Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series
Page 26
He noticed shit like that.
Where was Francine?
There he saw it, just a flash of them up there at that damn stable through one of the darkened windows, By the shape it looked to be Ralph. The stuff Frank was digging up on him was not coming up clean. A little plastic surgery did a lot to change your appearance, but not quite enough to keep the FBI at bay.
There they were, up at that damned stable, he wished he’d had torn it down with his bare hands when he had the chance! Panic spiked through him. He lit it up like a football field and headed back calling Frank on his way there.
Ralph got to her the same time the lights came on around the stable surprising them both, but Francine was the first to recover, seizing the advantage sidestepping his python like arms. It was like the sun had come up. She could hear the disbelief in his voice " What the hell?"
For the first time in a while she couldn't resist speaking, “That would be my Master, coming for you, you sick, twisted son of a bitch.” Francine turned and started for the stall again, but Ralph grabbed her from behind pulling her from behind. He was not Armin, but she had stabbed him, and the lights had shocked him, weakening him and giving her just a bit of an advantage. She twisted her supple body like she had practiced. Their struggle took them to the floor where he flipped her over on her back his hands around her neck, she grabbed his hair desperately, pulling with both of them grunting from exertion. Pulling her legs up she wrapped them around his throat squeezing, trying her best to choke him with the lower body strength she worked so hard for in the gym.
Her legs finally slipped to his waist, and then came up again, finally earning her enough leverage for her to do a leg press against his chest and shoving him clear of her. No time to enjoy the shock across his face as she finally scurried to the other side of the barn where she finally was able to recover what she was looking for. One of Karl’s hidden pistols. Pulling it from it's recess she dislodged the safety and pointed it at Ralph's shocked faced firing at him once right through the chest.
Disbelief spread across his face as he realized what had happened as he watched the second injury blossom over his white shirt. "Francine," he said, he was dying, surprise still a mask on his face "you shot me.” He was probably dying, the bullet leaving a stain across his shirt. “I thought your Master was coming.” Her breathing became more steady as she thought about what he did to her on that table, what he had wanted to do to Paris destroying the bright light in her clever eyes forever, but mostly she thought all of the women he'd taken, all the one's who'd never had hope and she felt herself go numb, everything she was disappeared into a frosty void inside of her.
"He is.” She said. “You’ll just have to deal with me first.” she said icily. She shot him one more time - in the head.
Chapter 38
Karl sprinted up to the old stable after hearing the gunshots not knowing what he’d find. Francine was standing over Ralph, he was lying on the ground, a bloody mess, she stood over him shaking. He came up behind her and felt a shudder go through her, “It’s me Angel.” She collapsed into his arms.
“Oh God...” She said, turning in his arms. He looked down at the body, Ralphs sightless eyes staring out. He called Paris.
She got there right after Frank. He watched her getting out of her car mentally armed for bear. He watched her in all of her lawyer glory preparing for whatever questions the oncoming onslaught of police might bring. She was really something that Paris, smart, determined he should not be humming “Short Skirt, Long Jacket”...
The local police who bagged Ralph and took a report citing the homicide as a clear case of self defense. They ran their yellow tape, collected their evidence, noted that Francine Anderson was very cooperative throughout the whole thing, answering all of their questions; yes, her and her attorney would be down at the station tomorrow. No, she didn't want to go to the hospital, he had slapped her. The blood was already rushing to the surface of the skin leaving a red bruise that would turn ugly that night. She’d recover, she’d probably gotten worse in self defense classes.
Ralph’s background check revealed that he was indeed a shady character making it easy to believe he did indeed lead the sex slaving ring, otherwise known as “The Organization”. Case closed - finally.
The police moved purposely out to their cars the doors closing the doors with quiet snips, engines rolling over and moving away. Then Frank, sneaking one last look at Paris before Karl walked him out to his pristine, federally issued Crown Vic, thanking him for being a good “go between”, having Ralph’s background check right there ready for the police inspection.
Then Paris giving out one of her soft perfumed hugs before making her departure promising her return tomorrow to accompany them to the station. No she would not meet them there, they would all go in together, like the family they were (Francine felt a tear come to her eye).
Karl took her upstairs, to the master bedroom, letting her lay down. The sensual drowsiness of the night was finally upon them. Francine watched the digital clock turn over her eyes growing heavy. “So this means you’ll meet me on the 21st in a couple months?”
“What in the world is happening then Karl.” More of a statement than a question.
“That’s when Margaret is planning our wedding.”
A few more moments passed.
“Is this your off the wall way of asking me to marry you?”
“I just didn't think you’d want to mess with Mistress Margaret, if you think I’m bad...” he pulled her closer. “I almost lost you Francine...” She heard it, the uncertainty. She remembered, that night in bed when she woke up, and her soul was cold.
“Of course I’ll meet you Karl.” She added smiling. “Where you go, let me go too...”
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About the Author
I am a part time writer who lives right up under our Nation’s Capital, as I have all my life. I enjoy the company of a fantastic husband and live within spitting distance of the home I grew up in. I knew my writing might be good when my husband read it outside the bathroom.
Hope you enjoy. Email me if you like at cordeliacaldwell@gmail.com.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
About the Author