by Saul, Jonas
“No, no …” Jackie whimpered and stepped away from the door.
“Why no, Jackie? After six months, you’re used to me by now.”
“Not at this hour. You never come in the afternoon.”
“Am I required to check with you when I want to alter the schedule?”
The lock clicked, the cell door opened. He eased it open all the way. At any other moment, he knew she would be pretty. One hundred and thirty pounds, tanned skin, nice cup size and long, pretty hair. Two, three months ago, she was. He had enjoyed her labors. But now she was dirty, unclean. What Elmore did with grime was wipe it out.
“No. I just … what I mean is … I’m scared.”
“It’ll be okay, Jackie. After today, we are done here.”
It must be something akin to how cows feel when they’re being led to the slaughter house. An innate sense of impending doom. They know their fate and are powerless to stop it. In Jackie’s eyes, she knew her time had come. But Jackie wasn’t a cow. She acted more like a squirrel stuck in a corner as a large attacker advanced. The violence he detected coming off her in waves surprised him.
He stood three feet from her when she raised both her hands to ward him off.
“No, please, I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Nothing in Elmore that would be considered rational heard a word she had said. All he felt, all he saw and all he desired was an end to her. An end to the fake relationship she had made him conduct with her. An end to the wondering if someone would knock on his front door looking for her. An end. That’s what Elmore needed now.
Jackie moved to the back wall as Elmore edged closer. He brought his hands to the lip of the underwear he wore and slowly lowered the pair to his ankles. Now with his member exposed, it hardened further with anticipation.
Then Jackie sprung. Off the wall she flew at him with the violence of Tie Domi in his prime.
Elmore hadn’t expected it. She caught him off balance. He faltered and stepped backwards until he hit the bars.
Jackie’s small fist smacked him in the face, then the mouth. His response delayed, she ran past him and headed for the stairs, her flesh barely bouncing as she’d lost weight in the time she’d spent with Elmore.
He let her go, wiping at the blood that had started to seep from his split lip.
“This is going to cost you,” Elmore shouted.
Jackie made it to the top of the stairs. What she didn’t know was that Elmore had locked the metal door behind him and the only way out was with the key he held in his pocket.
He picked up his underwear, slid them back on and stepped from the cell. Pain made him angry, not horny. Jackie still had to be removed, but now it wouldn’t be because she had made him filthy with her feminine touch, but because she had hurt him.
“It’s time to pay for your misdeeds.”
“Noooo,” Jackie screamed from the top of the stairs.
“Stupid bitch,” he said as he looked at his table of tools. A handsaw, a screwdriver, and many other devices she could’ve used as a weapon sat out in the open. Instead, she had run for the stairs. He knew it was the female condition. Just being born was enough to fuck them up.
He chose the Craftsman screwdriver. If he wasn’t going to screw her, he’d let his tool do it for him.
Jackie remained at the top of the stairs, shivering, crying, her arms wrapped around her nakedness.
It was a sight he would remember. Jackie had served him well.
“Goodbye, Jackie.”
Elmore started up the stairs, one slow step at a time. His tongue came out and tasted the blood on his lip as it clotted, the slight sting of the punch lingering.
On the fourth step, Jackie sprang into action. He’d advanced slowly. Based on her performance in the cage, he had expected it.
Jackie screamed like a feline in a full fight with another as she jumped two stairs and dove at Elmore. He braced himself and lifted the long screwdriver, aiming for the center of her chest.
It connected cleanly and entered her ribs between her breasts. Her weight drove Elmore back until they both fell. The hard basement floor proved unforgiving. He hit his elbow hard enough to cause pins and needles to course through his left hand.
But Jackie hit harder. She smacked down and rolled onto her back, her mouth bleeding after making contact with the floor directly. A couple teeth had cut through her lip. She rolled her head back and forth, moaning, crying and trying to figure out what had happened to her chest.
He watched as she lifted her head and realized it was the screwdriver’s handle that stuck out of her skin. Her breathing becoming more and more labored.
Elmore got up slowly and moved closer. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring in their feeble attempt to claim as much air as they could catch. But it was no use. Blood began to slip past her lips. She was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.
Elmore looked up and down her body, once pretty, now broken and dirty. He wadded up a gob of saliva and spit on her stomach.
“That’s what I think of vermin, you fucking whore.”
He reached over and laid his palm around the screwdriver’s handle. Both her hands came up to his wrist and her head shook back and forth fast, her eyes wide. She tried to say something, but only screamed as Elmore twisted the tool in and out.
Jackie’s body convulsed, her hands fell away and her eyes rolled back in her head.
In her last moment, her bowels evacuated.
“Oh, man, you are going to pay for that. I cannot believe you soiled my floor.”
Elmore got up, fished for the keys in his shirt pocket and headed for the stairs. He would clean up in his bathroom, get dressed in his plastic coveralls and grab a bag of lime from the garage.
Then he’d return, take Jackie apart with his handsaw and start planting her in the field behind his house, lime coating every piece.
No trace of Jackie would ever be found. The basement would take some cleaning, but he’d get on it and then start searching for Sarah Roberts again.
One day he’d find her. When that day came, he’d be ready.
If he couldn’t find her soon, he’d answer the resumes he had received for photo shoots and find another young girl to keep as a toy until he found Sarah.
Whatever happened, his needs came first, and nothing or no one would stop him.
Not even someone as courageous and heroic as Sarah Roberts.
On the stairs, he stopped and said to himself, “Sarah, I’m coming for you.”
#
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About Jonas Saul
Jonas Saul is the author of the Sarah Roberts and the Drake Bellamy Series. Visit his website, www.jonassaul.com for upcoming release dates. Jonas lives in Europe with his wife, Kate Cornwell.
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Table of Contents
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
The Hostage - A Preview
About the Author