Kiss Her Goodbye: Thriller/Romance with a shocking twist

by Kirsten Mitchell

  “Oh? What’s this?” He stopped her from unbuttoning him and gestured in feigned shock to her leg around him. “Do you want me to fuck you or something?”

  She interrupted his ridiculously obvious question and devoured him again in kisses because she was about to completely lose her mind. His fingers slid deeper inside of her, each thrust inching her closer to climax.

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Quit playing. I goddamn need this.”

  He laughed, maddening her further.

  He slid his fingers deep inside of her and curled them toward him. She felt the threat of an orgasm raging to a bloom inside of her—it held back precariously right at the edge. She stood on her tippy toes, her body tensing and arching desperate to take every millimeter of him. Even if it was only his fingers.

  “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” he sneered. “As much as I want to fuck your brains out right now, that would be incredibly selfish of me. I wouldn’t want to make you feel like a slut like you did back in high school. Now, would I?”

  “Leo, please. I didn’t mean it—”

  “But what I can do is give you the most insane pleasure you’ve ever received in your entire life. With only my hand.” He slid another finger inside her and then thrust in and out, in and out, pushing her closer to exploding over the edge.

  “Oh god, please…”

  “Ready to lose your mind?” he asked darkly.

  She gasped with each shiver that pushed her closer. How was this even happening? There was no way that she could orgasm, not just from him fingering her and kissing her.

  With each thrust, the muscles in her legs trembled fiercely. He shoved her back against a tree, the pine bark stinging her bare back. She lifted both legs around him so that all her weight was pressed against the incredible strength of his wrist. The burden of her pleasure being carried by only his palm and muscled forearm. His fingers deeper inside her now, his thumb pushing down on her sweet pot.

  His mouth drove harder against hers. She kissed him back, unable to drink in enough of him. He pulled away and watched her with rage in his eyes. She watched him back, softer, needy, pleading for his mercy in releasing her from this tension.

  His fingers glided out of her wetness while holding her gaze. Then in one fierce thrust, he pushed them back inside and she exploded. She gasped as pleasure ripped through her in a quivering, delirious mess. She held his eyes the entire time she rode through fifty, sixty delicious mind-numbing waves. She didn’t remember having such an intense, gloriously long orgasm in her entire life. Her sex clenched on his fingers, wanting to trap him there forever. Her helpless body shuddered.

  He smiled.

  “I know you love me,” he said. “You always did and you never stopped. It’s why I’m here. You’re so beautiful, Mia. Inside and out.”

  And in that moment he made her feel exactly that way.

  *******

  Sunday, September 17: 8:35 a.m.

  Jessica and Mark stood atop the rocky cliff. She looked over at her grandson. Rivers of sweat streamed down Mark’s back, his lungs gasping. What an out-of-shape pansy. She, on the other hand, barely glistened with sweat and didn’t pant for air. She calmly watched the grizzly bear below through a pair of binoculars. Her long gray hair and flowery yellow bathrobe flowed in the wind behind her. Below her bathrobe, a pair of slouchy brown lambskin boots, barely soiled from the intense trek.

  “How are you not dying from this hike, man?” He dropped the tent bag and supplies they’d packed last-minute to the ground. “You’re hardly dressed for the outdoors and you’re, like, ancient.”

  “Watch yourself,” she snapped. “If I can train a grizzly bear to attack on command, I can sure as hell walk up a damn hill.” She dropped her binoculars in disappointment. “But Walter is not even trying to complete his mission. What a waste of time.”

  “I told you all along, he’s just a stupid bear. He only likes to eat, nap and fart. Ever since we got him when he was a tiny baby cub he didn’t like no drama or violence.”

  “Walter is a professionally trained guard bear.” She scowled. “He was given their scent and was specifically trained to attack these people so we can rescue them and collect what is ours. And look at him now. He didn’t even try to kill those motherfuckers. He just ate the food in their tent”

  “Probably it’s because of all the marijuana he’s been eating from your pot farm. So he’s, like, you know, gotten lazy over the years. Maybe we should throw him a few pizzas, in case he has the munchies. Get his energy up and everything.” Mark guffawed at his own joke and then abruptly stopped when Jessica’s face twisted up in a scowl.

  They watched Walter settle down to nap at the base of the tree as his victims stayed safe up high in the branches.

  “Bloody useless moron. Now he’s just playing with me,” Jessica sighed. “Grab my damn gun, boy. I am going to shoot his brains out for once and for all.”

  “No.” Mark grabbed for the gun and held it protectively to his chest. “As stupid as Walter might be, he’s family. I can’t let you kill him.”

  “I don’t give two shits what your tender heart wants. That idiot is not attacking them when he had a clear opportunity to do so. He is wasting my time,” Jessica spat. “Now, hand me my gun.”

  “I said, no,” Mark said firmly. Quietly. “You are not killing him, man. And that’s final.”

  Jessica glared at him. “You always were so pathetic, unlike Saul,” Jessica referred to his brother who had chased after Brendan on his way to school four years ago and brought him to her. She sneered. “Now there was a real brave man. And a grandson who knew a thing or two about duty.”

  And even now, how he held the gun—Jessica snickered at how stupid this kid was. How many times had she told him to keep the safety on that gun and not point it at himself like a moron?

  “Fine,” she said. “You win. I won’t shoot Walter.”

  “You promise?”

  “You bet,” she said. “In fact, I’m about ready to head back home and put my feet up on the sofa and have a gin and tonic. What do you say, boy? Will you join me?”

  “I’d like that,” Mark said, although he didn’t let go of the gun. He still clutched it to his chest, pointed up under his chin.

  “There was a new show on Netflix I was hoping we could see. It’s about killer kittens that go on a rampage to save the universe,” he snorted with joy.

  “Killer kittens, huh?” Jessica took one solid step towards him.

  “It sounds corny, I know, but—”

  In one expert swoop, Jessica put her fingers on Mark’s hand that held the gun. She pushed on his index finger atop the trigger, sending a bullet up his chin out through his brain. His eyes bulged at the blast of the gun and a spurt of blood erupted from the top of his scalp.

  That’ll teach him to remember gun safety.

  He fell to her feet, sputtering dark blood from his nostrils and mouth around her suede boots. She stepped aside to keep them clean.

  “But, why, grandma?” he choked the words through globs of blood. “I loved you so much.”

  “Fuck off, kid.” She bent down and took the gun from his hand, as soon the blood stopped sputtering out of him and the life finally drained from his eyes. “You’re done here.”

  She marched to their makeshift camp, where they’d left the boy tied to a tree. She would take him to the Blueflower cabin and finish the mission alone.

  *******

  Nate wanted to bolt.

  This red-haired girl, Glenda, whom he’d adored for so many years, because of her spunk and charm and the precise way she applied makeup in her videos, was proving to be exactly the opposite of the human being he’d envisioned her to be. That pretty smile on her face was now the symbol of everything disgusting in this world.

  And now this plan that she was asking him to do.

  He simply wouldn’t.

  He couldn’t.

  But neither could he open his mouth to refuse. Frozen in his obsession fo
r her. This was the closest he’d ever come to a relationship. Ever.

  But if he turned away from her, then what? Back to his bachelor apartment that hadn’t had a window opened in four years, filling up his trash can with cum-infused tissue papers, his only friends who truly understood him his collection of spices?

  This was not a life he cared to endure one minute longer.

  “Leo and Mia will probably be back soon.” Glenda looked up at him with big, hopeful eyes. “We need to act quickly and get everything ready to execute the plan.”

  He could barely comprehend her words over the buzz that swarmed his brain.

  Nate might have made some mistakes in his anger, but he was no killer. He knew it in his gut. And the more he thought about, the more he believed he couldn’t have killed Penelope Barter. He didn’t remember it at all. It was possible he had blacked out, but after the fact he had tried to save her. What kind of killer goes back to save their victim?

  Surely, this meant he never harmed her.

  Surely…?

  But the reality was, when he saw her swirl in the waters below her, her clothes chasing her corpse like colorful kites, he didn’t feel remorse the way a normal person would.

  The buzzing in his mind lifted to a murderous screech.

  “Goodness, jellybeans, Penelope Barter is actually dead…” Nate uttered through the pain his own mind inflicted upon him.

  “That cop bitch is dead?” Glenda scrunched up her face. “Like, dead dead?”

  He silently watched her. Unable to lie to her. The fire of her hidden accusation scathed him. Shame gripped his gaze and tore it from hers.

  “Did a grizzly eat her?” Glenda smiled as though the idea amused her.

  He’d come to Doc Leo with the hopes of becoming a better man, and he wasn’t going to turn his back on those achievements. Not when he’d come so far in therapy. Not for a woman, not for anything. Even if that woman was the amazing Glenda the Good Bitch.

  “I don’t think I can give you my equipment, Glenda, to carry on to Blueflower,” Nate declared with as much confidence he could thrust out of himself. “I’m sorry if this means our relationship is now over.”

  “Relationship? Oh…yeah…” Glenda twisted her face into softness. “Silky monkey.” She slithered over to him and purred the magical words up at his face. “I know my plan sounds bad, but believe me, it’s for the best.”

  “I-I-I can’t…I can’t be a bad man anymore,” Nate said. “Dr. Lawson is helping me become a good man. I can’t let him down.”

  “I understand,” she writhed against him. Her hand traced the front of his pants. “How about a little—”

  “No.” He grasped her hand and pushed it aside. “Glenda, please.”

  “No problem.” She smiled.

  “Thank you.” Nate swallowed what tasted like the bitter sting of a rock and a hard place. He peeled away from her clingy embrace and ran toward the cliff. He pulled his gun from the front of his pants. He’d lied to Dr. Lawson about having it. Nate saw now that it was a horrible mistake to have this weapon and lie to his therapist about. So many people were in danger because of his stupidity. Penelope Barter was dead, maybe because of him.

  In a giant arc, he heaved his gun over the trees and into the water below. It splashed where he had last seen Penelope floating. The gun sank away under the dark water and was gone forever.

  It was better this way.

  At least he tried to convince himself it was.

  *******

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Sunday, September 17: 9:03 a.m.

  They lay together near an abandoned cave and Leo brushed his thumb across her tears to wipe away her sadness. Her rawness tore at him. She had the most profound fiery cognac eyes, sometimes distant and emotionless, and other times, intense and almost mocking. He regretted ever doubting her and questioning if she had hurt Penelope and Glenda. Damn Nate for even putting that idea into his mind.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to him.

  “Don’t be.”

  “I’m an idiot to always randomly cry like this,” she said.

  He was used to seeing people collapse under the enormous weight of their emotions. It came with the job. But to see Mia cry tore him in half and ripped a foreign pain through him that he hated. Leo took her, still naked and trembling, into his arms. She collapsed into him.

  He realized now he’d been cruel to distract her from finding closure with her missing son. It was selfish, really. But a sick part of him had wanted revenge, to make her pay for leaving him. He knew his anger wasn’t her fault. The rage that curled inside of him was ignited by his own stupidity, the mistakes he’d made in his past.

  “We need to find her,” Mia whispered, sprawled over their clothes on the ground. While her words meant Penelope Barter, he knew who she really wanted to find was her son. A lone bough of a tree dipped down and tickled at her eyes; she wiped it away with a little too much force. “I’m just acting crazy right now, I’ve got to pull myself together.”

  “Agreed,” he said, to finding both missing people, not to having to pull herself together. But he noticed she winced. “Agreed that we have to find her,” he clarified. He got up and wandered to the bush where he’d tossed her shirt and pants and brought them to her, then added cheekily, “Although I kind of agree about pulling yourself together.”

  “Do you really think I am crazy?” Her eyebrows flitted upward with sincere concern.

  “I was kidding,” He smiled.

  “Are you ever not?” she asked. “Kidding, that is?” She lifted her chin at him.

  “Sometimes I can be serious,” he said.

  “Like when?”

  “Like when I’m making love to you.”

  She glanced away at the bite of his words and so he smoothly changed the subject. “Here’s what I think. I think that you’re a woman who has suffered. A woman who needs, more than anything, hope. Is it a crime to encourage people to hope? I bloody well hope not. Because what would our world become without hope?”

  “In other words, you believe I’m delusional about finding my son, and you’re entertaining my shenanigans with sex and convoluted humor.” It was more a statement than a question.

  “When you say it like that you make it sound like that’s a bad thing.” He picked up a leaf and whisked the end of her nose with it.

  “And you believe Brendan is dead.” She blinked at him.

  “No. I don’t believe that,” he said, putting the leaf in his mouth and playfully chomping it. And he didn’t believe that. Not entirely, at least. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. It’s been a long time since I’ve believed anything. Not since…” He gave up on the leaf, throwing it aside, and sighed, questioning whether to fill in the blanks. “Hey, we should head back to camp soon.”

  “Not since what?” She climbed up to a seated position and pressed him with eye contact. Her loose black hair draped lusciously over one shoulder. Glimmers of sunshine sparkled her glistening pale skin. He wanted to kiss her shoulder where a pool of light collected like a tiny golden lake in the hollow of her collar bone.

  “Not now. Not here,” he said. “We’ve got to find Glenda, for crying out loud. She’s out with Nate and here we are wasting time.”

  “Wasting time?” Mia’s eyes were hurt and he immediately wished he hadn’t said it that way.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but she was cutting him off again, “You said Nate was perfectly safe and that we had nothing to worry about.”

  “He is.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to stop you from believing in anything.” She veered between subjects at dizzying speed that left him gaping for words he couldn’t find. Not after his brain was drained and peacefully blissful from earlier events.

  “I said it’s nothing,” he eventually replied.

  “It’s not nothing. I can feel it’s something.”

  He watched her watching him. She was so immersed in her own pro
blems, the last thing he wanted to do was burden her with trauma of his own. But from the intensity of her stare, he knew she would never back down, and his best strategy was to tell her matter-of-factly, with the blandest of emotion, and hope that she never discussed it again.

  “I haven’t believed in anything,” he started, forcing his voice to sound blasé, “since my son, Jason, died.” He cringed on the word Jason, realizing he hadn’t said his name out loud for years now.

  Mia lifted eyebrows lift in pure, unbridled astonishment. “Pardon me?”

  He’d bombed that one. Much to his dismay, she did care. In fact, the depths of how much she cared made him feel uneasy.

  “Your son…he what?”

  “Forget about it,” he said. “You wanted to know, so I told you.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”

  “Because it’s not something you casually bring up when you’re reunited with the love of your life,” he said. “I mean, kind of a romance killer, don’t you think? Although, I do have to admit, one of my questions I ask on a first date is ‘how aware are you of past traumas and suppressed emotions and tell me about how you are actively working to heal them and not project that shit onto me?’ Some ladies have complained that’s a bit of an awkward way to start a round of tapas and martinis.”

  Mia merely smirked at him.

  “Therapist joke,” he explained.

  “The love of your life…?” Mia’s eyes glimmered darkly at him, her mouth slightly ajar. “I was the love of your life?”

  It wasn’t until she repeated the words that he realized what he’d said. He didn’t know if he felt embarrassed or angry for letting that slip. Usually he was much more careful about what he said.