Chapter 21
If only I could have called it a night and went to bed right then and there. But I didn’t have my phone. And though the long night had already begun to take its toll on me, I feared the worst when I thought of all the incriminating evidence and other personal information on my phone.
I had never been careful when it came to activities on my phone. I had specific locations mapped out on certain applications. Google was also a wonderful search engine that could facilitate any number of instructions on many fascinating things if one would take the time to look. Of course, there was also a list of numbers on the phone that I wouldn’t want to fall into the wrong hands.
All in all, I didn’t want anyone spending too much time perusing through it. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what consequences would lay ahead if it fell into the wrong hands. I grabbed the house phone and punched in my own cell’s digits and waited. The phone rang over and over again until finally a man answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, umm. Yes. I lost my phone today and since you answered it, you have it. Great!” I was surprised someone actually answered the phone.
“Yes, Jolene. I have your phone. It fell on the floor when uh…” his voice trailed off. “It must have fallen during our little encounter in the parking lot,” Bill said. He must have picked up the phone after I had rushed out of the club.
“Yeah Bill, thanks so much for picking it up. Do you think I could maybe swing by and pick it up now? I really need my phone for uh, work.”
If he suspected me of lying he didn’t verbalize it. “I understand your predicament,” he said. “But I live in Warwick, New York. I suspect it’s a hefty drive for you, probably at least two hours,” he paused. “But if you are willing to make the trip, you are more than welcome to come to my home and pick up your phone.”
Two hours. By the time I drove back home it would be past 7 AM. And that’s if I left immediately without any sort of distractions. But I knew myself too well. To be alone in Bill’s house might prove to be too tempting. I wasn’t exactly the poster child for self control. And too, though I hated to admit it even to myself, I feared Bill. Feared him for the things he could do to me and the things he made me want to do to him. I felt the forceful tug of my imagination and the possibilities sent chills up my spine.
Bill’s inviting nature could be the catalyst to a series of very disastrous events. I feared to be even within a close proximity of him. Ignoring my own advice, I grabbed my purse and slammed the door behind me as I left. I needed that damn phone.
The drive over was more exhausting than I had originally thought. Though I’d been in the area once or twice, I managed to forget about the two enormous mountains that you had to drive through in order to reach the wholesome town of Warwick. The mountains were both massive and ominous. At night, in the dark, when you had only your car to light the way, the twists and turns were enough to unsettle even the strongest of stomachs.
Being able to see only a few feet in front of your vehicle for many miles took some getting used to. The trees that lined either side of the road created an arched protective barrier over the black strip of winding roads. I wondered what eerie creatures lurked in the darkness of overgrown trees along the way.
You’d be lucky to drive through both mountains and not have a deer suddenly saunter onto the middle of the road where you’d have no choice than to hit or go off the cliff.
The mountains were a dangerous ride no matter what time of day it was and so there were ridiculous speed limit changes and traps all over the mountain. Coasting along, albeit dangerously at 50 MPH, I was brought down to 35 and then down to 20 and finally 15MPH. Eventually though, it would jump back to 35MPH and so the speed limit became a distraction to my driving.
Once I reached the end of the mountain road, I only had a few more turns before I pulled up in front of a pair of wrought-iron gates. The gate’s rustic number read 33 and I was positive that I had arrived at the correct address. This was Bill’s house.
I had to get out of the car to get close enough to the intercom. I wondered why it wasn’t close enough to simply talk out of the car, but it was probably laziness taking over me after such a long night. I pressed the call button and waited. It took longer than I had expected but then Bill’s voice finally echoed off the speaker.
“Good morning Jolene.”
“Good morning Bill,” I said awkwardly. I found it strange to be saying good morning before the sun had come up. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, no. I was putting together some paperwork in the study. I’ll open the gate now.” Just as he finished speaking, the beautifully decorated wrought-iron gate split in half and I hopped back into my Jeep.
Bill’s driveway was long with overgrown trees lining both sides. It finally led me to a white mammoth-sized house with a three-door garage attached to its side. Parked outside of the garage were two very expensive cars. I wouldn’t consider myself a car aficionado or anything even resembling one, but from what I could make out in the dark, I was impressed.
I parked my Jeep right behind a black Hummer and took the short walk over to the front door of the house. Could this even be considered just a house? The lack of light partnered with the vast amount of trees and shrubbery covering the property made it hard to see but Bill had quite a property on his hands. This place was in a category all on its own. It wasn’t just a house it was a wonderland.
Looking up, I imagined there were at least 4 to 5 bedrooms which made me wonder how many people lived here. Surely, this was a home for a family. It didn’t have the right look or atmosphere of a bachelor pad. I was still taking in the view when suddenly I heard a noise and then sound of metal sliding on metal. It sounded like the turn of a lock. I twisted back around to face the door and there was Bill standing in the doorway.
He had on the same clothes that he had worn at the club but the first two buttons of his shirt were casually undone and I saw a hint of chest hair that sparked my interest. I shunned the thought from my head. I couldn’t afford the slightest bit of inappropriateness to shine through. I just needed my cell.
“Sorry,” I smiled. “You have such beautiful landscaping. I was admiring the exterior of your home.”
“Oh. Well, thank you,” he said. With both hands in his pockets, his eyes met the floor in humility. “I’ve put a lot of my blood, sweat and tears into it to make it mine,” he said.
“It shows,” I said once again taking in another look up and around the whole front of his house.
An awkward silence hung in the air. I sensed he was watching me as I curiously eyed anything and everything that there was to look at. I suddenly felt self-conscience. I must have looked like a small child seeing the world for the very first time.
I hadn’t noticed Bill inch so close to me when he leaned in to my ear. “There’s a lot more inside to discover, if you’ll come in.” It was just a whisper but the warmth of his breathe on the back of my neck sent a tingly sensation down my spine and ignited a tiny spark. The icy chill of the wind felt stronger now that he had come so close and teased me with his body heat. I rubbed both of my arms simultaneously. “It is chilly out here.”
I stepped up past the threshold and into the house. Its warmth relieved me of the bitter cold from outside. Yet even more, Bill’s house was breath-takingly beautiful.
Bill shut the door behind him as I continued to rub my hands up and down my arms ridding myself of the chill. Once my eyes adjusted to the tiny glimmer of lit candles accenting the walls like musical notes I took note of the exquisite décor. The entrance to his home was decorated with strangely-large and intimidating images. The walls were colored brick red and I took a particular interest in a rather frightening painting with a think golden frame to my left. The image was that of an old man wearing a red robe sitting on a golden throne. His face bore an unpretentious smirk that immediately made me uncomfortable. Most likely, this was a portrait of an old pope or cardinal. At some point in history he was probably famo
us, and perhaps even beloved. But this odd image did not, as it probably should have, induce me with warm fuzzy feelings of the divine. He appeared truly menacing. It was something about his eyes.
“Ah, I see you’ve taken a liking to the portrait of San Ignacio del Pietro,” said Bill. “You have good taste, but I wouldn’t have pegged you for a god-fearing woman.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Not really any way. I just…it’s interesting. He seems kind of scary though, for such a high-ranking religious figure.”
“That is precisely the reason why I chose this piece in particular to place at the entrance of my home. He’s not a bore. On the face of it, he’s obviously holy but you can’t help but sense the undeniably heavy weight of evil. It’s an archetypal image of good versus evil.”
“Which one are you?” I asked before he could go on any further.
“That depends,” he retorted.
“On?”
Motioning for me to follow, Bill led me into a brightly lit kitchen with a big marble top island in the center. Atop were numerous bowls full of various fruits and vegetables in the center and more than a few unopened bottles of wine. No, this most certainly was not the bachelor pad I had been expecting. Most young men I knew barely had water in stock let alone mountains of fresh fruit and expensive wine to garnish their counter tops.
After grabbing two large glasses from a cabinet and carefully setting them down on the table, he opened a bottle of Merlot and began to pour.
“It depends on many things. You do drink wine don’t you?” he smiled. He hadn’t given me much of a choice after liberally pouring two full glasses.
“I do.” A tiny smirk betrayed my face. Was he deliberately trying to throw me off? I couldn’t get a sense of his motivation. I couldn’t get so much as a clear thought through my head with him standing there so devilishly handsome and so wickedly intriguing.
The malicious thoughts of which I so forcefully discouraged were, step by step, dragging themselves to the surface and I feared the worst. I hoped I would be able to exert the level of self control needed to avoid devouring Bill and discarding his body like as I took out the trash. Why had I come here? Why oh why? I asked myself the same question over and over again.
My cell phone. That’s why I came. I took a sip of wine, so as not to appear rude and wasteful. I raised my glass and graciously motioned in his direction to say, “Thank you again for inviting me to your home. It was very nice of you-”
“Oh, cut the crap,” he cut me off.
“Excuse me?” I asked almost choking on the wine.
“Every morsel of every word that comes out of your mouth is pure bullshit?” he said. This looked to be the beginning of an angry rant and I was even more confused than I had been ten seconds ago. He went on before giving me the opportunity to respond. “Do you fake your way through every conversation you have with people? Or is it just me? Or am I the only one who’s caught on to the lazy shit that comes out of your jaw?” I heard everything that he said but I was somewhat distracted by his beautiful voice. Even in anger, he spoke like an angel. To have him standing here yelling was still quite a pleasure to listen to.
He certainly didn’t speak like he was from another country but his accent unwillingly betrayed him. I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Here I was, trying to be nice and he was taking insult to my graciousness. Where did I go wrong? I was developing the rather annoying habit of being utterly confused at everything that had to do with Bill.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shoved all imitation of class and propriety out the door. I had no use for it anymore. “I thank you for allowing me to come here and inviting me into your home and you tell me to cut the crap? How bout you cut the crap!” The volume of my voice was escalating far more than I cared to admit and I was filled with the all too familiar sense to flee the scene. I needed to get what I came here for and jet.
“You know what. Forget it!” I yelled. “Just give me my phone please. I don’t have time for this bullshit. I’ll get out of your hair and this can be over and done with.”
Bill moved lightening fast around to press himself right behind me and enveloped my waist with his right arm. His movement was so unexpected, I didn’t dare move. Using his free left arm, he grabbed at my hair and moved it roughly to the left side of my face. The feel of his belt buckle on the small of my back provided enough friction to arouse me. Blood rushed to my cheeks and I blushed. My breath quickened. My eyes darted curiously from left to right but my head never moved. I couldn’t see him but I felt every inch of him behind me. His lips hovered between my neck and my ear lobe as he spoke.
“Now, that’s what I was looking for,” he said. “A genuine reaction.” Still, I didn’t move. I wanted to spin around and mount him like a banchee. I wanted to take him to a place he’d never been before and then flick off the switch that was his life and call it a night. The urges were building up and all I could think to do was to take him like I’ve taken so many others and rip out his throat. I fought hard to resist it all. But these were no longer mere wants. They were needs. Needs that were rather difficult to tame once the devil inside had taken a peek.
But this was what he wanted wasn’t it? Is this not what he had been asking for? Had he not just demanded that I cut the crap? He wanted an undiluted version of Jolene. The one no one ever got to see because no one ever really wanted to see? That’s what he asked for but it wouldn’t be the first time a man asked for something that he’d regret. Surely, he would regret it once he came to the realization of what the real me entailed.
The unadulterated and purest form of me wanted to fuck him, for lack of a better term. I wanted to take and use him till I was good and done. But even more, I wanted the surge of power I would experience as I held his life in my hands and took it away without so much as an inkling of compunction.
He held me tightly within his grasp and as good as it felt, I couldn’t help but think of the wonders of binding him and toying with him mercilessly. I wanted so badly to toy with him the way he so enjoyed toying with me.
I didn’t usually play with my victims long before I ended their pitiful existence. It wasn’t really my style. I was more of a wham- bam thank you ma’am kinda girl, but something about Bill made me want to prolong his inevitable demise. I wanted to draw out his pleasure and linger longingly in his pain.
But that wasn’t going to happen. His body language illustrated a different desire. He held a vastly different image than my own in his mind. I didn’t know much but that much I could sense.
Finally, Bill released me letting out a long, drawn out breath and took a seat next to where I was standing in his quiet kitchen. I slowly retook my seat as I fought hard to regain my composure.
My thoughts turned back to my phone. He had had enough time to go through it and I wondered if he had the audacity to search through the phone of a complete stranger. Surely, snooping through my phone would have been expected had I known Bill personally and there might be some useful information for him. But that simply wasn’t the case here. There was absolutely no reason for him to search through my phone. There would be nothing of any use for him. But just because there wasn’t anything useful in it for him did not mean that there wasn’t any incriminating evidence. People’s cell phones contain lots of details about a person’s life and I was no different. Every passing moment without my phone was more and more torturous.
We sat in silence for a few more passing moments before the silence got to me and gave me the push to speak once more. “Um…I came here for my cell phone. If you could just get that for me, I could be out of your way.”
Bill tilted his head to the right and swiveled it 90 degrees and appeared to be throwing a thousand tiny darts straight into my eyes.
“Of course,” he replied with nonchalance. “That is…after all, what you came here for.”
His arrogant tone offended me but I decided against making any jabbing remarks that might prolong my long-awaited meet
ing with the certain phone in question.
I came here for my phone and only my phone. The suggestion that I might have come here for anything else other than that was preposterous. The fact that Bill was charismatic, intriguing and sexy as hell was just a little extra. His ability to fuck the shit out of my mind was incomprehensible, as well.
But nevertheless, I came here for my phone. I would not have trudged up two mountains for cheap sex. I could find good ass much closer to home for a lot less effort. On the other hand, those mountains might provide good coverage to hide a body. I would be sure to remember that for any future rendezvous.
Bill wasn’t the typical man I sought after on a hunt. He was attractive, yes. But good looks come in out of eye sight all day long. Good looks were just the beginning. I would have loved to hunt for a man like Bill, but his type was in short supply. I was experiencing a drought of young, available, sexy and intelligent men who could literally and not figuratively cause your knees to buckle and your inner thighs to palpitate. Such qualities in a man were such a rare find that you could miss it if you weren’t paying enough attention. They were subtle beings that did not divulge their secrets at the initial passing glance.
Typical to his type, you had to allow a slow simmer for a man like Bill and bring him to a sizzle to discover the goodies within him. I usually just brought my victims to top notch heat and saw where the scorching blaze would take us. But fast burning flames burn out quickly and the slow simmering allowed the flame to fully satiate the hunger. They satisfied the need completely.
Procuring a man like Bill would take time and effort. But it would be well worth it. It would be the type of kill that could take you out of the game for a considerable amount of time. I could relish in the thought of his murder for months, possibly longer, without yearning to kill again. The relief…oh what a relief it would be to go about my daily life without wanting to kill over and over again. How wonderful it would be to live peacefully in my own body without succumbing to nefarious appetites and simply going about my days. I could enjoy leisurely days that would be spent working and enjoying Eric’s company. No longer would I need to ignore my parents or siblings and friends. For a while, I could be… almost normal.
All of Her Men Page 12