Authors: Bonnie R. Paulson
He didn’t wait for my answer, just watched the movements of my body, as if I moved toward him in agreement. His grunts and moans with each of my twists pulsated in the air. He murmured. “I knew you’d see it my way.”
Adjust
ing to reach my simple blade clipped to the upper band of my underwear, I tried not to slice him when he dipped his head to taste my freshly exposed nipple. The moment had to be exact. I couldn’t miss.
There would be no second chances with this bastard. He bit down. I screamed. He pulled back and grinned, his teeth darkened with my blood.
I reached for my chest, instinct to cover the wounded area, protect myself. But he shook his head and yanked my hair until my chin pointed upward and tears pricked my eyes. “If you try to cover yourself again, I’ll take you to jail
after
. Understand?” Only a fool would pass off the shit in my eyes as stars. No, black dots covered my vision in spurts and patterns. With the strength behind his hold, my scalp might not be intact after I got out of there, if I made it out. At least I’d been able to confirm that he hadn’t bitten off my nipple.
Every muscle in my body tightened and it was all I could do not to pull out my knife and cut him into small pieces right there.
The small jerk of my head could be taken as assent, or if he’d known me better, he’d have seen the vengeance flooding my gaze, the tightening of my jaw and shoulders. When he dropped his hold, my body drooped into the seat like a freed marionette.
He draped his right arm behind me on the back of the seat, pivoting in the driver’s seat to give me better access. Oral sex seemed to be on every man’s priority list. I’d heard all the names Nancy and the other girls called it, but I couldn’t even imagine the act, let alone talking about it. I’d seen
two too many dicks intent on hurting me to consider putting my mouth on any of them.
Watching me, he undid his pants with his left hand, the sighing of the zipper ominous in the quiet of the car. I’d calmed my breathing, gripping my knife in my free hand
behind my back. But I continued heaving my chest, my petite breasts moving in the light from the street. He watched them, as if he couldn’t wait to bite them again.
A dull ache replaced the awareness of my nipple. Warmth trickled down to my stomach, seeping into the waistband of my shorts.
I’d never bled before. I’d never left anything of myself at the scenes. I couldn’t start that time.
“Well?” He motioned toward his lap with a jerk of his head.
I never understood men. Didn’t they know that placing a part of themselves so close to an enraged woman was not the smartest thing to do, if they wanted that piece to stay intact? From some of the girls, I’d heard stories about tricks biting off the heads of the johns’s, well, johnsons because of the abuse. You’d think they’d learn.
Now or never. I curled my knife up under my wrist as I bent over his lap. His junk lay limply in the crux of his lap, as if pulled out to be relieved.
I raised my head up and met his gaze with mine filled with questions.
He drew his fist back and popped me
in the stomach, stars – there they were – bursting in front of my face. He lowered his nose to mine. The growl reached me on an intimate level, scaring the serious crap out of me. “If you can’t make
him
do what he should, you’re going to die.”
So it really was me or him
and I wasn’t talking about his mediocre junk. How many girls had been unable to turn him on? He liked them young, but why?
I nodded. What else was I supposed to do, warn him of the impending cutting? He leaned his head back against the window and closed his eyes. I approached his crotch with determination
, my grip tightly clenched. I’d make the cop’s problem disappear. Fast.
Over his shoulder, through the glass, movement caught my attention. Deegan darted between two cars on the far side of the lot, carrying something in his arms.
“Now!” The cop struck the side of my head with less force but enough to make me grit my teeth.
I jerked my face to the side, staring at him from the corner of my eyes. Would he treat me the same way if I wasn’t pretending to be a hooker? If he knew my dad was a preacher?
Deegan appeared behind him, hand up like he wanted me to stall or something. I whimpered. “It’s hot in here. I do better work with the windows down. Is that okay?” I raised my hands, expecting another blow.
“Sure, kid, but this better work.” He used his elbow to push the automatic window button. Both the driver’s and passenger’s glass rolled down.
Cooler than I’d like, the breeze ruffled my short hem.
Deegan ducked and disappeared from my line of sight.
The cop leaned his head back again, this time half-in and half-out of the window. His eyes closed, he shifted and sighed. “Oh, yeah. This is nice. Now, get going.”
Suddenly, Deegan was there, wrapping a nylon cord around the cop’s neck, fast like someone tying off a boat. Rope around his throat, the man’s eyes grew wide and he scrabbled at the silky line with his fingers.
The rope cut off his ability to cry for help.
Deegan twisted the rope in his hands, nodding at me to do my job. When I raised my knife, Deegan loosened the rope. The man straightened his neck and clutched at the remaining cord while coughing.
With a sly flick of my wrist, I
ran the knife through the soft penile tissues not once, not twice, but three times and then once through either femoral artery, before the cop knew what hurt more – the near-strangling or the slice-and-dice.
“Move back, now.” Deegan released one end of the rope and slid it free, wrapping it in his hands. He rounded the car
, his steps slow and determined.
I pushed back, clear over into the passenger seat, against the
open window, knife held aloft in front of me, in case he had more blood than any of my other kills. Or in case he went for the gun and got off a shot before he died. Which he would die. I had no doubt.
He moaned, grabbing between his throat and his lap.
Lifting his head, he watched me. His mouth worked, spewing words that had no meaning in the suddenly close air. He lifted his hand toward the radio piece, as he tried focusing his attention on the black square inches from his reach. He tossed his hand again, but this time it only jiggled at his side, under the steering wheel. “Oh, shit.” His eyelids drooped. His head lulled and then dropped completely to his chest.
From behind me, Deegan placed his fingers on my bare shoulder. “You okay? We need to get out of here. This is an unmarked car for a reason. He might do check-ins but I’m not sure how often. Come on.”
I worked at the door handle, but couldn’t get it, the lock more complicated than I could handle at that exact moment. Deegan reached in and flipped the lock. Opening the door, Deegan caught me as I half-fell, half-jumped from the confining quarters. I couldn’t catch my breath. A sob wanted out, but I could only breathe hard and fast, my heart close to exploding.
Deegan stuck his head in the window and scanned the interior. Over his shoulder, he whispered, “Did you leave anything in here?” Then he spotted my still bare breast, he whipped to a standing position. “Is that blood? How did he cut you?” With the edge of his shirt, he reached up and wiped at the dark trail leaking from my nipple down my stomach.
The act seemed so normal while so intimate, but I was unable to feel shame or embarrassment. In the seconds after one of our kills, it seemed Deegan knew me – deep into the darkest corners of my soul. If he saw my boob right then, what did I care?
But the wound made me self-conscious. I covered it with my cupped fist and shifted my feet. “He bit me.”
The halter top had ridden up. I pulled it down while keeping myself covered with my fingers.
“He… Bit you? I…”
Deegan looked back into the car, staring at the body. He pulled off his hoody and wrapped it around my shoulders, his arms holding me close. “Come on. We’ll talk about this later.”
Teeth chattering, I held firm to my spot. “Did you see any of my blood in there?”
Stronger than me, not to mention larger, Deegan didn’t have to struggle hard to get me to succumb to his will. He pushed and pulled me and I moved, tripping over my own feet. He breathed in sharply and scooped me into his arms, sweeping me away from the scene and further into the protective shadows of the alleys. “I don’t know. Everything’s covered in blood, but I’d say it’s his. I wouldn’t worry about a spot or two of yours. Are you okay? What else did he do?”
What he was really asking was where else had his mouth been on me. I could feel it in the
tension of his arms and the heat from his chest.
I didn’t answer. I hadn’t done anything I was particularly proud of, but I also had nothing to be ashamed of either.
Yet the guilt flooded me and, once we returned to the alley where we’d arrived, I pushed from his arms, falling to my knees. Vomiting. And vomiting. I held my hair back, uncaring that the minimal contents of my stomach splashed on the broken slabs of cement and dotted my skin. I hadn’t fixed my top yet, nervous about potential pain and, in complete honesty, I kind of liked the way Deegan avoided looking at it, but at the same time couldn’t keep his eyes away from it.
Arms holding me from falling into my mess, I used the back of my hand to wipe at my mouth. “With experiencing two of these before, and throwing up each time, you’d think I’d remember to bring mouth wash and some napkins, you know?” My laugh turned into another gag and I curled into the violent throes of my body as it tried expelling the shock and horror of the past twenty minutes or so.
Holy shit, time flew when trying to kill someone. I shook my head, rocking back on my heels, crossing my arms over my knees. “How did you know?” My stomach rumbled in protest at speaking too soon, but I had to know.
“About him being a cop?” Deegan knelt beside me, holding out the blue cloth. “He had too many things poking out of the car, like antennae and stuff. I’m surprised you didn’t.”
Soft, the welcomed cloth hid my face for just a second, but it was a second I couldn’t help but be grateful for. A slow nod and I folded the square in half, then half again. Wiping at my stomach and breast, then covering up what I could with my halter top, I nodded again. “I knew. Just not until I got in the car.”
“Why didn’t you get out of there?” He plucked something from my hair, his fingers lingering a little long.
“Because…” I couldn’t tell him I thought a dirty cop deserved what this one got more than even Sheldon and Bobby combined. A cop that used his power against others was the biggest bully in the world – and I hated bullies. “I just didn’t, okay?” Standing, I offered him the material back, holding it out at waist level.
His pointer finger applied gentle pressure to the small notch under my chin, lifting my face to him. With his other hand he traced the tender skin of my face where the cop had imprinted his wants.
“Oh, Cassie. You can’t do this again. You keep getting hurt. This time…” Deegan didn’t even try to hide the direction of his gaze as he took in my disheveled appearance – bruises, blood, and all. “Each time more happens. What happens if we do a next time, and —”
“There has to be a ne—”
He held up his hand. “If there’s a next time, and you get hurt worse… I don’t know what I would do, okay?”
The emotion in his words betrayed me. I hunched my shoulders, arms circling my waist, real tears dampening my cheeks. “Stop. Just stop.”
“What? You need to consider the danger, Cassie.” He brushed at my hair as the breeze picked it up and sent it drifting across my chest. “How much have you been victimized already? Look, these guys get short sentences for hurting people – those that report it. From what my dad says, there are only about ten percent of actual victims that report anything. I agree with what we’re doing. So many pedophiles get a slap on the wrist or a fine and then they get to do more.” His jaw flexed. “It’s important we do this.”
“Why?” I got why I was so into it. The shame and fear that the men instilled in me had become almost addicting because shortly after they were dead and the power had shifted to me which made it even headier, like a rush one would get jumping from a plane but much more dangerous.
“I… When I was little, something like this happened to me. My mom had a part-time job and I stayed at a daycare. Let’s just say, they didn’t watch the kids that closely.” He looked at my chin, my hairline, anywhere but at my face.
For some reason, I hadn’t been forced to speak about the way the men treated me. I couldn’t comprehend the shame that washed over me when I just thought about the acts. How difficult must that admission have been for Deegan? I pressed my hand on his upper arm. “I’m sorry. I get it. This isn’t easy.”
He shook his head. “It was a long time ago. Every time I’ve met with you and one of these guys has gone down, a small piece of me feels avenged. We can’t stop, not yet. I just don’t want you getting hurt. I can’t handle that you’re touched and injured every time and I don’t know about it until afterwards.” He touched the lobe of my ear with his thumb. “We need a different plan.”
I slapped his hand away. “No. You. Stop.
I can’t take the uncertainty for another year. What is this?”
He held up his palms
. “What is what? I’m concerned about you. I think we need to reconsider what we’re doing.”