I should go home. She’s hell bent on putting herself in these situations. I’ve tried over the last damn month to get her to seek something different, something less violent, less likely to get her killed, but she seems determined to end up in a dumpster herself. Even as hard as I try, I may not be able to stop that from happening. I have duties back at the clubhouse. I can’t sit and watch her every second of every day.
My foot is tapping wildly on the floorboard for fifteen minutes before I give in and put the vehicle in drive. This is the last fucking time I exert any amount of energy on Kaci Fucking Stewart. I vow to myself that tonight is the very last night I will ever drive to Andover and wonder what kind of trouble she has gotten herself into. Knowing it’s my last trip, I park under a broken streetlight a few houses down from where her tracker indicates.
I strip out of my cut and aim for the trees beside the house. Only a couple drunk people can be seen on the porch, and as I approach, I realize this party is a lot tamer than the others she’s been to. Without missing a beat, I swing my body up into the tree at the far end of the house. Fewer people means I’ll be easily identified if I barrel through the front door, so I climb the tree until I’m close enough to jump on the small balcony.
The entry door lever is cheap, making it child’s play to break and gain access to the house. Thankfully the doors open up to an unoccupied upstairs den. The hallway leading to the staircase is lined with four doors. One is open revealing an empty room. Another is a bathroom. My pulse is pounding in my ears when I open one door, surprised to find it empty. The last door produces exactly what I think it will. Kaci is spread out on a bed, as some piece of shit lowers his head and swipes his tongue up her slit. It would be hot as fuck watching her get pleasured by another guy if it were something that she actually wanted. I don’t imagine she’s given him permission, seeing as she’s passed the fuck out.
The guy, probably stoned himself, doesn’t even notice the door open or me standing there glaring at him. I don’t have time to think or worry about my knife. I’m on him, snapping his neck in the blink of an eye. I feel cheated as I step over him and lean down to get closer to Kaci.
The scent of her pussy invades my nose, and if she were awake, I’d mount her right here and now.
“This shit ends today,” I grunt as I pull her skirt down to cover her cunt and scoop her in my arms.
Getting her out of that fucking house is harder than I expect. The climb down is ten times more difficult than the climb up empty-handed. The first scream happens as I am rounding the house and carrying Kaci to my SUV through the shadows. By the time I get her buckled and climbed inside myself, I can hear the sirens. The first flashes of red and blue appear just as I am turning off the road.
I drive out of Andover, not even bothering to stop by Kaci’s house. There isn’t a damn thing left of that life that she needs anyway.Chapter 25Kaci
My body jolts when I hear the slam of a door. Even before I open my eyes, I already know I’m not at home. A small smile plays at my lips as I take a mental inventory of my body.
The familiar headache is pounding in my skull, but other than lying in an uncomfortable position, I feel fine. The realization depresses and thrills me at the same time. A small beam of light pushes against my eyelids, forcing me to open them slightly to figure out where it’s coming from. A shadow descends a flight of stairs to my right, but it isn’t the unknown man walking toward me that makes my pulse skyrocket. I’m looking up at him from behind a metal grid. I’m caged, surrounded on all six sides by thick metal iron.
“Where am I?” I ask the man and get no response.
From the sun filtering in from up above him, I’m pretty certain I’m in a storm shelter, but they aren’t common in Massachusetts, so it terrifies me that I’ve been transported someplace different. Pine and bleach fill my nose as the guy draws closer. Bleach was only used in my previous abduction to clean up blood. My mouth dries in fear.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
He doesn’t have an accent, but that doesn’t mean anything. Several Americans worked for Deo, and it wasn’t until I was rescued that I even knew I hadn’t left Honduras.