Hardass (Bad Bitch)

by Christina Saunders

  I was about to be his next victim. My body convulsed, doing everything possible to try to get free of the ropes. I screamed with fear and anger, the two mixing as I pulled and tugged, ignoring the pain as the ropes sliced deeper. Luke watched, the corners of his mouth turning up as I struggled until I couldn’t catch my breath. The entire time, his hand rested in the same place, feeling my heartbeat.

  “As I’m sure you’ve figured out, Caroline, this isn’t my first rodeo.” He hitched a thumb toward a tray of knives laid out neatly a few feet away.

  Tears streamed from my eyes as I silently pled with him to let me go.

  “Oh, it’s too early for tears. I haven’t even begun yet.” He stepped back and roved my entire body with his gaze. He cocked his head to the side. “See, I’m used to a certain type of woman. Hookers. Rough sorts. You, though. Look at you. Smooth skin. No nasty sores or pockmarks. Not a mark on you. You take care of yourself. A perfect blank canvas.”

  I shook my head.

  He nodded in response. “Accept it, Caroline. I’ve been watching you. I know your roommate is gone. He won’t be back until next weekend. I checked. No one will even know you’re gone.”

  He pulled my phone out of his pocket. “I already texted Terrell to let him know you’ll be staying at your mom’s place this weekend. So even if he does come home, he won’t expect to see you. I’ll keep on texting him now and then, until Monday when I dump your body and the phone, too.”

  It was true. Everything he said. I would be missing for the whole weekend before anyone really got suspicious. Terrell wouldn’t send out an alarm until I didn’t show up to work on Monday. My tears burned. I’d be long dead by then.

  Luke reached back and grabbed a knife, twirling it in his palm. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the movement.

  “I admit.” He chuckled. “I shouldn’t have chosen you. But the moment I saw you, I knew I had to own your soul. I will, when I’m done, you know? I’ll own you. First, I’ll make you scream. I’ll decorate your skin with my art.” He tossed the knife in the air, the light glinting off the smooth surface before he caught it by the hilt. “Then I’m going to get a taste.” His eyes went to my pussy, and I did everything I could to close my legs. I couldn’t. I was bare and open to him. “And then I’m going to slit your throat and collect your blood for some later indulgences of mine. The rest you don’t need to worry yourself with. Suffice it to say, no one will ever suspect poor, sweet Luke of having anything to do with your disappearance. No one saw me. Just some nondescript man in a baseball cap, if that.”

  Terror seeped into every cell in my body. My breaths were sharp and shallow. He was going to kill me. I had no escape. I struggled again, my body refusing to give in even though I knew all was lost. When my muscles ached and my hands and ankles went numb, I crumbled, hanging in the dead air.

  “I saw it.” He smiled and walked to me before putting the tip of his blade at my nipple. “Right then. You just accepted it. I can smell it when they do. When they realize everything I’ve said is true.” He ran the knife lightly down my breast, the stinging pain putting everything else into sharp relief. “Look at me, Caroline. Keep looking at me.” He drew the blade to his mouth and licked my blood from the silver metal. “Let’s begin.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Wash

  I had tried Caroline’s phone a dozen times on my way back to town. No answer. I finally gave up and called Toby to see if he knew what happened to her after the autopsy.

  “I don’t know where she is, but I can assure you that you’ve royally fucked up with her.” Toby’s voice was stern.

  “What?”

  “She was upset. Said she’s going to put in her notice today, and I know you’re the reason. What did you do?”

  “Shit.” I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. For a split second that morning, I’d thought I’d heard someone in the hallway when Trent was giving me his fraternization lecture. It must have been Caroline, and she’d likely heard the part about how I agreed to fire her. But if she was upset, she must not have heard the rest. Fuck.

  “She didn’t give me details, but you need to fix it, asshole.”

  I stomped the accelerator even harder. I had to get to her, to explain. “Do you know where she is?”

  “No. It’s been hours since we left the hospital.”

  “Did she say where she was going?” I would get on my knees at her front door and beg if I had to.

  “No. I figured back to the office to pack her stuff.”

  “She’s not at the office.”

  “I really don’t know where she is, man. I did see her talking to someone as I was leaving the hospital, though.”

  “Who?”

  I don’t know. Some guy wearing a baseball hat. She took him back down into the morgue. I didn’t see them after that.”

  Ice raced down my spine. “What did he look like? Do you remember?”

  “Not really. Forties, maybe. Medium build. Seemed like he knew her based on the way they were talking. But there was nothing special about him.”

  “Luke. It was fucking Luke.” Fear erupted in parts of me that I didn’t even know existed.

  “Who’s Luke?”

  “Toby, listen to me. Luke Graves is the Bayou Butcher. I need you to find him right now. I don’t care what it takes. I haven’t been able to get in touch with Caroline, and if you saw her with—”

  “Whoa, slow down.” His voiced turned serious. “What? Who are you talking about?”

  “Tyler Graves’s brother, Luke, aka Chip. He’s been playing us this whole time, and now I’m afraid he has Caroline. I’m ten minutes out. Trace her cell. Send someone by her apartment. I’ve already called the office. She’s not there. Please, Toby. Please find her. Go to his house, his office. Tear that fucking town apart until she’s safe.”

  Toby paused for a moment and said with a sober tone, “Give me her cell. It’ll take a little while to get it pulled, though.”

  I complied and waited as Toby started barking orders on the other end of the line. At whom, I didn’t care. But he was sending his troopers out to every location she could be.

  I had to find her. God, if Luke had taken her . . . My jaw tightened to the point I thought I’d break a tooth. I would kill him with my bare hands.

  “Wash?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re gearing up and heading on over to Luke’s residence. It’ll take us a while because we aren’t in the city. I’ll go ahead and call over to NOPD to get them heading out there, too. They might be able to beat us.”

  “Toby, please.” My voice cracked, but I continued. “Please find her.”

  “If she’s in this town, we’ll find her. You have my word. Let me go. I’ll keep you informed.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t do anything stupid, Wash. This guy is dangerous. We’ll handle it. You hear me?”

  I ended the call without responding and immediately pulled up Luke’s home address on my phone. If he’d had the parties at his house as I suspected, it was the best place to start.

  Every second that ticked by was an acute torture. I called Terrell and asked if he had any other way to contact her. No, they just talked by text and phone. I didn’t give him any details. He was alarmed anyway and said he was on his way back and I’d better have answers when he arrived.

  I flew off the interstate and into the Garden District, running red lights and weaving through traffic. I ignored the hail of honking horns and frightened bystanders. I didn’t care. I had to get to her. Popping open my glove box, I pulled out my .45 as I sped down Luke’s street. I came to a stop just down from his three-story Italianate manse. A magnolia tree shaded the wide front yard, and the afternoon sun reflected from the windows.

  After chambering a round and clicking off the safety, I eased out of my car and left the door open so as not to make a sound. I edged around the grass until I reached the first set of windows. I peered inside but couldn’t see
anything because of the glare.

  I crept around until the shade of the tree gave me a better view through one of the windows. A kitchen, nothing of interest. I kept walking until I came to a side door. I tried the handle. Locked. Pulling off my coat, I wrapped the butt of the gun with the fabric. Then I knocked a pane of glass out, flinching at the tinkle of shards on the tile floor. Reaching in, I unlocked the door and eased inside, careful not to step on the broken glass and make even more noise.

  The house was quiet, but not empty. I could sense someone was here. The layout was unfamiliar, but I resolved to check every room until I found her. Since the kitchen was clear, I moved clockwise, heading to the front of the house. I passed through a library. A muffled sound drifted to me from one of the other rooms. I couldn’t make it out, but it was high pitched.

  My legs moved faster, pushing me toward the sound, toward her. I raised the gun and passed through a foyer, the afternoon light shooting through the transom blinding me for a second.

  A stinging pain erupted in my back, and I stumbled forward into another room. I dropped the .45, and it went skittering ahead of me. I scrambled after it and found Caroline, bloody and terrified, suspended in a web of ropes. Her wide eyes fixed on me and then on something behind me.

  I turned and threw up my arm as Luke lunged at me. The blade in his hand plunged into my forearm, sending a lightning blast of pain up my arm. I fell back, and he followed, landing on top of me. He straddled my hips and cracked his right fist across my jaw. I saw stars and took another punch before throwing out my own right hook, landing it on the side of his head. He listed to my left, and I bucked my hips up, shoving him off so I could turn over and find the gun. I saw it a few feet away. Getting to my knees, I crawled to it.

  My fingers brushed it—and searing pain exploded through my calf, where Luke had embedded another blade. I yelled and kicked with my other leg, but made no contact. Crimson stained my pants leg, spreading rapidly. He grabbed the blade’s hilt and twisted, his eyes sinister as he grinned at me. My yell was deafening.

  I kicked out again, and this time my heel connected with his chin. He fell back. I wrapped my fingers around the .45 and turned so I was on my back. Luke was quick, skittering away and standing behind Caroline. I got to my feet and limped toward him.

  He put a blade to her throat, sawing a little as she screamed into her gag.

  “Shoot me and I’ll do it,” Luke sneered.

  I tried to find a shot, any shot. There was none, not with Caroline between us.

  “Drop it and kick it over to me.” Luke sawed some more, and blood dripped down her throat. I knew the moment I’d seen pain and fear in her eyes that I would kill Luke. Now it was carved in stone.

  Even so, I dropped my aim and put the gun on the floor. Then I straightened and held my hands out.

  “Now kick it over.”

  I toed the pistol’s grip with the tip of my shoe and kicked, sending it skittering across the wood floor and onto the bloody plastic sheeting.

  Luke grinned and took the knife from Caroline’s neck. I could breathe again.

  When he knelt to grab the gun, I sprang at him. Some piece of furniture splintered and shattered as I tacked him into it. We fell in a rolling mess of arms and legs, kicking and punching. A deep searing ache tore through my stomach, but I kept fighting until I was on top of Luke, my hands around his throat.

  He clawed at my wrists, his fingernails digging and ripping at my skin. I increased my pressure on his windpipe.

  “Don’t you ever touch her.” My vision hazed a bit, but I only squeezed harder.

  He struggled more, trying to buck me off and peel my hands away. I wouldn’t let go, staring every ounce of hate I had for him into his eyes.

  After a few more moments, the pale blue eyes bugged and he stopped fighting. When his chest no longer moved and his eyes looked through me, I let up. The room was spinning. I struggled to my feet and yanked at the pulley system that held Caroline suspended. It lowered her to the plastic, where she crumpled in a pile. I went around to her front and yanked at the ropes around her wrists. The first one came easy. The second took longer, and then I sat, the strength ebbing out of me. She scrabbled at the ropes, releasing her own ankles before pulling the gag from her mouth.

  “Wash!” she cried and wrapped her arms around my neck.

  I thought it would warm me to feel her safe in my embrace. But I was cold. A chill seeped into my bones.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She was crying, her chest heaving against me. I raised a hand and stroked her hair, though it was all I could do. My limbs were heavy.

  She pulled away from me and gasped. “Wash, the blood.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just you. Are you hurt. Where’d he hurt you?”

  “He’d only just s-started.” She pushed me down onto my back and pressed her palms into my stomach. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Is anyone else here? Anyone coming?”

  “Toby.” My eyelids were so heavy.

  “When?” Her voice was desperate. The fear in it destroyed me. I didn’t want her to ever be afraid.

  “Soon.”

  “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t, Wash. Look at me.” She kept one hand on my stomach and cradled my head with the other.

  Her warm brown eyes were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  “I love you.” The words just came out, the most natural thing in the world.

  “I love you, too.”

  “Wash, wake up!” Her voice echoed around me and was joined by others.

  Were there other people? I wanted to get up, to fight, to protect her.

  A dark shape appeared over her shoulder. Toby’s voice made it to my ears, but I heard nothing but noise. No words. I looked back at Caroline, her gaze fixed on mine.

  My eyes closed even though I wanted nothing more than to keep looking at her.

  Epilogue

  Caroline

  Six Months Later

  “Move it a little more to the left.” I sighed. Sign placement was the hardest thing I’d done all week, and I’d just picked up two capital murder cases.

  “Here?” the building super asked.

  I tried to gauge the perfect height for it. I even held my hands up and formed a square with my thumbs and index fingers. My firm’s office had to look perfect when the clients walked in the door. The sign was the first thing they’d see.

  The golden letters glittered in the morning light.

  “Move it down a little. Just a hair.”

  The super sighed but did as I said. I stared a little while longer, shifting from heel to heel.

  Arms went around my waist, and Wash’s deep rumble vibrated against my back. “It’s perfect. Put it right there.”

  The super nodded his head in thanks and drilled one end of the Granade, Montreat, & Lynch sign into the wall.

  Wash squeezed me closer to him. “The sign isn’t the only thing that’s perfect.” His breath in my ear sent chill bumps shooting down my back and arms.

  “I have court.” I leaned my head back on his shoulder.

  “Not for half an hour.” He spoke louder to the super. “Keep up the good work.” Then he dragged me backward and pulled me into his office, slamming the door and pushing me up against it.

  “I have to prepare.” I smiled.

  Not fooled, he gripped my hands and pinned them above my head. “Since when are you not prepared?”

  “Since never.” I sighed as his lips found my neck, sucking lightly before his teeth edged across my skin.

  He pushed a knee between my legs.

  “Batson challenge hearing? That right?”

  I moaned as he ran his hands to my breasts and squeezed through my top. “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Challenging jury selection?” He switched my wrists to one hand and used the other to lift my skirt to my hips. “What was wrong with the jury, Ms. Montreat?”

  “It was . . . it was all white women.” I squirmed as the heat bu
ilt between my thighs.

  He shucked my panties down to my heels and knelt to pull them off. Then he placed a wet kiss right on my pussy. I put my hands in his hair and gripped him. He shook me off and stood, yanking my upper arm and turning me to face the door.

  He ground his hard cock into my ass. His belt clicked and then I felt his slick head at my entrance, then pushing forward and rubbing against my clit, the shaft trapped between my thighs.

  “What strikes are you going to challenge?” He stroked back and forth slowly, teasing my clit with each move.

  “Two black men and a black woman. They had nothing in voir dire that would be a valid reason to strike them off the jury panel. Had to be an improper motive, especially—” I gasped as he positioned his tip at my entrance and pushed inside.

  “Especially what, Ms. Montreat?” His voice was tight as he sank even deeper, his cock filling me.

  “Especially because the defendant was a young black male.” I scratched my nails down the door.

  He gripped my hair in one hand and yanked my hip back with the other.

  “Fucking perfect legal analysis, Ms. Montreat.” He kissed down my neck and fastened his teeth to my shoulder. His cock pumped in and out of me. I arched my back to get him even deeper, and he groaned into me.

  He pulled my hair harder and nibbled at my earlobe. “Your pussy is so wet, Ms. Montreat. One would think you wanted to be rough-fucked in your partner’s office.”

  His dirty talk turned my heat up another notch, and I pushed back against him harder and harder. Our skin slapped, the sound reverberating around his office. He released my hip and slid his fingers to my clit. Swirling around the nub, he sped up his pace, hammering into me as I moaned into the door.

  “So fucking hot.” His dick grew even harder as he pistoned deep inside me.

  “I’m close, Wash.” I gasped.

  “Then come for me, Caroline. I want to feel you convulse all over my cock. Think you can do that for me?”

  I nodded and lifted higher on my toes as he flicked my clit. His body crushed into mine, and my breath fogged the dark finish on his door. When he bit down on my neck hard enough to leave a mark, I squealed. He released my hair and slapped his hand over my mouth, pulling my neck back and making my back arch even farther.