I believe we can help one another out and I know you and your son will benefit from my offer.
You see… my aunt is up in years and I would like to offer you an apartment, furnished of course, and an income for caring for her. There really isn’t much to do as she is in good health. Your biggest job would be as a companion and helping to take her to the grocery store and run errands and such. Of course, a car will be provided for you to do so.
If you would be so kind as to accompany my driver, he will take you to meet her and see the residence. I know this will be beneficial for you in the sense of not having to remain at your late night job and it will also enable you to move out of the neighborhood you have been subjected to.
Please be rest assured I am safe and I expect nothing in return—nothing but the peace of mind knowing my elderly aunt is being cared for by someone as kind hearted as yourself.
Sincerely, A Robin Hood of sorts.
I look up to see the driver smiling and holding out his arm as if there is no doubt that I will be accompanying him for the job.
As if reading my mind, he speaks, “Ms. Melanie, there is a car seat in the car and coffee at the drive-thru on the way. I can smell yours brewing so I know you haven’t had yours yet this morning,” he states when I eye him like he’s crazy.
“Because you have the appearance of a professional driver and because I would do just about anything to get my son out of this neighborhood, I am going to accompany you to meet this this mysterious aunt.”
“Very well, Ms. Melanie.”
I turn off the coffee, grab my purse, and pick up Tommy before I change my mind. Answering a cryptic request is totally out of character for me. I know even though I can’t remember details from last night, it did shake me up. If something would have happened to me, my son would be an orphan. I owe him more than that. I need to at least check this elderly woman out. If she needs someone and she can provide a decent place for my son and me to live, I am going to take her up on her offer. I’m desperate for a way out of my terrible living situation, and I’m even more desperate to get Tommy out of the neighborhood we live in before he is old enough to be thrown into the drug culture. I have seen too many kids peddling dope just to fit in, or just to help their families out financially.
The driver’s voice cuts through my thoughts as he asks what kind of coffee I prefer. I can’t help but take note of how educated this man sounds. It is evident my Robin Hood is very wealthy—another reason I feel safe about going to meet his aunt. People who have a lot to lose don’t throw it away for some nobody like me. I order a latte and I’m embarrassed I don’t have the money to pay for it. I can’t remember the last time I had good coffee and I nurse it, savoring the aroma as well as the flavor.
“There are teething cookies located in the diaper bag which has been prepared for you, Ma’am. Giving him one will keep him from eyeing that coffee you have.” I look over and see a designer diaper bag I hadn’t even noticed. I look up to see a twinkle in the driver’s eye as he speaks. “Go ahead; it’s your bag now. The boss had that, as well as other items, purchased for you.”
As if reading my thoughts, he continues talking. “I know this probably seems very odd to you, but my boss is big into philanthropy and he just wants to help you.”
“I’m not a charity case,” I bark out before taking time to think.
“He doesn’t perceive you as such. He does view hiring you as beneficial to everyone involved and he is a very skilled businessman like that. It’s just how his mind works. Thinking that way has worked very well for not only him, but his employees in the past. When my boss envisions a project, or a prospective job, it usually means more than just one person will benefit. Such will be the case of you caring for Ms. Jones.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
We pull into a driveway connected to a home which looks like it came out of a suburban sitcom. Everything is pristine, right down to the landscaping.
“Come,” the driver speaks as he opens the door for my son and me to easily exit the luxury Cadillac.
“We will look at the apartment first and see if it is to your liking.”
To my liking? Normally no one gives a shit about what I like or don’t like.
Tommy bounces in my arms, still gleefully sucking on the teething cookie the driver provided. We make our way to the back of the house and I already know I’m going to love it here. The apartment looks like something from a fairytale and it only gets better when he unlocks the door.
We walk in and there is a dining area and kitchen to the right. A living room sits off to the left. Someone has taken great care to furnish this place and it is beautiful. It has a contemporary country look and feel to it which makes it immediately feel very homey. It’s just the kind of place I would love to see my son grow up in.
I make my way through the apartment and back into the master bedroom with an adjoining full bathroom. Everything is perfect. The huge antique poster bed with a flowered duvet and plush pillows is the central piece of furniture. The room also houses a dresser, a chest of drawers, a vanity—complete with high end cosmetics and beauty supplies—and a wardrobe, not to mention the huge flat screen TV on the wall. I make my way around the room touching things, as if it will solidify the reality of it all. A walk-in closet catches my eye and I carefully make my way into it, pulling Tommy’s saliva filled, cookie stained hands back from the designer clothing. Curiosity causes me to look at the tags but, instinctively, I already know they are my size. Now I’m a little freaked out. This mysterious man is proving to be very precise in matters that pertain to my son and me. Who is this guy?
I look up to see the driver holding an expensive cell phone out for me to take. “It’s the boss. He is certain you have questions.”
My hand trembles as I take the phone and try to juggle my son in my other arm.
“May I?” The driver asks, offering to hold him.
I hand Tommy to him and speak into the phone, “Hello?”
The rich baritone voice on the other end of the line makes me wonder what the man behind that sexy ass voice looks like.
“I’m certain you have questions, Melanie. I want you to stay at the apartment. Everything you and Tommy need has been adequately provided for you. If you have need of anything else, you may call me on this cell phone you are presently using. This is your cell phone and it has my number already programmed into it. You have also been provided with a top of the line laptop which is located in your office.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t like being questioned Melanie, but I will allow it due to the circumstances. I have already informed you through my driver, my aunt is in need of a caretaker of sorts. She adores children and she will adore you, just as I already do. Now be a good girl and go meet her and get settled into your new home.”
“Wait a minute, what is your name?”
“You may address me as Sir… and Melanie, I will be very displeased if you go back to that dump of an apartment you used to live in. Is that understood?”
Not completely understanding why, I answer. “Yes, Sir…”
Chapter Eight
Black Rose
I hang up the phone and make my way back out to the sun room where I am having tea with my mother, Rose Wentworth.
“Oh my,” she states. “It seems they have dubbed this serial killer The Black Rose Killer.
“If you ask me he is doing society a favor,” I answer, speaking more to myself than her. “Killing off the dregs of society, they should give him a medal.”
“Charles, I’ve not raised you to be so callous towards those less fortunate.”
“Well, Mother, it’s the truth. As far as I’m concerned, he is only taking out the trash, ridding us of crime and disease. Where is father? Away on another business trip, no doubt?” I sarcastically deduce.
“What are you implying, Charles?”
“I think that we both know what I’m implyin
g, Mommy Dearest.”
“That’s just not true!” she denies, “and I don’t appreciate your insinuation.”
“Still the queen of denial I see. Huh, Mother?”
“I’ll hear no such thing. Now, hush.”
“Yes, Mother,” I answer, but not without rolling my eyes.
My mother lives her life in denial. It is how she copes with the stressors that come with my family’s wealth and prestige. In Rose Wentworth’s mind, all is well and every day is a good day.
Chapter Nine
Dr. Anderson
“Bill,” Evelyn’s voice screeches from the adjoining office.
Though her voice grates on my last nerve, I smile as my thoughts give way to my imagination. I can see myself placing my large hands around my fiancée’s throat and squeezing until her eyes bulge from their sockets. I am almost amused as I picture the shocked look that would ensue as I inform her I am the man who has been killing women throughout the city of Louisville, just so I can have sex with their cold, lifeless corpses.
My plan is working perfectly. Our engagement picture was front page news on the Courier Journal’s society page this morning. Of course, my fiancée is ecstatic about all the attention she is receiving. She has no idea that I know she is only marrying me for the prestige I bring to the table. She also has no idea that I’m using her as a cover for my alter ego. No one will suspect a man of my standing to be a serial killer—a sick necrophiliac who gets off on literally fucking women to death.
A dead body tells no tales. A dead body doesn’t argue about sex or kink. Most of all, though, a dead body just feels so fucking right.
Selena
I sit in front of the mirror and assess my life—it sucks. I had gotten into the escort business when I was twenty and now it seems as if overnight, twenty-nine is upon me. How the fuck did that many years fly by so fast?
I had been working in a club for a man named Antonio Wayne. He had been gracious enough to bring me in from Colombia to give me a chance at a better life. The ties he and his brother Ricardo have make it easy to bring girls over here to work.
Antonio was good to me, but his heart belonged to the woman his brother had given him, Roxanne. From the day she arrived as payment for money she had stolen from Ricardo, Antonio had eyes for no one else. It was like she bewitched him.
Diego had been visiting his club in New York when he saw me and showed an interest in me. Just like that, Antonio gave me to him as if I was nothing more than property. The next morning, I was on a plane with Diego and headed back to his home in Louisville, KY.
I guess the best way to describe my owner Diego is that he is a pimp. I work for a pimp and my life is a haze of drugs and sleeping with different men every night. It’s not that he isn’t good to me; there are women who would kill to have Diego as their pimp. I wear designer clothes, I date only the richest and most elite men in the city, and I have access to the best drugs. The truth is, though, no matter how good all of that sounds, I’m tired and I’m getting older with each day that passes.
Tears fall down my cheeks as I see the one man I had imagined being my ticket out. Right there on the front page is my best customer, with his fiancée, announcing their engagement. She isn’t even pretty; plain would be the best description of her. She has brown hair, brown eyes, and a big, fat engagement ring I had foolishly hoped would one day be on the fourth finger of my left hand.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! I’m so tired of fucking men I hate and now my best client is getting married. A part of me is saddened. Even though Dr. Bill Anderson isn’t much to look at, there is a part of me that daydreamed about marrying him and being taken away from all of the madness in my life.
This lifestyle I chose was only supposed to last for a couple of years. Like so many other women in my situation, time has snuck up on me and I’m aging out. I’m at a crossroads in my life. I need to either find another job and get out of this lifestyle completely, or take a bottle of prescription drugs and end it all. I could always OD on the cocaine my pimp so graciously provides me with. I breathe in deeply as I apply my make-up in a desperate attempt to try and hide the evidence of my pity party and the inevitable marks of age. I look myself in the eye one last time and think, not today, live to fight another day…
Agent Turner
I’m dressed in my standard black suit and standing over a man who is no more a drug dealer than I am. “This guy isn’t a drug dealer,” I argue with my partner.
“The drugs are right there in his pocket.” Rene stands, waving the large baggie at me. I can see the smaller baggies inside, full of drugs separated and ready for individual sale, as Rene points trying to prove her point.
“Things aren’t always what they seem and you know that.”
“It’s cut and dry, Agent Turner. Her addressing me by my title is said in a smart ass tone. “For all we know, this is a drive-by shooting.”
“More like an execution,” I argue. “It’s time to hit the streets and see if anyone saw anything. I’m certain with those projects across the street someone was being nosey and saw this shooting. Whether you want to admit it or not, we’re dealing with three different M.O.s—Black Rose, our online dater, and this execution.”
“You don’t think people are trying to copycat Black Rose, do you?”
“I hope the hell not. This Black Rose case has done what I hate most; it has taken on a life of its own. It is completely out of control.”
“Since when did you become all about control, Agent Turner?”
“I’ve always been all about control. That is, until I met you.” She bends down and whispers in my ear, “well you make certain to remember I’m all about control too. You may run things at work, but when you take your ass home at night, I’m in charge. Right about now would be a good time for you to say, ‘yes, Ma’am’.”
My cock jumps as I whisper the words she wants to hear, “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good boy,” she coos and I go from my cock jumping to a full-fledged hard on. I don’t know exactly what it is about this woman but whatever it is, I like it and I want more…
Melanie
I make my way around the apartment, touching all the nice things I would never be able to afford on my meager waitressing income. I still have not met the mystery man who sent the driver to bring me here. I’m impressed by the attention to detail this stranger has shown in all of his purchases for my son and me.
I look at my son, who is dressed in brand name, designer, baby clothes, and my heart swells with pride. Along with that pride is the immense relief I feel now that my son is in a much better living situation. Despite all of that, though, I’m plagued with questions and they are birthing a need in me to find out the identity of this mystery man. I grab Tommy and make my way up to the house of the older woman I will be taking care of.
I immediately feel comfortable upon her answering the door. She makes her way into the living room and sits, reaching for Tommy. He leaps forward towards her as if she is his long lost grandmother.
She chuckles as she eyes him chewing his fist and asks, “He is teething; has he been fussy?”
“He is never fussy.”
“That reminds me of my Charles, but he was always so serious, not happy like your boy. I was never able to have children and that sister of mine was always so preoccupied with her social status that she never had time for the poor boy. Why, I practically raised him myself.”
I saw this as my chance to ask some questions.
“Charles, you say? And what is his last name?
“Charles Wentworth III.”
“Do you have any pictures?”
“Why I have a newspaper article right here.”
I resist the urge to stare slack-jawed when I view him for the first time. He is absolutely gorgeous. Copper curls cover the head of an athletically built man with the bluest, most intense eyes I have ever seen.
“He’s quite handsome, Miss Jones.”
My head jerks around when I h
ear a deep, baritone voice speak. “Well thank you, Melanie.” I can feel heat flood over my face as I turn to see the man who is now standing in the doorway and looking at me as if he can see into my soul.
“Aunt Josephine, please watch Tommy while I speak with our guest.”
“Take your time,” she answers, as Charles holds his hand out in my direction. I take his hand and he escorts me as we make our way to the screened in front porch and back to my apartment.
Black Rose
A feeling of satisfaction goes through me when I view her hand shaking and she drops the keys due to her nervousness. I bend down, take the keys, and open the door for her. As soon as she enters and closes the door, I palm the doorframe at each side of her head, preventing her escape as I stare her down.
“You’re a very curious, little kitten aren’t you?” I don’t give her time to answer. “Asking questions behind my back? Be very careful, kitten. You may find out more than you are ready for.” She’s so fucking skittish and it’s turning me on so I purposely say something that will shock her. “Are you fucking anyone?” Again, I give her no time to respond. I just take one finger and place it under her chin, lifting it up and forcing her to look at me. “If you are, dump the guy. I. Don’t. Share.”
She bites her bottom lip and nods her head.
I lean into her ear and whisper, “Yes, Sir.”
Immediately, she says it and I know I have picked the right trainee.
“That means Tommy’s dad too.”
“I haven’t seen him since before Tommy was born.”
“Good, we understand one another.”
I never remove my eyes from her as I begin to unbutton her shirt. I spread it open and pop a tit over the bra I instantly recognize. Satisfaction courses through me over the fact that she is wearing it.
“Who bought you that bra?”
“You did.”
I lap over a nipple with my tongue as I slide my hand down the front of her skirt. I dip my fingers down into the underwear I bought her. “You belong to me now…mine.” I plunge my finger into her at the exact second I say mine and circle her clit with my thumb. I suck on her nipple until her legs are shaking and she comes for me. I raise my finger to my lips and suck her juices off as I stare into her eyes. A coldness comes over me as I clamp down on her chin with my thumb and forefinger until she winces. “If you ever come without my permission again, I’ll hurt you. I enjoy coming up with ways to torment a woman and I can assure you that you will only disobey me once. I lean in and nuzzle in her hair as I speak. “That goes for spreading your legs at night and finger fucking yourself while you play with your clit too. I own your orgasms now. If I catch you stealing what belongs to me, I’ll blister your ass until you can’t sit down. Now, go get your son.”
Black Rose Page 5