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“Daddy’s gonna come, little girl,” he groans and I close my eyes and wait for my first taste of his creamy ejaculation. He digs his fingers into my scalp and cries out as he shoots his load onto my tongue and into my gaping mouth. He finishes and, still looking into his eyes, I close my mouth and swallow till the last drop.
He helps me to my feet and we get in bed where he uses his mouth and fingers to finish the job that I started on myself. Everything is so perfect that I forget the world is a dangerous place filled with killers and rapists who may be one step closer to finding me.
10
UNEXPECTED COMPANY
CHRIS
Carrie is asleep in my arms and doesn’t hear the sound of glass breaking downstairs, but I leap from my bed and grab my revolver from the holster.
“What is it?” she asks, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”
“I heard something downstairs. I need you to stay in here and lock the door behind me.”
“What? Shit. Do you think they found us?” she asks as my words jolt her back to reality.
“Stay quiet and don’t leave this room no matter what you might hear.”
“Should I call 911?”
“Not yet. It might be nothing. Just let me go and see,” I tell her but I know it isn’t nothing. Someone broke a window, and now they’re inside my cabin somewhere. They think they’re here to kill Carrie. They don’t realize that they’d have to get through me first, and that isn’t going to happen.
I slip out the door and nod at her to close and lock it. When I hear the lock engage, I hug the wall and inch toward the stairs. The first floor is completely dark, and I begin to think that maybe I was wrong about what I heard.
But as I take a step away from the wall, I see the beam of flashlight headed toward the stairs. I step back into the shadows and hold my breath as the would-be assailant ascends the stairs. He moves slowly, trying not to make a sound, but I have the advantage. I’m ready for him.
He reaches the second-floor landing, and I see that his gun is secured in the waistband of his pants so I pounce. I press my hand against his mouth to stifle his screams and choke him until he loses consciousness. I bring his lifeless body to the floor and lay him down gently. I’m sure he didn’t come here alone, and I don’t want to alert his partners.
Inching my way down the stairs, I hear movement in the kitchen and cock my weapon. If this ends in a shootout, I have one alive upstairs to question. I don’t need to worry about what happens to the rest of them.
They came here to kill a girl, which is bad enough, but it’s my girl that they’re aiming for and I will show no mercy. I tiptoe down the hall and lean against the archway that leads to the kitchen. There’s only one man in there, and he has his back to me. I move quickly and wrap my arms around him and squeeze, lifting him off the floor.
My bear hug isn’t enough to break his grasp on his weapon so I slam his hands onto the kitchen counter until the crushing of his fingers causes him to open his hand. His pistol falls into the sink with a loud clang.
I drop him back on his feet, spin him around, and punch him right between the eyes. His head tilts back and then comes forward like a pendulum, and I strike him again. This time, his nose cracks and blood pours out onto the floor. The scarlet eruption has no effect on me.
When I look at him, all I see is a threat to Carrie, and I need to eliminate it. This boy is tough. I pound on his face, my hand covered in his blood until both of his eyes swell closed, and he spits two teeth from his split and puffy lips.
“You came into my house? You came after my girl?” I shout as I continue my assault on his fractured face, but I don’t think that he can hear me. He’s unconscious on his feet. I take a step backward and he crumbles, smashing his broken jaw on my kitchen floor.
I remember the man that I left in the upstairs hallway and rush back to make sure he hasn’t woken up. I don’t want him running for the door or worse, breaking in on Carrie. He’s lying right where I left him so I go to the bedroom and knock on the door.
“Carrie, it’s me. Open up,” I call out to her.
She opens the door and looks down at my blood-covered hand. Grabbing it, she cries, “Are you alright?”
“It’s not my blood. I need my handcuffs and some zip ties,” I reply as I pull my cuffs out of my pants pocket.
“Should I call 911 now?” she asks.
“Not yet. I need to question them before some backwoods cops haul them off. This isn’t my jurisdiction,” I explain and move back out to the hall to cuff the first man.
Carrie comes out behind me. Looking down at the man on the floor, she exclaims, “Whoa. What’s the other guy look like?”
“Worse,” I answer and slap the man in the face until he moans and opens his eyes. “On your feet, asshole.”
I drag the dirtbag down the stairs and sit him on the kitchen floor beside his bloody friend. Then, I rifle through the pantry and locate the bag of zip ties I bought to use to repair the back fence. I wrap one around each of the bloody man’s hands and tie them together with a third. I remove his weapon from the sink and set both of their handguns on the counter.
