Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [55]
He drove off, heart racing, his prize in the trunk.
She was unconscious when he got home, which helped. No one would be able to hear her, and it was dark enough now that no one could see him carry her inside.
He stripped her naked and tied her to the bed. He removed the gag, then glued it on. She stirred a bit, but didn’t open her eyes.
And then he watched.
“You’re so beautiful, Becca,” he said softly, almost reverently.
Becca and Angie were completely different. Angie had brown hair she’d dyed blond, big tits, and a tattoo. She was coarse and crude, and posted disgusting things online for everyone in the world to see that she was a slut.
Becca was pure, smooth, small breasts and a slender body. Sweet and kind, always smiled at him. He wondered how it would feel, how different than Angie. He would be gentle with Becca because she wasn’t the slut Angie was. He would be kind and considerate. Like he would have been with Randi if she hadn’t said no.
“They always say no.”
The voice of his father echoed in his mind. His dad hadn’t been talking to him. He’d been talking to his mother, but he’d been eavesdropping.
He’d been nine at the time and his father had just come home. He’d been in prison for rape. He hadn’t known what that meant when his father first left, but over the next four years he’d learned exactly what it meant. It was all his mother ever talked about.
“Why don’t you just pay a fucking whore?” his mother had shouted at his dad.
“I don’t pay for it.”
“You just paid four years for it!”
He was in the living room watching television, but he heard everything because his parents hadn’t closed their bedroom door.
“You liked it last time. You love it when I tell you all about it.”
“You’re going to be thrown in jail again.”
His father laughed, a loud bellow, and then there were other sounds. The bed creaking, slaps, moans. His parents were having sex. He listened to the sounds of sex outside the bedroom door.
“Do you want to watch next time?” his father asked.
He hadn’t realized his father had seen him. He stood in the doorway, his jeans unbuttoned.
He shook his head but his father laughed and ruffled his head. “Sure you do, kid. You have to learn somehow.”
And his dad walked out of the house.
His mother came out of the bedroom in a robe and kicked him. “Fucking pervert, just like your father. You’re going to end up in prison, too, mark my words, unless you listen to me. Stay away from women who say they want it. They’re lying, and they’ll whip around and cry rape the minute your back is turned.”
Not his women. His women couldn’t cry rape even if they wanted to.
His women couldn’t talk.
He stared at Becca. He’d already decided to only keep her for twenty-four hours. He’d kept Angie for too long and it had ruined his excitement. The clock was ticking. It was after midnight.
“Wake up.” He tapped her. She moaned but didn’t open her eyes.
He slapped her and her eyes opened. Like a bug pinned to a board, she squirmed, realized she was trapped, and fought harder.
“It’s time, Becca.”
She tried to scream.
SIXTEEN
CARINA AND NICK ARRIVED together at the police station early Thursday morning. They didn’t talk much on the drive over. Carina was sure Nick was uncomfortable about having his brother brought in, even willingly, for questioning in a capital murder case.
Her? She didn’t want to talk for fear of saying something stupid. Something like, “Why were you in my dreams last night?”
As soon as her head had hit the pillow, she’d been out. And dreaming about Nick Thomas, his hard body, his too-sexy-for-words cowboy hat. If Nick was an example of the type of men who lived in Montana, maybe she should put in for a transfer.
She’d woken up rested for the first time all week. She didn’t remember every detail of her dream—probably good, lest she blush when she saw Nick—but in her dream she had kissed him and he had pulled her into his arms. Then the way dreams go, they were both naked in her bed and he was about to make love to her . . .
She cleared her mind, focused on the task at hand. “Ready?