Ray Hoy - Jack Frost 01 - The Vegas Factor (13 page)

I said, “One more time, just to keep ol’ Jack happy—are you absolutely
sure
you should still be riding?”
 

She squirmed in the saddle, adjusting her big belly until she was comfortable. She took the reins in her hands, a happy smile on her face. “I won’t go far, and I’ll take it easy, no loping, honest!”

“You have your cell phone, right?

She nodded and smiled down at me. I waved as she turned the horse and rode out of the corral, heading toward the hills at a walk. Ripper streaked past the horse and rider, racing on ahead of them.

I got into the Jag and headed for town to pick up some supplies. As I drove away, I marveled once again at her radiant look. Her skin, always flawless, now glowed; her eyes were like sparkling black diamonds; and her black hair had an almost unnatural sheen. I had stuffed enough vitamins into her during the past few months to revive a mummy.
 

She was as full of anticipation as she was with new life. My God, she was so pregnant—and so beautiful. She was naturally full-breasted anyway, but as her time grew closer, her breasts had swollen until they were almost too painful for her to touch. She waddled around the little cabin, her hands under her stomach, supporting the weight.
 

I frowned. I should have refused to let her go riding.
Right, Frost! I’m sure she’d have followed your orders to the letter!
She was as exasperating as she was pregnant.

* * *

Felicia allowed the horse to wander along the snow-covered trail. She sat upright on the animal, straddling his big, warm body, totally content. Holding the reins in one hand, she placed the palm of her free hand against her stomach. What had to be a small knee poked sharply outward. She laughed aloud as the little guy kicked.
 

She sat there smiling. “If only Jonathan could be here.” With that thought came a sudden, wrenching need and longing. The picture of Jonathan Flynn burst into her mind, bringing an involuntary groan to her lips. Her mood of outright joy disappeared and she burst into tears. She sat on her horse and wept.

As quickly as it had come, the sadness passed. Within moments she was loping down the trail, despite her promise to Jack. She rode on for a mile or more, Ripper ranging far and wide ahead, coming back every now and then to look up at her. She spoke to him each time, and he would turn in circles and chase his stubby tail out of pure playfulness. Then, once again, he would race away, belly low to the ground.

She slowed Traveler to a walk. She was tired, but every time she tended to slump in the saddle, the pressure of her big stomach reminded her to sit upright. As she watched Ripper, perhaps twenty yards ahead, he suddenly collapsed in mid-stride, sliding for a few feet on the snow before he came to a halt, his feet twitching. “Ripper!” she cried. She urged Traveler into a gallop.
 

As she reined up she could see that the big dog had stopped moving. Blood covered the left side of his head. She dismounted, nearly falling in her haste. An ugly, bloody furrow was carved across the side of Ripper’s head, just missing his left eye. His breathing was shallow.

With horror, she realized he had been shot. As she frantically tried to dig her cell phone out of her pocket, she heard the pounding sound of running feet. She looked up, eyes wide. Bearing down on her, just yards away, was the hulking form of Benny Florentine. His black suit jacket was open, and his hat flew off as he ran. He was close enough so that she could see the gleam of perspiration in his blond crew cut. His eyes, set back under the overhanging, shelf-like forehead, were hidden in shadow.

She began to run, knowing she would never make it to the horse in time; it had been difficult to mount up, even with Jack helping her.
 

Benny swarmed in on her. He grabbed her black ponytail and bulldogged her to the ground. She landed hard on her stomach and rolled over and over in the snow, coming to rest flat on her back, the wind knocked out of her. He pounced on her, sitting heavily on her breasts as he pinned her shoulders with his knees. She looked up at him, her face twisted in terror. His face was cruel.

“You made a fool outta me, Felicia,” he said. “And now you’re gonna pay for it.” He got to his feet, her pony tail still captured in his meaty left hand. A scream ripped from her throat as he yanked her to her feet by the hair. He held her at arm’s length with his left hand and closed his right fist. She stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide.
 

Benny hit her in the face, knocking her off her feet. She sprawled on the sand on her back, arms and legs splayed out. He reached down and scooped her up with ease, then carried her toward the entrance of a nearby abandoned mine shaft. He walked a few yards into the shaft, then threw her to the ground.
 

He went back for the dog. He carried Ripper back to the mine shaft, being careful not to get blood on his suit. He threw the Doberman into a corner, discarding the animal as if he were throwing away a piece of trash.

Benny stood over Felicia’s inert form for a few moments. Then he got down on his knees and looked her over from head to toe. The side of her face was swollen. His ring had cut her cheek to the bone; blood ran down that side of her face. He moved the cheekbone with his fingers. It felt soft and pulpy.

He ran his hands slowly over her body, making low, crooning sounds in his throat. His hands shook as he began to unbutton her plaid shirt. When the excitement became too much for him, he grabbed the shirt in both hands and tore it apart. He sat back for a moment and stared at the great brown breasts.
 

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a switchblade and flicked it open. Sliding the blade between her skin and the center of the bra where the cups joined, he pulled upward, slicing the bra cleanly in half. He put the knife away, then gingerly reached down and parted the two halves of the bra, unveiling her breasts. They looked larger than he remembered when he had watched his boss make love to her that night. The brown skin looked swollen and tight, and gleamed in the faint light that came in through the mine shaft entrance.

He had always wanted a pregnant woman, but had never had one. This was beyond his wildest dreams. He reached behind Felicia’s head and lifted her to an upright position. With difficulty, he got her out of the denim jacket and threw it into the corner. Grunting with the exertion, he ripped the plaid shirt from her body, pulled the severed bra from beneath her, and tossed it aside.

He let go of her head. It dropped limply on the sand. He yanked off each boot, pulled her jeans off over her legs, and tossed them aside. She lay unconscious on the cold sand, wearing only red bikini panties.
 

Benny stared at the huge, round stomach. It seemed even bigger than when he had watched her from the protective rock formation as she rode down the trail.
 

He ran a finger over the protruding belly button.
She’s as helpless as a turtle on its back. And she’s mine for as long as I want her.
 

He listened to Varchetta’s voice in his head:
Kill her, Benny, but don’t touch her, do you hear? Just kill her and get rid of her where she’ll never be found. But keep your damn hands off her!
 

He had assured his boss that he would not touch her. No, he would not think of doing that. “Screw you,” he said aloud. The boss would never know. She was here with him, and nobody else in the whole world knew that the two of them were in this place. The boss was hundreds of miles away, in Las Vegas. The dog was dead, and Frost wouldn’t know where to look for her.
 

He had all the time in the world. And he had wanted her for so long. Only when he tired of her, would he kill her. He pulled her panties off over her legs. Then he pulled a coil of heavy cord out of his pocket. Minutes later, she was spread-eagled on the floor of the mine shaft, cord wrapped around each wrist and ankle, the other ends tied to the supporting timbers. The sight reminded him of Billy, the young whore who had not been very affectionate.

He sat down on the sand next to her. He amused himself by running his hands over her body, peering closely at the goose bumps on her skin, caressing the big belly, and squeezing the swollen breasts.
 

He jumped involuntarily at the sound of a cell phone ringing. Puzzled, he looked around, then realized it was coming from the pocket of her jeans that he had tossed into the corner. He laughed. He knew it had to be Frost calling. That thought bought a pleased smile to Benny’s face.

The ringing finally stopped, and he resumed his vigil. He wanted Felicia to wake up before he did anything else.
C’mon, Felicia, c’mon. I can’t wait much longer.

Chapter 20

After I dropped Felicia at the stables, I went into town to pick up some groceries, then drove back to the cabin. After I put everything away, I walked outside and sauntered over to the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley. I stood there with the wind and snow flurries whipping around me. It was an utterly fantastic day, but something nagged at me.

I looked in the direction of the stables, then glanced at my watch. I felt vaguely uneasy.
Something’s wrong
.
 

Once those little fingers of fear start crawling up your throat, there’s no sense trying to pretend everything’s okay. I pressed the speed dial number on my cell for Felicia’s phone. I listened to the ringing as I tried to fight back the panic. I clicked off and raced for the car.
Ripper’s with her. It’s safe here. She probably just has her cell phone turned off. Everything’s okay.

No, it isn’t!
My stomach turned to ice.
No it isn’t!

When I arrived at the stables, Jane Withers met me with a worried look. “Traveler came back,” she said.
 

“How long ago?”

“Just a few minutes!”

“Call an ambulance, and call Doctor Morris, too. Do you have a horse that’s saddled?”

“I’ll have one in a hurry.”

She had a big roan saddled in record time. As I mounted up, I said, “Call that ambulance!” and I urged the horse into a gallop.
 

Her tracks were easy to follow in the snow. I could tell where she had stopped from time to time to admire the scenery. Ripper’s tracks were everywhere. He had playfully run circles around the horse, no doubt barking up at his beloved Felicia.
 

Two miles later the trail ended. I reined the horse to a halt and looked down at the signs of a struggle—and blood in the snow. There were a lot of footprints. Someone had gone back and forth to that mine shaft several times.
 

I dismounted and ran toward the entrance.

Chapter 21

Felicia stirred, a low groan escaping her swollen lips. She opened her eyes, feeling pain explode in her head as she did so. She could hear the grinding of bones as she tried to move her jaw. Her mouth was full of blood. She ran her tongue along her teeth, feeling several of them move easily under the pressure. She tried to sit up, then realized with horror that she was tied down, spread-eagled and naked.

She frantically looked around and saw Benny Florentine, slowly taking off his clothes. He looked at her with amusement. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, Felicia,” he said. “You and me, we’re gonna have some fun.”
 

Panic flooded through her. “Please, Benny! My baby!”

Benny looked at her belly, which rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “Yeah, I been looking at your baby,” he said. “That kid ain’t ever gonna see the light of day, Felicia. You and me, we’re gonna spend some time together—as long as I want. Then I’m gonna have to kill you.”

“
No
! Good God, Benny,
my baby
!”

Benny laughed as he stepped out of his trousers. He pulled his shorts off over his feet and stood there, naked. Walking over to her, he eyed her from head to toe.
 

From where she lay, flat on her back in the sand, he looked thirty feet tall. He stepped over her and settled to his knees, resting his full weight on her stomach. She let out an agonized, deep-throated moan as he did so, more out of fear of what it was doing to her baby, than from actual pain.

He leaned forward and wrapped a big hand around each of her wrists. Looking at her with narrowed eyes, he said, “You lied to me in Las Vegas. When you kissed me, you didn’t mean it. I want you to kiss me now, and I want you to mean it.” His face came down toward hers. Her eyes went wide. She could smell his sour breath, see the drool on his lips, and his bad teeth. “Benny—”
 

He stopped her sentence with a long, slobbering kiss, while she struggled to turn her head to the left and right, a cry of anguish captured in her throat. He released her wrists and clamped a hand on each side of her head in a viselike grip. He looked at her, grinning. “Tell me you mean it!”
 

Revulsion coursed through her. “Oh God, Benny! My baby, you’re so heavy!”
 

Benny’s face flooded with anger. “Tell me you mean it, you bitch!” He kissed her again, longer this time.
 

Suddenly the helpless woman beneath him surged with rage. Benny screamed in pain, the sound captured in his throat, as her teeth bit through his lips. Frantically he tried to stand, but she held on, her teeth digging deeper. He hit her with a fist, then hit her again until she let go.