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Grant looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “You really believe that by the book Sargent Wallace is going to allow us to investigate the most prominent men in this town? Never. You know that.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Still, what do you want me to do, learn to flog women?”
Grant sniffed and looked away.
“Hold on here. No matter what you think you know about me, I’m not going to delve into a lifestyle I have no business being in.”
“You mean something you crave?”
Montana sucked in his breath. A single night of drinking with his partner had led to secrets being told. “Drop it. Now. Get it?” When Grant gave him a hard stare, he took two long strides forward, shoving his finger in his partner’s face. “Did you hear me?” He realized he’d drawn attention from the others in the precinct.
Grant held up his arms and backed away. “Got it, partner. Just a suggestion. I don’t think we’re getting anywhere.”
“We’re playing this case by the book. Period. Understand?” Montana’s breathing was ragged. His partner was right. No one was going to talk to the police, no matter how many murders were committed. “So where do we go from here?” When Grant remained silent, he titled his head. The challenge was met with a nod.
“I say we go have a talk with Michael Cavanaugh. That’s the only lead we have at this point. I think he knows what’s happening. If what Destiny told us about his behavior is trust, he’s unraveling. Killer or no killer, he knows something about what’s going on. That’s just my gut instinct kicking in. I have his address. I asked one of the patrol officers to go by and see if he’s home.”
He nodded. Yes, he should have delved into the young man’s past, especially given what Destiny had told him. Maybe daddy-o had raised a killer. “Agreed. And we need to find Destiny. I’m going to put out and APB.”
“A little early, don’t you think?”
“No. I don’t think so.” Montana picked up the phone. “My instinct tells me she’s going to be next.” An ominous series of sensations rushed into every cell in his body. She was indeed in danger. For a few seconds he stood, frozen as a penetrating vision rolled in front of him, every detail vivid in color. He pushed back a deep seeded feeling that remained gut wrenching. How in the hell was he going to protect her from the inside?
“Okay. Then we do it your way.”
Montana said the words in a perfunctory manner, issuing the APB on a woman he cared about far too much. The words echoed then a dull buzz swam around him in a dense fog. The air was stifling as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.
Destiny was naked and tied to a cross, bloody welts crisscrossing every inch of her body. Her breasts were bound, purple in color, weights swinging from clamps attached to her nipples. Writhing, her expression was one of pure bliss.
A shadow appeared from behind and in the glow of the intense moonlight he could see what the man was holding.
A machete.
He fell against the desk and gasped. His cock was rock hard.
CHAPTER 13
My name is Maria. My name is Maria. “My name is Maria.” The words were strangled given her parched throat. She whimpered and wrapped her bloody hand around the metal bars of her cage. There was little light in the room and the stench no longer stole her breath. Death and decay meant nothing in comparison to the wrath of her Master. She was a dead woman. He would come and kill her soon, just like the wretched girls kept like mummies. Shivering, she would never forget the blackened eyes of the dozen or so women, their mouths gaping open in horror.
Maria licked her swollen lips and swayed back and forth. Every muscle ached from nonuse more than the wounds inflicted by his bullwhip. She pushed against the door of her prison. The clanging noise reminded her she was still breathing. No, she was just alive in body. Her spirit had already been crushed. How long had she been here? There was no way to tell time, no light and darkness.
Swallowing was difficult. She looked down at the small water bowl. Her Master hadn’t allowed her any liquid in at least a day. Maybe? She couldn’t be certain. She reached her fingers through the bars, flicking the tips over the steel lock. Tears rushed to her eyes. She rubbed them away, savoring the moisture. God had forsaken her. No one was coming to save the poor slut who’d entered into a depraved life. She pressed her face against the bars and allowed the tears to fall. She issued squeaks of pain then placed the back of her hand over her mouth.
Boom!
She scuttled against the back of the cage, gasping for air. He was coming. Please God. Please God. Help me.
The sound of his footsteps drew near.
Maria rocked back and forth, fighting her whimpers. She gnawed on her knuckles and the sickening taste of copper slithered down her parched throat. An eerie silence gave her a sickening realization. He was studying her in the dark. She fingered her collar and tried to remember why she’d wanted this in the first place. Confinement had once been a joyful desire. Now, she had no identity, no purpose. Perhaps she was the bad slut he’d screamed at her over and over again. She wasn’t good enough for him.
“Master?” She swallowed and tilted her head. He couldn’t have left. Suddenly his hot breath cascaded across her body. He was hovering over her. She flinched and closed her eyes, prepared for her punishment.
“My sweet slut. I’ve missed you.”
Maria lifted her head. The tone of his voice reminded her of the first night she’d met him, somehow sweeter. Kinder. She shuddered as the sound of the key being placed in the lock meant he was going to beat her. She remained numb as his hand caressed her cheek. He rubbed his thumb across her cracked lips.
“Come.” Master placed his hand around her neck, pulling her toward the front of the cage.
