Four (Count to Ten Book 4)

by Jane Blythe

  She was just starting back down the hall to the bedroom when an arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her backward and pinning her against a hard chest.

  Immediately, her training kicked in. Rose rammed her head backward, connecting with the man’s face, getting him squarely in the nose.

  The man cursed and let her go.

  Rose spun around and headed for the door. But the man recovered quickly and grabbed her again.

  Reaching for a glass vase on the table beside her, Rose swung it at him. It connected with his shoulder and shattered.

  The man growled another curse and his grip on her loosened.

  Taking advantage, Rose twisted sideways and managed to spin away from him. Unfortunately, he wasn't as stunned as she had hoped. He caught hold of her arm, and as she lunged forward, her bare foot came down on a glass shard. With adrenalin pumping through her body she barely felt it.

  Stumbling, she lost her balance and landed hard on the wooden floorboards. Her hands and knees took the brunt of the fall and Rose could feel the glass slicing through her flesh.

  Wondering where her backup was, she darted forward, hoping to regain her footing before the man, who had fallen with her, recovered and was on her again. But he recovered quicker than she’d hoped. His weight suddenly flung itself against her, flattening her down against the floor as he straddled her back.

  Rose was thrashing frantically beneath him when voices and footsteps suddenly filled the air. The next thing she knew, someone had tackled the man off her.

  “Rose?” Jack dropped down at her side. “Are you okay?” he rolled her over onto her back.

  “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and rested back against the floorboards, willing her wildly beating heart to slow.

  “I see blood,” Jack said doubtfully.

  “It’s nothing. A few scratches,” she assured him.

  “Someone call an ambulance,” Jack called over his shoulder.

  She opened her eyes. “No, I'm fine. I really am. I don’t need an ambulance.” Rose pushed herself up so she was sitting.

  “Are you sure? Where are you hurt?”

  “I'm sure. It’s my foot and my hands and knees; I really only need a couple of Band-Aids.” Rose tried to stand, but Jack preempted her by scooping her up. She wrapped a startled arm around his shoulders. “Jack, this really isn’t necessary,” she protested.

  Jack merely carried her to the couch and set her down. “Stay put while I get something to clean and dress those cuts,” he ordered. Then added with a glare, “I mean it; stay put.”

  Rose barely resisted the urge to say, ‘yes sir.’ Instead, she merely nodded and glanced toward the man who had attacked her. He was now lying on the floor on his stomach, his hands cuffed behind his back. He was shouting something, but Rose couldn’t make out what it was. Adrenalin was slowly ebbing out of her body, leaving her feeling shaky and tired. She rested back against the soft sofa cushions and let her eyes fall closed, concentrating on calming herself.

  “Sure you're okay?” Jack’s voice rumbled beside her.

  Opening her eyes again, all she could manage was a nod. Although she’d thought she could empathize with what Paige and Sofia had gone through when they’d thought someone was about to end their life, she hadn’t realized until right now just how little she really had understood.

  Her partner studied her through calm blue eyes as he gently bathed the cuts on her knees. “Does it feel like there’s any glass in any of your wounds?” he asked.

  She gave her head a shake in the negative.

  Lifting her foot, he propped it on his knee as he washed the slightly deeper cut. “You're not staying at your place alone tonight,” he announced.

  “Jack,” she objected, “I'm really okay.”

  He wrapped a bandage around her foot. “I can take you to Paige’s, if you want,” was all he said.

  “No way,” she insisted immediately. “This will completely freak her out. She already doesn’t sleep. I'm not going to go to her house in the middle of the night and tell her what happened. I know she’s going to find out, but not tonight.”

  “Then you're staying with me,” he informed her in a voice that brokered no argument.

  Nonetheless, she offered one anyway. “I can stay at a hotel.”

  “What would be the point of that?” Jack set her foot down and reached for her hands. “You'd still be alone, wouldn’t you? The point was you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

  The truth was, Rose didn’t want to stay alone tonight. But that embarrassed her. She was a cop; she knew she was capable of taking care of herself; she knew her job required her to put herself into dangerous situations, and she knew that she had deliberately put herself into a dangerous situation tonight. She knew all of those things. And yet, she was still shaken. That man could have killed her. If he’d had a weapon, she would have been dead before Jack and the others could get to her.

  She wasn't just shaken, she was drained as well. Bordering on exhausted. She needed to sleep and she knew she wasn't going to sleep alone in her house tonight. The idea of not being alone was tempting, yet still she resisted it.

  “Jack,” it came out as somewhat of a whimper.

  “Yeah, I know.” He finished applying bandages to her hands. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. Can you walk?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly before Jack could pick her up again.

  “We’re going to my place,” her partner warned as he took her elbow and helped her stand.

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  As Jack helped her limp to the door, she cast another glance at the handcuffed man on the apartment floor. The night had been successful. They had their guy. No one else was going to wind up dead or injured. Hopefully, that thought would help her sleep.

  JULY 22nd

  1:19 A.M.

  Sometimes, Laura wondered if she would ever sleep properly again.

  She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the night before she had been kidnapped.

  For eleven years now, she had been lucky to grab a couple of hours of sleep a night. And even then, most nights her sleep was plagued with bad or at least unsettling dreams. When she got really tired, she would usually pass out from exhaustion and sleep through the night, which gave her enough reserves of sleep to last a couple of weeks until once again her overtired mind would crash.

  She had slept even less than usual the last few nights.

  Ever since her apartment building erupted into chaos.

  Something else had happened here last night.

  She didn’t know what. She could have called Connor to ask him, but she hadn’t really wanted to know. She was regretting asking about the first two crimes here. She didn’t want to know that someone had been murdered here in her building. And she certainly didn’t want to know that some poor woman had been raped.

  Against her will, images began to flood her mind.

  Herself lying almost naked on the ground.

  The dry scratchy grass beneath her.

  Strong hands holding her down.

  The big, empty sky above her.

  A man forcing himself inside her. Oblivious to her cries of pain and her pleas for him to leave her alone.

  The wind, the rain, the sunshine—all seemed amplified against her bare flesh.

  Then the man holding her down took his turn.

  Despite her struggles, she couldn’t get free.

  Two of them against her had stacked the odds firmly in their favor.

  She didn’t stand a chance.

  As quickly as they had come, the memories fled.

  She wasn't out in the woods anymore.

  Now she was back in her own home, tucked in under her blankets, in her bed.

  The flashbacks left her breathless. Like they always did.

  Scrunching her eyes closed, Laura put all her energy into calming her ragged breaths. Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. She rarely did. There was nev
er anyone here to see her cry, so she usually did it openly and with abandon.

  Giving up on sleep for another night, Laura headed for the kitchen. She’d make some cocoa, read a book, and hopefully get tired enough to doze a little later in the day.

  She filled a saucepan with milk and set it on the stove, stirring it absently. Her mind kept darting back to the past. If she could have one wish, it would be to erase her memories so she never had to think about what happened to her ever again.

  Scratch that. If she could have one wish, it would be to erase what happened altogether. Those men never would have grabbed her. Never would have raped her. Never would have hurt her. None of it would ever have happened.

  Too bad there was no way to make that happen.

  Instead, she was stuck with her reality.

  And no amount of wishing was going to change that.

  She was stuck with her past, just like she was stuck with a future of flashbacks and nightmares, memories and never-ending fear.

  It wasn't fair, but then, life wasn't.

  Realizing her milk had started boiling, Laura reached for it. Unfortunately, she was still shaky from the flashback. She lost her grip on the saucepan and tipped it sideways, sending the boiling liquid sloshing all over her hand.

  The sudden burning threw her mind back in time once again.

  She lay on the ground.

  The day was warm.

  He sat on her stomach.

  The other one held her arms down.

  They were both laughing.

  The one sitting on her pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his shirt.

  The one holding her arms placed his knees on them, freeing up his hands and he retrieved a lighter from his pants.

  His knees dug painfully into her biceps as he leaned forward to light the cigarette.

  Holding the glowing cigarette in one hand, the man on top of her pushed up her bra with his other.

  Laura knew what was going to happen before they did it.

  Still, she wasn't prepared for the horrible sting that came when he pressed the tip of the cigarette against the tender flesh of her breast.

  Despite her best intentions not to scream again, since she knew they liked it, a scream was ripped from her lips.

  “Is everything all right in there?”

  The voice and the knocking on her door that accompanied it brought her back to the present.

  Someone was at her door.

  Panic had her heart thumping painfully in her chest, her breathing quickened almost immediately to a pace that had her worrying she was going to hyperventilate.

  “Hello? This is Officer Byrns. Is everything all right in there? I heard screaming.”

  The doorknob rattled as the officer obviously tried to enter.

  Forcing herself to calm down enough to speak, Laura hurried to the door. She didn’t want him breaking in here, and if she didn’t offer an explanation and assurances that she was all right, then she feared he would.

  “I'm fine,” she said through the door; her voice trembled but there was nothing she could do about that. “I just had a nightmare.”

  “Do you need us to come in?” the cop’s voice had softened in sympathy.

  “No, I'm okay,” she assured him quickly. The last thing she needed right now was to have someone in her apartment.

  “If you're sure.” The cop still sounded doubtful.

  “I'm sure,” she said firmly. “I'm sorry I startled you.”

  “No problem, ma’am, that’s what we’re here for. Good night, and hopefully you don’t have more bad dreams.”

  “Thank you,” Laura whispered. She waited at the door until she heard footsteps receding. Then she leaned wearily against it.

  That had been a close call.

  Not only did she not like being around people anymore, but she particularly didn’t like being around cops. It wasn't so much that she disliked cops, more that she had spent so much time around them in the days and weeks following her attack, being asked the same questions repeatedly, being made to tell her story so many times it had nearly killed her. She could happily go the rest of her life without ever having to see one again.

  They were all over building, though.

  Connor had called her earlier to give her a heads up that the police were going to be patrolling the building over the next few days given the recent spate of assaults.

  Laura hoped they could find this guy before anyone else got hurt. She didn’t ever want anyone to go through what she had.

  Glancing down as she went to push herself away from the door, she was surprised to see her hand red and already starting to blister. Laura had forgotten that she’d burned it.

  Feeling drained, she headed for the bathroom to soak her hand in cold water and then dress the burn.

  * * * * *

  4:31 A.M.

  They must have thought he was an idiot.

  Well, the police were going to find out they were completely and utterly mistaken.

  He was not an idiot.

  Far from it.

  Their silly little switcheroo was not going to work.

  He’d been watching the building and noticed immediately when Audrey Nichols had departed. He knew her schedule, knew she never usually went out in the evening after she returned from work.

  It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that the police had caught on enough to stake out apartment 4J.

  It had been a risk, albeit a calculated one, to work up the apartments like that. But he had made the decision to focus on her rather than the police and what they may or may not think.

  He was going to have to make his move soon.

  Much longer and the police would figure out who she was. And once they did, they were going to spirit her away and lock her up some place where he wouldn’t be able to get to her.

  He would not allow that to happen.

  This time, no one was going to take her away from him.

  There was just one more thing he had to do before he was ready to get her.

  Since the police were busy pretending to be Audrey Nichols, he had had to alter his plans slightly. Actually, they were making things easier for him. Now he wouldn’t have to worry about being careful to avoid police detection like he had last night when he’d broken into Jessica Elgar’s apartment. Now he could just take his time and enjoy.

  Speaking of such, he parked his van close to Audrey's motel room and climbed out.

  Moving confidently, as though he belonged here, he headed straight for her door. He didn’t want to stand out should anyone see him, not that there was much chance of that—the place was deserted. Which, given the fact that it was only four-thirty in the morning, seemed completely reasonable.

  At the door, he fiddled with the lock then swung it open. It always amazed him that most people didn’t take their safety seriously. Didn’t they know how easy it was to pick a lock? Obviously not, or people would make sure they added deadbolts and safety chains. The fact that most people didn’t care about how safe their homes were certainly made his job easier most of the time.

  Except with the one person he wanted to get.

  If she wasn't such a safety nut, he would have just grabbed her and been done with it. Still, what he’d been doing in her apartment building must be getting to her by now. Pushing her to the edge of what she could bear. And when she reached her limit, she’d be forced to leave that apartment. And then he’d get her.

  He stepped inside and quickly closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to wake Audrey Nichols until he was ready for her. He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark room and get his bearings.

  Although he was all for fun, he wanted to do this as quickly and efficiently as he could. There would be plenty of time later to play.

  Reaching into his bag, which still held all the essentials for breaking and entering and restraining victims, he pulled out the bottle of chloroform and studied it. Did he want to knock her out? Sometimes, that really dulled the
excitement. But then on the flip side, an unconscious victim was safer to transport than a conscious one. And unlike his other victims, Audrey Nichols was coming with him.

  This time he wasn't killing her, nor was he leaving her behind.

  Audrey was going to represent the final piece of his message.

  She was the last base to cover.

  This should be enough to send her running right out of that apartment and into his waiting arms.

  He refocused himself on the task at hand. Chloroform or no chloroform? He had his gun on him, so he could do either. And of course, he had plastic zip ties and tape. So, he could scare her into submission and then restrain her and throw her in the back of his van. It was what he’d prefer to do.

  But of course, it was always a risk.

  There were no guarantees that she would comply. Sometimes scared people did stupid things. Even with the threat of the gun, she could try to make a run for it. And then he might be forced to kill her. He didn’t want to, but, of course, he would if it came down to it and she gave him no choice. That would be a hassle, though, because then he’d have to move on to apartment 5J, and a whole family lived there. He didn’t really enjoy hurting kids, and abducting an entire family would be a lot more hassle than it was worth. Especially given the police presence at the building.

  Still, the thrill of taking her while she was conscious was enticing.

  What the heck, he decided, taking risks was what made life worthwhile.

  Setting the bottle of chloroform back into his bag, he pulled out his gun instead. Then he crept toward the bed. The woman must be a cold sleeper. Despite the warm night, she was under several layers of blankets.

  He sat on the bed beside her.

  Audrey Nichols was pretty. Not as pretty as Judith Barclay, but still pretty nonetheless. She had smooth black skin, large dark eyes, and thick brown hair that she obviously straightened.

  They were going to have some fun together.

  Maybe he’d even keep Audrey alive long enough to meet her. Maybe he’d make her watch him kill Audrey. Show her what he was going to do to her once he was finished playing with her. He wanted to take his time, though. There was no need to rush. He had all the time in the world to enjoy himself. And enjoy himself, he would. With eleven long years to fantasize about everything he was going to do to her when he finally got his hands on her again, he was going to make the most of it.