AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oh, she understands, all right. All of her fears, the ones that have been hidden just beneath the surface of her consciousness, are rising to the surface, causing her heart to pound with dread, her hope to disintegrate.
I see it. Have witnessed it before in this very room with its twin bed drape
d in the hand-pieced quilt Mother created over half a century ago. It seems fitting, somehow, that some of my guests have slept under Mother’s handiwork. Theresa had mentioned how “beautiful” it was, the detail “intricate.”
If Theresa had only known that those very hands that had so lovingly cut and pieced the tiny scraps together had also shown a great ability to slap, or flick a lit cigarette, with equal ease.
This room Elyssa has come to think of as hers belonged to me, and now, time is slipping past. It’s been a busy morning already and it’s not yet light. After taking care of my other business for the police, I returned for Elyssa. When I entered her room she played coy, as I knew she would. Mentioned that it was now “tomorrow.”
For an answer, I ordered her to strip off her clothes.
Oh, the eager anticipation, the hope of some sort of sexual connection; her eyes sparked with it. But it was extinguished quickly when I drew my hunting knife from its sheath.
My expression, too, altered at the same time. I know there isn’t a speck of kindness in my eyes now. No hint of interest. “Just do it,” I tell her firmly and
CHOSEN TO DIE
323
the knife in my hand, my favorite long-bladed weapon, one which can gut and skin a deer so smoothly and easily, convinces her not to balk. Tears begin to sheen in her large eyes. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.” Her voice tremors. She knows.
I catch her first fleeting, furtive glance around her room, as she contemplates her odds of escape.
“No joke.”
“But—”
“Get on with it!”
“Please, I don’t understand what you’re doing. You know I like you.” She was supplicating now, her hands in front of her, fingers wide, offering herself like the sacrificial whore I’ve always known she is. “I could . . . we could . . .” She swallows hard and motions toward the small bed with its fading quilt in an awkward, desperate attempt at seduction. I usually play along for a bit, but this morning her attempts to bed me are irritating. There is no time. Because of that bitch Pescoli I’ve stepped up my game, already put the gears into motion. I need to make a real statement, get the attention of the stupid dickwads at the sheriff’s department.
“Strip, now, Elyssa.” I waggle the knife a bit. Menacingly. She gasps and throws a hand to her own throat.
“I don’t want to use this,” I assure her. Firmly. The knife blade glints with the light from the lantern I’ve set on the small bedside table.
This isn’t a lie. Cutting her isn’t part of my plan. But I will. If I have to.
Wild-eyed, she slowly begins to peel off her clothes, taking her time, trying and failing to ap-324 Lisa Jackson
pear seductive, as if unsure that this isn’t some kind of sexual fantasy I’m playing out.
She tugs her sweater over her head and looks at me. Tosses her hair.
God, she is pathetic.
I point the tip of the knife at her bra. “Keep going.”
Slowly, painstakingly, she reaches behind her back and unhooks it, letting the scrap of red lace fall to the floor. Then she cocks her head and looks at me that same, silly way, her lips curved into a littlegirl pout as her breasts are finally exposed. As if she, naughtily, has given me what I want.
I’ve seen her breasts before, of course, and they are gorgeous. Big enough to be noticed; a “handful,” I’ve heard others say. With dark areolas, darker than most.
I’m almost tempted.
Almost.
“You like?” she said, breathily. Proud of those big mounds with the dark nipples. Clumsily, she runs a finger over her stiff nipple, then drags it upward, over her throat to touch her lips. Her index finger disappears into her mouth and she makes a sucking sound.
So contrived. So predictable.
