night. Brooke was very kinky. The fact that I was bi-sexual seemed to make her want me more.”
God, he really enjoyed that side of her personality so much. “She loved wild and rough sex as much as I do which made us the perfect couple.” The memory brought a pleased, yet twisted smile to his face. He stroked the tip of the knife over his chin. “A month into the relationship she told me she was pregnant.”
True watched in silence as Michael raked his fingers through his hair, “Now you have to understand I wasn’t sure the child was even mine. Brooke and I had so many threesomes that I lost count.”
His mind returned to the night she told him she was pregnant and he pushed her away. He would never forget the look on her face. She was devastated by my rejection. “Brooke got upset I didn’t want to make a commitment. I knew about her sleeping with
Hayward
, so I thought it could be the slim possibilities that
Tyler
was his and not mine. I didn’t know under after I saw a picture of Brooke and Tyler in the paper that he was mine and not Campbell’s.”