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Tangled

Page 33

by Uc Amalu, Jr

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  From across the street, he watched as she picked up the

  last couple of pavers from the ground beside the front

  steps. Just as she had done with the previous few dozen,

  she threw them into the wheelbarrow and pushed them

  toward the small gate underneath the front porch. She set

  the barrow down and began stacking the last of the

  pavers inside the small alcove. Her task was almost done

  when she stumbled over the handle of the barrow and

  dropped a paver, which landed squarely on her toe before

  hitting the ground. A stifled scream escaped her and she

  hopped around on one foot while massaging the other.

  Still cursing and wincing in agony, she threw the last

  paver into the crawl space and slammed the door. Leaving

  the barrow where it was, she limped her way to the front

  porch and sat on the steps where she continued to rub

  her toe.

  A smile of delight spread across his face. He was enjoying

  her pain. A woman such as she deserved to be in pain,

  just as the one before her had deserved to feel it. He

  bounced from one foot to the other anxiously, his

  excitementbeginning to build. The fingers of his left hand

  toyed with the edge of his coat, twisting it up tightly

  before flicking it free, ready to do it all over again. In his

  right pants pocket, his other hand caressed the steely

  coolness hidden there. It felt so strong, so sure of its

  purpose, the power of it sent tingles down his spine.

  His eyes returned to the woman on the porch- but she

  was gone. The excitement he felt stalled for a brief

  moment before he turned his attentions away from the

  house and crossed the road. His feet silently carried him

  along the driveway beside the house until he was

  standing beside a camphor laurel tree; its thick branches

  camouflaged him from the prying eyes of her neighbours.

  He climbed up onto its trunk and steadied himself

  among the limbs; he now had a bird’s eye view into her

  bedroom window. There, between the partially drawn

  curtains, he caught sight of her again. She was sitting on

  the edge of the bed, her hands busily working a hair tie

  around her dusty blonde locks. Perhaps she was running

  a bath as he could hear the sounds of water running. His

  breathing grew heavier the closer he crept to the window.

  With such intensity he watched her, he was sure she

  would feel the weight of his stare upon her. Desperation

  to get closer nagged at him, but he dared not ruin his

  surprise too early. All would fall into place soon; very

  soon. For now he just wanted to observe her, try to make

  sense of her. Most of all, he wanted to be close to her and

  know her inside and out. She would make an excellent

  test subject for him, another case study for him to gain

  the expertise he craves.

  She got up from the bed and crossed the room,

  disappearing through a doorway on the far side of the

  room. When she returned she was holding a telephone

  handset to her ear, he could see her lips moving and was

  barely able to make out muffled words and laughter. The

  conversation lasted less than thirty seconds before she

  hit the end button and threw the handset onto the bed. It

  bounced once or twice from the spring of the mattress.

  His eyes followed her; she was peeling her clothes off as

  she walked towards the sound of the running water. First

  the pale, mauve T-shirt, then the black, long legged

  shorts. Next she undid the clasp of her dainty, white bra.

  It fell to the floor leaving her beautiful bust exposed. Oh

  how he loved their busts, so full and supple… ripe for the

  picking. All that was left were her high cut, black panties.

  She truly was a beautiful creature, or at least she would be

  after he had performed his magic on her.

  He couldn’t help but allow himself the pleasure of

  admiring her body. Her hair was pulled loosely back from

  her face and those brown eyes, oh how they looked so full

  of contentment. He followed the contours of her body

  downwards past her slender neck and wholesome

  breasts, coming to rest on her stomach. He took note of

  how it was not yet swollen, but not completely flat either;

  she would be starting to show signs soon. Or at least she

  would be if he were to let her…

  His hand tightened around the instrument in his pocket,

  its coolness had turned red hot, beckoning him to show

  her its purpose. To make her feel its power and most

  importantly, his prowess. The tingles running through his

  body intensified causing him to shake with anticipation.

  He could almost feel the smooth-ness of her flesh, smell

  her fear, and taste the salty tears she would shed when

  she begged for her life and that of her unborn. But he

  would not listen; her cries would fall upon deaf ears. He

  would do his job and do it well, showing those in the field

  how skilled he is.

  She had disappeared from his sight now. His heart began

  to beat faster; the blood rushed through his veins,

  pumping the adrenalin through his body at a rapid rate.

  All the planning, the waiting and watching was finally

  leading up to the climax he yearned for. He pulled his

  hand from his pocket, checked for the doused piece of

  cloth in his carry bag and edged closer to the window. His

  nimble fingers felt along its ledge, quietly prying it loose.

 

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