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Like he was waiting for me to give him permission.
He was a monster and a murderer. His father was a rapist, so he was probably a rapist too. I knew he wanted me, knew he wanted to fuck me then and there. But he remained still, not crossing the line.
“You won’t rape me.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, darkening in intensity.
“Why?”
He turned away from the bed and headed to the door. “I’ll be back for you in an hour.”
My heart started to race. “You’re going to do it?”
He turned back to me, his hand on the doorknob. “I told you I would, Vanessa. It doesn’t matter how much I respect you. It doesn’t matter how attracted I am to you. This is bigger than both of us. I will kill you—and I will enjoy it.”
The door opened an hour later. He stood in the same clothes, his expression dark.
I stayed on the bed, too scared to move.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling my hands shake in terror. The hour of my doom had struck. There was nothing I could do to avoid this. I wished my family were coming to save me like last time, but they had no idea I was missing.
My mother would never recover from this.
My death would make my father cry.
Now I wanted to beg for my life, not so I could keep living, but so they didn’t have to suffer.
“How are you going to do it?”
He stayed in the doorway, staring me down with the same indifference. “It’s better if you don’t know.”
I pulled my knees to my chest, my stomach tight. My breathing increased, and now I struggled to remain brave.
He walked to the bed, his powerful arms swinging by his sides. Twice my size and exuding power, he was an opponent I couldn’t run from. I couldn’t outsmart him either. I tried to defeat him so many times, but it never worked. He leaned down and scooped his arms underneath me before he lifted me.
I let him take me.
He carried me out of the bedroom, treating me like a feather. One arm was underneath my knees while the other supported my shoulders.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder, not wanting to see where we were going. I clung to him like a woman clung to her lover, finding comfort in my killer’s arms.
It was so fucked up.
He carried me downstairs and into a room that was covered with blue plastic. A camera was set up in the corner, and there was a body bag to the side where he would put my corpse once he was done.
I started to shake harder.
He set me on the ground then pulled my shirt over my head.
I didn’t fight it, no longer caring.
He undid my bra and stared at my tits once the bra was gone. He paused to look at me, to stare at my olive skin. He examined my neck, my collarbone, and then dragged his eyes down my stomach to the top of my jeans. He popped the button then pulled down the zipper. He moved to his knees as he peeled away my clothes, pulling my jeans down my legs until I was just in my panties.
He grabbed my hips and rested his face against my stomach, desire oozing from his pores. He kissed the bottom of my belly and then peeled my thong away before he pulled it down my legs. He kissed my thighs until my panties were at my ankles.
This was how I was going to die.
Naked. Alone. Afraid.
I deserved better.
He kept my panties and stuffed them into his pocket, obviously to use later.
When I was dead.
“On your knees.” He rose to his full height, turning dark and sinister. The affection he just showed me was long gone.
I stayed upright in defiance.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
I slowly moved to my knees.
He came behind me then locked my wrists together with cable ties.
Now I was bound and helpless, naked on a large plastic sheet, so my blood wouldn’t damage his beautiful house.
He walked past me toward the camera.
I didn’t want to die weak. I wanted to keep my head held high, to pass from this life with respect and dignity. But I wanted to try one more thing. “Take me. I know you want me, Bones. Take me and keep me.”
He stopped at the camera but didn’t turn around.
It was a long shot. But he just kissed my legs and my tummy, and that wasn’t something he would do with any victim. He may be a killer, but he was also a man. He had urges, and if he kept my panties, that meant he wanted me.
He wanted me in the flesh.
