Steal Me (Longshadows Book 1)

by Natalia Banks

  “The Trailer What Who?”

  Carter chuckled to himself. “It’s not exactly Johnathan Swift, I’ll give you that.”

  “You’re a Swift man? I had no idea.”

  “Oh sure, Gulliver especially.”

  Now it was Kat’s turn to look him up and down, as others were constantly doing to her. “Yeah, I can see that. I remember a line from that book…well, I guess I don’t remember it, but it was about prejudice and politeness? I remember it really hit home.”

  Carter turned to look out over the horizon of his memory. “The want of which knowledge will ever produce many prejudices, and a certain narrowness of thinking.”

  Warmth blossomed in Kat’s belly and below even more. “Yeah, I-I guess that’s the one.” But that narrowness was beneath them both, and she knew she had Carter to thank for her new, elevated perspective, among many other things.

  A confidence that she’d have the rest of her life.

  Chapter 26

  Kat

  Kat hadn’t felt so good in years, perhaps never in her life. She was sad about her fight with Jackie, but as she strode down State Street, she felt that her worries were all being left behind. Jackie’ll come around, she reassured herself, once Carter sets her up. I guess she has a reason to be mad, but that can’t last. Friendships have their ups and downs—no big deal.

  “Excuse me?” Kat stopped and turned, surprised to see a tall, broadly built man dressed like a clown, a grim hobo’s frown painted over his face. Before she could respond, he went on, “Thought I’d audition fer yer company. I’m a clown.”

  She looked him over, a vaguely familiar air about him which she couldn’t quite place. “Oh, um, I’m not in that business anymore, actually. Good luck to you though.”

  “You think you could give me a referral?”

  “A—?” She took a closer look—something about the man’s painted face registering in her memory. “Do I know you?”

  “Not really,” he said, a smile distorting his painted frown. “But yer gonna.” His arm shot out in a flash, the black device in his hand sputtering a metallic clicking sound. Electric pain shot through Kat’s body; she wasn’t even sure he’d touched her. But it also didn’t matter, and that was the last thing she realized before he scooped her up in a cradle-carry, holding her terribly close to his chest and whispering, “I got you now.”

  Kat woke startled, looking around with foggy vision, a dull hum in her ears. Her head was throbbing, the muscles aching all over her body. She tried to move but couldn’t, and that sudden inability threw bolts of panic through her body and mind, heart jumping to a faster pace. Her arms were behind her back, handcuffed, the metal already digging into her arms. She looked around to see herself in a small chair, a position she’d been in before, her ankles securely bound to one another. But this time they were cuffed, cold and mean—the little chain rattle between the two metal shackles.

  Her limbs instinctively tested the cuffs and they held tight. Not only were her ankles and wrists cuffed to one another, they were cuffed to the chair by a second set, metal clacking and clinking as she tried to get away.

  Her mouth was filled with some clump of material—a washrag or a tube sock, and it was held in place by a tight cleave-gag that pushed in between her teeth.

  She looked around, everything about her situation both familiar and surprising. Is it Carter, she wondered, is he behind this? Is this another game, another thrill?

  But that thought was driven away by the more confusing familiarity of the cabin around her, Lake Melody lapping easily outside the back porch. Is that Lake Melody? Is this…is this Mitchell’s big red cabin?

  Just one more glance around the cabin confirmed it—the furnishings she knew as well as her own, the kitchen where she and Mitchell had tried to have sex so many times.

  Mitchell!

  “Rise and shine,” the man’s voice said, snapping her head to the side to find its source. He sauntered into the room, freshly dressed in what seemed like Mitchell’s clothes. But this man wasn’t Mitchell. Instead of Mitchell’s short, black hair and clean-shaven face, this man was beefy and balding and had a mean sneer.

  “How’s it goin’, baby doll?” Kat flinched and pulled, the cuffs biting into her skin as he approached her. “Save your strength, gorgeous.” Standing in front of her, he grabbed her chin and pulled her face up to look at him. “I want as much of it as I can get.”

  She pulled her face away and he chuckled, stepping away toward the kitchen. She knew him from somewhere, but she couldn’t quite place it. She tried to review the few friends of Mitchell’s that she knew, but it occurred to her then that she didn’t know any of them as part of his double-life strategy.

  What’s Mitchell got planned? What’s going on here?

  The man came back, a fresh can of beer in his hands. She peered at him, trying to see through her headache and confusion.

  “Y’still don’t get it, d’ya?” He shook his head and sat down on the arm of the sofa, close to the couch. “Hank Matthews, you dummy! You worked my nephew’s birthday party in Central Park—that homeless guy showed up?”

  It flashed back to her: the man’s aggressive come-on, chatting with his friend behind the tree. Who was that? Could it have been…Mitchell? No, impossible! But…then what am I doing here in Mitchell’s cabin with this man?

  “I saw you, kickin’ that guy’s ass, I gotta tell ya. But it busted my cock big-time when you shot me down; that wasn’t cool. It wasn’t cool. But y’know what? I was gonna let it go. Lot’s o’ fish in that sea, right?” He took a big, wet slurp of his Bud Light. “Then I get a call—changes my life.”

  Kat knew he was getting to the crux of it, the connection between him and Mitchell. The only problem was that she didn’t want to know.

  “But that’s neither here nor there,” he said, standing up and approaching her in that chair, beer can in his hand. “Main thing is, here you are and here I am.” He raised the beer can to her cheek and she flinched, pulling her face away. “Wassa matter,” he asked, lowering the can to trace the curves of her shoulder to her breasts, “don’t drink?”

  He dragged the beer can over her breasts, her button-down blouse and bra the only thing protecting her dignity. She knew that wouldn’t last long.

  He slurped down the beer and tossed it across the cabin, his hand harshly grabbing her breast. He leaned in and laughed into her face—breath stinking, face ugly and contorted, hand squeezing her hard and twisting with a graceless venom that couldn’t possibly have brought anybody pleasure.

  She leaned hard to the other side but couldn’t get away from his menacing clutches, knowing that once his chuckling died down and his fascination with mauling her chest faded, he’d move on to more fascinating regions.

  His hands were awkward as he stroked her thighs—a nasty and clumsy, nothing like the grace and power of Carter’s approach. She couldn’t help but think of Carter in that moment, the vast difference between her actual peril and the sumptuous delight of their role-play. The more frightened she was to be there, the greater a difference she could see between the two worlds. With Carter on that first date, she’d been Lena Flowers.

  On this day she was Kathleen Le Fleur, and she was about to be raped and then murdered.

  Chapter 27

  Kat

  “What, you don’t wanna let me in there, huh?” Kat grunted into her gag and tried to pull away, sneering at Hank Matthews as he groped her. But she knew the psychology of the situation, that her struggling only turned him on. Still, it was beyond her to sit there stock still, which would only have frustrated him more, perhaps to violence. No, she told herself, play along until the time is right, then kick this punk’s ass!

  He chuckled, strolling off to the kitchen for another beer. Coming back, he asked her, “It’s weird, isn’t it? Being here…with me? Tell you the truth, I didn’t even know the dumb jerk who lived here. Didn’t need to know him. Alls I needed to do was wack him, drop him into the lake o
ut there, a nice shiny pair of cement shoes on for his big goin’ away party. And boom, I get the cabin!” He broke out laughing, shaking his head and slurping down a good half of the can before pulling it away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the can.

  This doesn’t make any sense, she tried putting the pieces together. This guy was stalking me from the party, so he kills Mitchell and takes the cabin? There must be lawyers, relatives, that’s…wait…Mitchell’s wife!

  “Beautiful thing is, don’t nobody know but that hag Barbara Jarvis, and I’m gonna drop her down right next to you!” He burst out laughing again, flecks of beer spit hitting her in the face. She tried to turn away, but there was nowhere to go and no place to hide. He drained the beer can and tossed it aside, releasing a long, loud burp, gurgling and grotesque. He undid his belt. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Barbara Jarvis entered through the front door, sounds distant, her footsteps getting louder as she stepped into the central room of the cabin. “What’s this? You’re still playing around with her?”

  “She just woke up!”

  Barbara shook her head, walking casually across the room to her. “Hi again, sweetie. Bet you didn’t expect to be seeing me again, eh?”

  “She didn’t expect nothin’.”

  But Barbara only snarled at her accomplice. “You were supposed to have been done with her by now. It’s getting dark. I don’t want you out on the water in the middle of the night; someone’ll see.”

  “Why don’t we just wait ’til early morning?”

  “When the locals are out fishing? That’s fucking brilliant, Hank!” Now put a bag over her head and get it over with. You’ve still got the concrete to mix.”

  These words sank into Kat’s brain and her gut, goose bumps pushed up all over her body. She pulled and wriggled again, instinct urging her toward a desperate bid to escape. There was no more role-playing to be done. Now it was a matter of survival, and those odds were slim at best.

  “Hey,” Hank said, pointing an angry finger into Barbara’s aging face, “you don’t give me orders, awright?”

  Barbara put up her empty hands, palms flat. “Okay, sure, whatever. You just have your fun, do what you want. Maybe…maybe I can watch?”

  Hank looked Barbara up and down and shrugged. “If you keep yer mouth shut, I don’t give a shit what you do.”

  “Okay, good,” Barbara muttered, reaching into her purse as she turned away from him, “that’s fine then.” She moved fast, the same little black stun gun she’d used on Kat in her right hand, quick to push it into Hank’s side and incapacitate him, probably for good.

  But Hank was faster, and he grabbed her wrist before she could make contact, the black device harmless in her frenzied grip. She looked at him, surprised and angry, teeth gritted. He said, “Didn’t you think I’d guess that you’d stab me in the back, you bitch?”

  “I’m not—I wasn’t, but you’re out of control! Just let me take care of it!”

  They wrenched from side to side, the center of their focus that devious little machine in Barbara’s hand. It came closer and closer to her, the muscles of her arm straining.

  Kat looked on in shock, captive to that chair, knowing that her fate lay in the hands of the victor of that terrible struggle. Either way, her fate would be bad, the worst; the only real question was going to be how long before she was released from the torture of her last hours?

  Hank and Barbara smashed into a lamp, sending it crashing to the ground, the stun gun still volatile between them. It came closer to Barbara, all forces slowly working against her. And even during that desperate struggle, Kat could see the fear in Barbara’s eyes, the knowledge that those deadly silver electrodes were going to reach her.

  “Don’t do it,” she rasped at him, voice quivering. “I’ve got all the money; you need me for the money!”

  But Hank just grinned, pushing that stun gun even closer, just a few inches from doing its terrible duty. “Oh yeah? You don’t bank online, do you?”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you do now…or at least you used to!” With that and another rush of strength, Hank shoved the stun gun into Barbara’s chest and, his hand over hers, squeezed the button. With that distinctive crackle, Barbara’s body convulsed and quivered, losing all control.

  Hank yanked the stun gun out of her hand and let her body fall to the floor. He looked down at her and spewed out a terrible laughter, bloodlust ripe in his howling glee. He bent down and shocked her again, her limp body jittering and jutting like a fish on the deck of a boat. Hank stopped, then returned the stun gun for another pointless and cruel round of electrocution, Barbara’s body reacting only out of nervous response. The smell of burnt hair filled Kat’s nostrils, nearly causing her to vomit into her gag.

  Hank stood, still looking down at Barbara’s body. He growled, dissatisfied with literally electrocuting her to death. He started kicking her, harder and harder with every strike, screaming at her, “Nobody treats me like that, you hear me? Nobody tells me what to do, nobody ever! Not this little bitch and not you either; you got that? You got that?”

  But Barbara offered no answer, blood seeping out of a fresh wound in her forehead.

  Hank finally tired of it, his amusement and fury dying down as he stepped away from Barbara’s body and returned his attention to Kat in that chair. “Awright then,” he said, wiping the drool from his chin, “I guess we know who’s in charge now, eh?”

  Hank pulled a set of keys from his pants pocket and crouched down at her feet. He unlocked the pair of cuffs attaching her ankles to the chair, leaving the cuffs connecting her ankles together in place. She instantly kicked at him, Hank laughing at her desperate attempt to repel him. He wrapped his arms around her legs to pin them, then rubbed his other hand over her thighs. “Oh yeah, I like it when they struggle. And you? You’re gonna give me the ride of my life, honey…and the last ride of yours!”

  He walked around and unlocked her wrists from the back of the chair, leaving them bound together as he lifted her up off the chair. He dragged her away from it even while she pulled and twisted, nearly tripping over Barbara’s body.

  “Sorry about the mess,” he said with a mean grin, “I’ll clean it up later…you too. Don’t worry, it’ll hurt like hell!” He broke out in another mean laugh and dragged her, hopping and flailing against him as that bedroom came closer and closer. She’d been there before, voluntarily, but this time everything was different. Everything was upside-down, and she could hardly deny that she’d had a pivotal role in destroying her own world, herself. Unfolding before her, her life was about to end, she was certain of that. And it wouldn’t come too soon as far as she was concerned.

  Chapter 28

  Kat

  Hank dragged Kat into the bedroom, her feet pressing against the floor as he pushed her; she had no real hope of obstructing his hideous goal. Once they were in the bedroom, her thrashing became more furtive and urgent.

  It was the last stop on the torture train, barreling right toward the end of the line.

  Hank threw her onto the bed, making her bounce on the mattress, while she looked up at him in quiet anger. He pulled off his shirt, looking her over with a hungry grin. “I been waitin’ fer this a long time.” He followed it with a long, low chuckle. “I knew first time I saw you that you’d be a hot lay—real strong, a fighter. I like that. Tell you the truth, that’s what turned me on to begin with. When you hit that homeless cuck, I nearly busted a nut!”

  Kat tried to roll to the side, but she knew there was nowhere to go and no way to get there. “I can’t lie t’ya,” Hank said, “soon as that bitch Barbara called me, she said you’d mentioned me to that dimwit dummy at the bottom of Lake Melody, my first thought was fucking the wholly shit outta you. I couldn’t believe my luck! At first, ’course, my buddy talked me down. Hey, I’d been drinkin’, what can I tell ya. But when I got that call, I knew it was God Himself talkin’ to me.”

  “Can you
believe it?” He cackled out another stream of laughter, his hand clumsily groping her thighs. “Two months ago, I was in construction! Now I’ve got this writer’s whole bank account, control of his assets, his cabin…and they dropped it right in my lap!” He laughed some more, patting her legs and giving them a final rub, as if for luck. “Just goes to show you…Trump was right; he really is making America great again!” Another spew of spittle-frothed laughter punctuated his absurd analysis. But Kat wasn’t interested in talking politics. She only wanted to escape, to survive, to kick this murderous rapist animal’s ass. Nothing else mattered.

  The front door crashed open in the distance, Hank turning as footsteps echoed in the living room, getting louder fast. Kat looked up from the bed to see Carter rushing into the room, Hank ready to greet him with a flurry of punches.

  Carter was burly and strong, but so was Hank, and the second man had a wicked aggression that was going to be hard to match. Luckily for Kat, Carter was fueled by love and vengeance, a powerful combination of its own.

  Hank threw a hard right cross, making perfect contact and sending Carter stumbling backward. Hank wrapped his hands around Carter’s neck, the two men grappling, Carter clinging to his arms. They stumbled to the bed and fell. Kat tried to roll out of the way, but it was too late and they fell onto her, their combined weight pressing down on her legs, knees close to breaking. And she was helpless to protect Carter, beneath his adversary, his face red and nearing purple.

  With a thrust of strength, Carter threw another hard right to Hank’s cheek and then a second, finally breaking the pitch of Hank’s strength enough to throw the man off him. Carter was quick to jump off the bed and follow Hank, the two men once more trading blows, staggering out into the living room.

  Kat’s mind was going a mile a minute. How the hell did Carter get here? How could he have known? But her memory flashed on a conversation she’d had with him, telling Carter about Mitchell and his big, red cabin by Lake Melody. When I wasn’t there for our lunch meeting, he must have figured it out!