Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition

by Laurel L. Russwurm

  After all, it's skive Thursday. Barbie always did cut the last class so she could get her salon hit. A girl needs to get her nails done.

  He is breathing heavily now, the corners of his mouth twitching as he waits. The spliff is done. He carefully stubs it out on an empty matchbook, then places it in an envelope in his inside breast pocket.

  Looking down, he sees they haven't just swept, they've scraped off a layer of dirt from around the tree stump. He scuffs the bits of ash into the dirt. No DNA from ash. He smiles, tucking his hands into his armpits.

  Footsteps. Glancing at his watch he knows it could be her. No talking. It isn't like she has friends. An entourage maybe. Fans. High heels clattering. Good. He stands up. He can see her beautiful golden hair, floating in a cloud. Never dressed warmly enough for the weather. She goes around the curve of the path and he steps forward to follow her.

  He's ready. He knows it's now or never. Increasing his speed, he closes the gap between them. He can tell just when she hears him, she tenses up a walks faster. He smiles. How fast can you go in those stupid shoes?

  As he continues to close the gap he watches the way the heels make her butt move. Sensual.

  Maybe that's all it was. Shoes.

  Suddenly she stops, and whirls around to face him, Her hand is extended toward him, arm straight. What has she got pointed at him . . . oh, mace. Time to play. He stops. Draws back, raises his hands in mock surrender.

  “Hey, it's just me,” he says. She lowers her hand, looking over at him.

  Barbie shakes her head at her foolishness when she recognizes him. She smiles an automatic greeting. Good. She feels foolish. Guilty. Use it.

  “Where are you going?” asks Barbie.

  “I'm just starting a part time job. Um, could I . . . ? ” He wiggles his hands above his head, reminding her she has the drop on him.

  “Oh sorry, Jose.” Barbie grins. “Sorry, you gave me a scare.” She stuffs the mace tube in her pocket.

  He shakes his head. “That's okay. I gotta hurry if I'm gonna make the bus.” He fingers the scarf in his pocket as he starts to pass her, but she reaches up and touches him.

  “I can give you a ride.”

  He stops and turns to face her. “Okay.” He can feel his heart pounding. He looks down at her. She's smiling up at him, lips parted. She's so beautiful he can hardly breathe. He places his hands on her shoulders and bends down and kisses her. She responds with a passion that overwhelms him and for one brief shining moment it is enough.

  The kiss deepens and she closes her eyes and pushes in closer, rubbing her body against his, hard, like an animal in heat. He's tempted. Last week it would have been everything.

  Not anymore. His hands slide across her shoulders and encircle her neck. Her eyes fly open when he starts to squeeze.

  He can see the fear in her eyes . . . she has learned enough anatomy to know that this pressure will at the least render her unconscious.

  He feels the power as he continues the kiss, but now it's lost all pretense; it's an honest straightforward violation as his lips block her mouth from screaming and his tongue retracts from the attack launched by her teeth.

  Still, he maintains the pressure, keeping her mouth sealed. He notices that her hands have been scrabbling at him. The impacts of her ineffectual fists are muffled by the thickness of his coat. She tries to kick him, twist, pull away but he can see that she knows she's losing it here . . . she is not getting enough air . . . her resistance is waning, her strength trickling away.

  He feels triumphant as her ungloved hands flutter up toward him in supplication. He's starting to smile when the fluttering hands transform into talons and rake the sides of his face. The sting is sharp, he can feel wetness on his cheek. Grimly he tightens his grip ignoring the pain and she slumps. Finally. He opens his hands allowing her to slip through his fingers, and fall into a rag doll sprawl in the mud.

  He looks down at her laying there, legs splayed, skirt hiked up, undone jacket only partially covering her. He runs his palms down his cheeks and comes away bloody.

  Bitch scratched him.

  He kneels and slides his hands under her armpits, trying to get a grip, but at best it's an awkward embrace. This won't work. Instead, moves around to her side, sliding one arm under her neck, and the other under her butt.

  Bracing himself he takes a deep breath and lifts. Once standing it's not so bad. Still, they make this shit look so much easier in the movies. She smells just as good as ever, even if she looks a mess.

  He stares at the woman cradled in his arms. She shudders and sucks in a breath. Not dead then. But still unconscious.

  Good. Gotta get her off the path. For a brief moment he thinks he should have gone with her to her car. It's too far now. She's much heavier than he thought.

  Back to plan A. He carries her dead weight off the path and back into the bushes. He lays her down on the clean patch by the stump, but he knows this is much too close to the path.

  But first he has to clean up.

  Jose hurries back to the walkway and gathers up her purse and her laptop. Some of the vegetation is looking a little too smashed so he gives it a bit of a fluff up with his toe before carrying her things back to be deposited on the stump.

  chapter 136 . . .

  The computer class is breaking up and students are streaming out. Krystal is almost packed when she sees Oscar and Maggie with their heads bent together, already packed up. Oscar glances over at her, looking at her funny. OMG, he better not be thinking about hitting on her. She is so not into these pasty white geeks. Especially arrogant jerks like Oz. Guy thinks he's so charming when he's really only pretentious.

  Kate slides into the seat usually occupied by Adam, Maggie perches on the desk. Kate glances around, pleased to see that the class has left them with the room to themselves.

  “What's up?” Krystal asks Kate.

  Maggie says, “Just wanted to ask you something.”

  “Sure. Just make it quick. Got a meeting with my faculty adviser.”

  Maggie nods her head. “It can be quick. I wanted to ask you . . .” Maggie studies Krystal's face and decides to hit her with it full on. “How could you lie about dying?”

  Kate notes that Krystal hasn't even flinched.

  Krystal says, “I didn't lie to you. Why would anybody lie about something like that? You dragged it out of me, Maggie. And honestly, this isn't in very good taste.”

  Kate says, “Come on, Christine, if it didn't work the first time why did you think it'd work this time?”

  Krystal realizes the game is up. That fucking Dave. She knew he'd ruin everything. “It did work the first time. And it would have worked this time too if you boneheads would have told him. God, what a bunch of losers I confided in.”

  Maggie just stares at her in shock. “You . . . don't think you did anything wrong.”

  Krystal stares back. “Of course I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't take your money. I didn't punch you out. All I did was take you into my confidence.”

  “Yeah, it was a confidence trick alright,” agrees Maggie.

  “No it wasn't. I didn't con you out of any money, I just I told you stuff that any real friend would have passed along to the man I loved as a kindness. But you couldn't even get that right.”

  Maggie just stares. “We were respecting your wishes.”

  Krystal glares at her a minute before saying, “Bullshit. A real friend would have told Jose how awesome I was and how I needed him. A real friend would have helped me.”

  Maggie shakes her head. “I guess you don't understand respect. Any more than you understand about real friendship.”

  Krystal laughs harshly. “You bitches just better be careful about spreading any slander about me. My Dad's a lawyer and I'll make sure you pay for it if you do.”

  Maggie says, “The legal defence against slander is truth, and we have that on our side.”

  Krystal glowers. “You think? I haven't admitted a thing.”

  �
��You told me that you were dying.” Maggie says.

  “Isn't everybody?”

  “You said you had an inoperable brain tumour . . .”

  Krystal stares at her. “Says you.”

  “You did say that.”

  “So what?” Krystal laughs. “I think it would boil down to a classic case of she says she says in a court of law. It could go either way so you'd better not try it. My Dad would take you to the cleaners. Not that he'd get much out of you losers.”

  Kate shakes her head ruefully. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that. Especially since your mother busted you the last time. Even if your father really is a lawyer I doubt he'd risk his livelihood helping you commit perjury.”

  “That shows how much you know.” Krystal stands up.

  Maggie stands up too, staring at this woman she has lost sleep over, ached over, cared about. This woman she thought was a friend. Maggie says, “Do what you want, Krystal, Christine, whatever the hell your name is, but I won't stand by and let you hurt anyone else with your lies.”

  Krystal glares back defiantly. “You can't make me leave Christie. I have a right to be here.”

  “That's up to you. But if I hear about you spreading any more lies I will bust you to the whole school. Understand?”

  Krystal draws herself up. “You think? I got nothing to lose if I speak my mind. I might have to tell people about how Nick put the moves on me.”

  Maggie is aghast at this threat but Kate laughs out loud. “You go right ahead, Christine. If you think you can find one person who'll believe it more power to you. I think you're just going to find yourself in a world of trouble girl.”

  “You're not such hot shit Kate. You're just jealous of me.”

  Kate snorts derisively, stepping closer to Krystal, getting in her face. “You just don't get it, do you?”

  “The only thing to 'get' is away from you losers.”

  “You stepped over the line. You've been outed. Enough people know about your BS that any attempt at a smear campaign will backfire on you so big that you won't have any choice but to leave the school. It might already be too late. You're on probation. Step over the line and the sky will fall.”

  Krystal glares at Kate. “You are so enjoying this.”

  Kate grins, crossing her arms, “You know, I am, Christine. I am enjoying this.”

  “What a bitch.” Krystal grabs her things and stomps out.

  Maggie simply slumps back down into her chair. Kate turns to her friend. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. No. I guess . . . I guess I didn't really believe she lied. Intellectually, yeah, sure, it made sense in a warped sort of way. But emotionally? How could someone do something like that? I mean she is supposed to be our friend but it was all bullshit to get her the guy she wants? How could she do that?”

  “Classic definition of a sociopath.” Kate says, “I think she made it pretty clear the only person she cares about is herself. We aren't real to her.”

  “You got that right. I saw it. But I still don't hardly believe it. It's incredible, she didn't even really try to deny it.”

  “She was expecting it, Maggie. I'll bet you anything she saw Dave with Adam. That would explain why she skipped the meeting the other night. Lets just cut class. Go to a movie or something.”

  “Or something. Hey, you know Stu said there's supposed to be some great pinball palace downtown.”

  “Pinball?”

  “Yeah, they're like really cool mechanical arcade games. They're great 'cause you get to hit the machines.”

  “That sounds cool. Where is this place.”

  Oscar pops his head in. “Got it all.”

  Kate looks up, “What?”

  Grinning, Oscar says, “I made a surveillance video.”

  “You recorded that?”

  Oscar nods. “It may do no good in a court of law but it will provide excellent corroboration should Miss Krys try anything else.”

  “We were thinking of calling it a day and going to play pinball. Wanna come?”

  Oscar nods. “Sure. But first I think we need to find Jake.”

  “Will he believe it?”

  “He will when he sees the video.”

  chapter 137 . . .

  Jose looks down at Barbie's form sprawled loosely on the muddy ground. She doesn't look like much. He drops her stuff in the dirt and takes a seat on the stump. Feeling the stirrings of excitement. He lights a joint and watches her. He wants to take his time this time. Savour it.

  He watches her breasts rise and fall, breathing regular. Bit of bruising on her neck, nothing too bad. Mud in her hair. She'd hate that the most. Hell, she got off a lot easier than that red headed girl. It was really Barbie he should have been pounding that day.

  He watches the smoke twist and writhe as it drifts upward, thinking that he can still walk away. Maybe she'd go to the cops. Maybe not though.

  He looks at her face pressed in the mud. Clothes dishevelled. Little bit of drool pooling in the corner of her mouth. This is the girl that's had him tied up in knots for so long. So messed up he hasn't been able to see straight for most of the semester.

  He takes a deep drag and really looks at her. She was always happy to smoke his drugs but he always knew that she'd never really accept him. She'd never think he was good enough. Golden girl. Princess. Cock tease. No account bitch is what she is. Doesn't look so hot now.

  He's thinking he should maybe tie her up first. Immobilize her. He looks in her purse. All kinds of crap.

  Not even dental floss. Gloves. Who knew the girl was such an idiot. Day as cold as this and her gloves are in her purse, not on her hands? Chocolate. Gum wrappers. Pantyhose? She's wearing pantyhose why does she have more in her bag?

  And the make up. Holy shit. The girl has a beauty parlour's worth of crap in here. Perfume, paints, who knows what all these tubes and bottles are. Maybe when all the crap comes off she's really a dog?

  Thick wallet. Let the wallet go. Don't touch it. He's no fucking thief, no way. He upends the purse and watches with satisfaction as the wallet bounces and everything else spills out all over the ground. Tubes scattering, bottles bouncing, keys, a metal disk rolls away into a clump of dead wildflowers. Who gives a shit. He's wearing his gloves. He's no fool.

  In fact, it's a good thing he found out what an airhead this one was. Just think, he might have married the bitch and been stuck with her his whole life. She's probably not even a real blonde like that Krystal. No way Jose. He grins to himself as he picks up her laptop bag, rifling though it. He drops the notebook computer into the dirt and pulls out the cables.

  These ought to work.

  Kneeling by her head, he grabs her under her armpits and drags her over to a sturdy young sapling at the edge of the little clearing. He wraps the power cord around one of Barbie's wrists and then pulls her cold hand above her head. He looks at her face. Yeah, she's still breathing. Just cold.

  Stupid girl not to wear her gloves. He wraps the middle of the cord around a sapling and then pulls up her other wrist so he can bind it to the end. He gets up and goes back to the pile of girl crap laying beside the stump. He picks up the gloves, admiring the softness of the leather. Too small for him, for sure, but he thinks they might make a great gag. Keep her from making noise.

  He looks over at her, with her arms stretched over her head like that, she's certainly appealing. The coat is open, and the fabric of her dress is some kind of slippery shit. Doesn't look warm. And look at those nipples poking up against the cloth. He reaches for the pantyhose, and carries it back to his dream girl. He runs his gloved finger along her lower lip and she shudders a little.

  Tucking his finger into her mouth he pulls her jaw down and starts to push a glove into her open mouth when she spasms and her teeth clamp shut like a trap. Jesus, she almost bit his finger. He tries to open her mouth again but her eyes open.

  Barbie's icy blue eyes look at him, confused.

  “Jose, what . . .” she tries to sit up and s
he realizes that her wrists are bound. “Come on Jose, this isn't a very good game. How about you untie me and we pretend none of this ever happened.”

  “This isn't a game Barbie.”

  “Look, I didn't mean to . . . give you the wrong idea, lead you on, whatever. I mean, Jose, I really like you, I've always really liked you, it's just, just, I'm just not ready to settle down. That's all. I don't want to end up married too young, that's all.”

  Jose crouches beside her. “You've played me all along. And then you just dump me like garbage. Is that what you think I am? Garbage?”

  “No, of course not. I think you're a great guy. Don't you realize how much I like you? It's not you that's the problem, it's me. Come on Jose, just help me up and we can start again, okay. Go get a cup of coffee. Sit down together and really talk about stuff, you know?”

  “I think it's too late for that.”

  “Jose, come on, let's give it a rest. Just untie me and . . .”

  “And what?” asks Jose. “You'll be my friend? No, Barbie, you were never my friend.”

  “I promise I . . .”

  Jose cuts her short with a short sharp blow to her midriff. As she gasps for air he stuffs the gloves into her mouth. She squirms as her breath comes back, trying to spit the gloves out while he in turn struggles to get the pantyhose tied around her head to hold the gloves in.

  Barbie is wriggling sideways and pulling her knees up.

  Jose realizes she's trying to get her feet under her so she can stand. No way he's letting her off that easy.

  No way.

  In a smooth motion he lets go the pantyhose ends and slams his palms squarely on her breasts. Shocked at the suddenness of the change in attack Barbie even stops trying to spit out the gloves for a moment, and Jose swings his leg over to straddle her.

  Jose has been worried that he might not be able to get it up since his failure with Mouse, but his erection is enormous. Breathless again from his weight on her stomach, Barbie looks up at him in supplication. Now she knows his power.

  With her pinned down he's finally free to tie the god damn pantyhose. He can feel her subside as she realizes how helpless she actually is. Good. Oh, he thinks, this is so much better than the red head. The blonde goddess yields to him. What a rush.