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Chapter 1
Seven years later
Spike
The deep hunger within is consuming me. I need to capture another girl. Another pure girl that looks just like her - the woman who tossed me to the curb when she realized I was different. When she realized that evil shone through her little angel’s eyes. I didn’t fit into their perfect lifestyle. I didn’t follow the rules of society, and I had no intentions of fitting in. I knew I was different. I was unique. I was special. But I also liked myself the way I was.
I need to quench this deep, twisting pain in my stomach. This pain that keeps me awake at night, planning the games for my next victim, imagining what I’ll do to them. The very thought excites and enthralls me.
I’ve driven up and down past the airport entrance all night, but sitting in the shadows, I feel defeated. I’ve been on the lookout for my next possible victim, but nothing captures my attention. Until I spot her. She turns my head slowly. It’s like I’m in a slow-motion clip. She’s a beautiful brunette. She can’t be very old. Older than I usually go for, but beggars can’t be choosers. I see her stamping her foot as she can’t hail a cab. Her frustration is evident for all to see. She’s a feisty one. My feisty little one.
I pull out of my space from the shadows and drive a few feet past her. I pull up to the curb and get out eagerly. When her eyes meet mine, my heart pounds in my chest, my palms go sweaty, and my dick stirs to life in my pants. She’s so much prettier up close.
She’s perfect.
I open my trunk and turn to her. “You need a ride?” I ask cheerily.
Please say yes.
She smiles brightly at me, showing me her perfect white teeth. She rattles off some address she’s meant to be going to, but I’m not listening to that part. I’m not the slightest bit interested in where she wants to go. I already know where I’m taking her. I put her luggage in the trunk, climb into the driver’s seat, and thank the Lord that she’s mine.
She’s in my cab.
Tonight hasn’t been a waste after all.
I watch her in my mirror for a moment. She blows warm air into her hands delicately. She’s stunningly beautiful. Just like her. The one who has plagued my thoughts since I was a child.The one who makes me do these things to these girls.
“Been on holiday?” I ask her.
“Work. I was an aid worker in third world countries. I’m just returning home from Africa to surprise my family.”
It’s like I’ve hit the jackpot with this one. Little Miss Goody Two Shoes thinks she’s good, working with kids. Well, she’s about to wish she stayed in whatever country she just arrived back from, because I’m about to break her in ways she didn’t think possible.
I drive in the opposite direction from where she thinks she’s going. It’s only a matter of time before she realizes we’re not going where she dictated to me when I stopped my cab. I don’t take orders from anyone, least of all from a little bitch that I own.
“Where are we? This isn’t the way to my address.” A little voice pierces my ears.
I watch her in the mirror, rummaging through her bag to find what I presume is her cell.
“I’m taking you home.” I snigger.
Looking at her through the mirror is invigorating. I feel powerful and alive. She makes me crazy with need. I want to taste every inch of her, inside and out.
“This isn’t the way to my home. Just pull over. I’ll find my own way there.” Her panic picks up and her breathing becomes heavier.
She pulls out her cell, and I deliberately drive over a tree stump, making her bang her head off the chair in front of her, dropping her cell to the ground. I smile. Hearing her shriek with fear is the biggest boost to my endorphins.
“You are home, little one.”
I pull up outside my little piece of heaven and get out of the cab. I take in a deep breath of the beautiful night air.
“Let’s get this party started.” I laugh.
I open her door and drag her out of her seat. The time for being nice is over. This is my game now, and I’m in charge.
My one rule: Don’t play nice.
She falls down onto her knees, giving me the perfect view of her delectable backside. I push my groin against her ass painfully hard. I need her now. I can’t wait. I lift strands of her hair and smell it. The vanilla shampoo turns my stomach. She needs to be dirty. She’s too clean. She smells just like her.
“We’re going to have some fun. You’ll like that, won’t you, little one?”
She elbows me deep in the stomach and I fall off her, gasping for breath.
Fuck! She’s going to get away.
That’s the only encouragement I need to get up, pain and all, and catch her. Now I’m seeing red. No one fights me or hurts me. No one. Not anymore. I throw her down to the ground harder than I think is possible for me. I wrap my hand in her hair and grasp it tightly, banging her head off the ground once, twice, three times. Her limp body lies on the ground, moaning. This is how I like my girls - complying.
“And this, my little one, is just the beginning of our beautiful story.”
