Hearts on Fire 9: Her Shadows of Light (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “I have to get you ready. You need to accept my power and to know that I have the ability to control, to create, fire.”

  She stared at him, her vision not so clear. He had dark hair, big bright gray eyes, and wore no shirt. He had muscles and was lean, but his chest had odd scars on it. They were gashes, lines of burns, and some circular ones, too.

  She fisted her hands, and the move made her underarms ache and her elbows scream in protest. What had he done to her while she passed out?

  He came closer, holding the candle in one hand then using his other hand to move over her body right above her skin. He didn’t touch her, just came so close she shivered and tightened her belly muscles, which caused her to moan and cringe.

  “So very beautiful. Your skin is soft, you’re muscular, and strong though. You’re perfection.” He pressed his palm to her belly and applied pressure to her skin. She felt the pain, the achiness, and knew she was bruised, at minimum. His hand moved lower, and his hard palm pressed deeper, making her feel as if he wanted to cause pain to her gut, but then he eased lower and pressed over her mound.

  “We’re going to be one.” He swirled his hand sideways, his fingers grazing her pussy over the panties, and she cried out.

  “Don’t touch me. Get away from me.” The tears streamed down her face, and her head pounded as her eyes lost focus. She definitely wasn’t feeling right. He said he’d given her something. He’d drugged her, the prick bastard.

  He licked his lips while letting his eyes roam over her breasts. They were barely in the cups of her bra, and she had the feeling he’d touched her as she lay there unconscious. She shivered, her body unable to remain still, as if it remembered the feel of his close proximity and what was to come.

  “I’m going to burn you, Brighid. All this practice, this conditioning, is for you so that you can handle the pain of the fire, the flame as it dances upon your skin.”

  He caressed her skin. His fingers and palm landed on her jaw. He clenched it tight, looked down into her eyes, and licked his lips. “You are so perfect. The others were nothing compared to you. You’re the one. I just know it.”

  He leaned closer, and she tried turning her face away from him, but his grip tightened so hard that she gasped from the pain, the ache in her jaw as his fingers dug in deep. He kissed her. He covered her mouth, plunged his tongue in deeply, and then pulled back and released her jaw as she spit his taste from her mouth. He smacked her. It was swift, hard, and right on point. Her teeth ached, and she cried. But then his hand was on her throat, squeezing, making her see that he had complete power over her like this. She was tied up to the bedposts. She felt the mattress beneath her body. He was going to hurt her, possibly rape her, and there was nothing she could do. She was helpless, and she cried, sobbed until he scraped his nails along her throat and stared down at her skin.

  “You see why it’s so dark in here? You’re going to see when I raise the lights slightly that fire has no shadow. Its light glows from the power within me and the strength I have to defeat all in my path trying to stop me from achieving my goals. I’ve chosen you to join me.”

  His nail scraped along her throat to her cleavage. He applied pressure between her breasts and let his finger dip into one cup and then dip into the other. He leaned down, and the candle he held in his hand burned bright, giving off an evil, morbid glow to her surroundings, which would, most likely, become her grave.

  She inhaled deeply and felt her stomach concave as he kissed her skin.

  “No. I don’t want to join you in your darkness. Pick someone else. Leave me alone,” she screamed at him.

  He slammed his forearm down along her throat, making her gasp and lose her breath. He got up off the bed and flicked on a light, which only slightly illuminated the room. She could see they were in a large basement and that there was a doorway. There didn’t seem to be any windows. If there were, then they were covered or hidden. She pulled on her restraints and looked down to see the welts along her skin of her thighs and on her hips and belly. She could see bruising and redness on her ribs. There must be some broken ones. She could hardly take a full breath.

  Her head felt fuzzy but not as bad as when she’d first awoken. Could whatever he had given her be wearing off?

  She stared at him, the monster that inflicted the pain, as he glided his hand over her skin, right above it, barely touching it. Yet her body reacted. It convulsed and shook with fear of what was to come.

  “The perfect canvas for my work.” He started breathing a little more rapidly, and it freaked her out. The man was insane. He was a total nut case, and she was going to die here.

  He pressed his palm over her skin on her breasts and her belly.

  “Perfect, clean, soft, and ready for my touch. No blemishes or scars, no freckles or markings, a pure, clean canvas for me to mark you as my own. Brighid, we’re going to be a team. I’m not going to move too fast, no matter how much my need pushes me to that edge. I’m going to take my time, angel.” He squeezed her hip and then stared at the flame of the candle and smiled like a screwball.

  He reached back for the candle that continued to burn. He moved it over her body and used his other hand to part her skin.

  “You need training to prepare you. That’s where I went wrong before. The others needed time to adjust to the pain, but I was desperate to achieve my wants and desires. With you, I’ll go slow, Brighid. I promise.”

  He spread her skin on her belly then tipped the candle, making the hot wax land on her belly.

  “No. No.” She cried out, but he continued to drip the burning-hot wax over her skin.

  “Get away from me. I hate you. I hate you, and I won’t be yours, ever.” She cried out in anger and protest as she pulled on her restraints, causing her wrists and her ankles to burn as the rope cut through her skin. The ache brought the focus off of the hot wax as he continued to move it around her, even over her breasts.

  She pooled saliva in her mouth and then spit it at him, stopping him.

  “You’re not like the others.” He shook his head and stood up.

  Oh God he’s talking about the women he killed.

  He gave a soft smile, and then it turned to an angry one. “They weren’t like you. They were nothing like you. It just took me this long to figure out exactly what I needed, wanted, to fill that gap, that emptiness I’ve had since I was a child.” He reached out and ran a finger along her jaw, which ached and was surely bruised.

  “I want to show you something. Some special reminders of what I went through to get here to you. How I nearly faltered and made some mistakes. I’m sorry, Brighid, but I thought they were perfect, too. But they weren’t. Don’t be angry or jealous. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.” He brought over several pictures of different women. Young, pretty women with red hair. He started naming them and talking about who they were and what he had done to them.

  She saw the images. The ones when they were perfect, pretty, smiling, and happy. Then he showed the ones where they were bruised. They looked scared but had posed on their knees, hands on their thighs and stared at the camera smiling softly probably because he’d threatened them. He kept showing her more and more, and with each passing photo, the bruises, the fear, the tears, and pain, then blood and burns, attacked her eyes, her mind, and her body. He was going to do the same thing to her. He was going to burn her.

  Brighid began to cry. She couldn’t help it. She felt so badly for those women. To know they’d suffered such horrible deaths and that she was going to be suffering, too, made her cry harder.

  “Shut up. Shut up!” he yelled at her and threw the pictures across the floor. He started tossing things and breaking things in a fit of rage. Then he turned on her and straddled her body. He shook her shoulders and spittle hit her lips and her eyes as she gasped and held her breath, waiting for him to kill her right now this second.

  “I am darkness. I am evil, and the fire I have burning within me will be shared with you, and we
will be one.”

  “Oh God no. No, I will not share your evil.” She screamed at him, feeling a fight in her and a determination to not cower and lie there in defeat. She would die fighting his attack on her body and what he believed was his ability to take her soul. She was not a religious person, but damn, did she turn to God right now in this moment and beg for the strength to get through this, to fight him in a way that altered this madman’s plan to kill her slowly and with fire.

  They had to be looking for her. Her men, Tobin, the investigators. It had to be late. Hours must have passed.

  “God, help me. Help me, God.” She cried out as she pushed upward, trying to get him off of her and show she would fight him till the end.

  “Don’t bring God into this. He can’t help you. He has no power like I do.”

  He smacked her face, and she screamed for him to stop.

  She could tell that he had lost his mind. At any moment he was going to pop and lose it. She knew it.

  He eased his body down over hers and began to lick her skin. She shuddered with disgust and hatred for this monster and his sick, delusional mind. Her whole body tightened and convulsed in disgust and horror. She kept screaming and cursing at him until her voice cracked and burned. It felt like sand paper, and she could hardly breathe.

  “This body will be mine. I will fill it with darkness and then light it up with the power of the fire within me.”

  She shook her head. “Like God, I am light. There is no darkness within me, only light, a good, pure, sacred light. You can’t ever have me. You won’t ever own me,” she threatened, not even knowing where the words came from but only feeling the determination to not let him defeat her and break her mind and soul.

  He roared as he rose up and slammed his hand down onto her chest. He began to swing at her, striking her in the mouth, the chin and neck, making her cry for mercy. Then he was up and off of her, pacing and running his fingers through his hair. She’d frazzled him, but it had cost her. She was losing her focus again. She begged to remain alert and awake, yet her body yearned for darkness and rest. She was losing this battle. Why wasn’t anyone looking for her?

  * * * *

  “There has to be something, some place, a safe house, a rental somewhere where this guy is staying,” Investigator Voigt said. “You’re already going to jail for insurance fraud, personal damages to all your victims. If anything happens to Miss Murphy, you’ll be a lifer in jail, and that’s if her boyfriends don’t kill you both first. So start thinking of locations. It’s getting dark. He took her over seven hours ago. We want answers. We have all the evidence we need on the computer system, in your hidden files, and that private laptop for real business numbers. Where did this Stark guy take Brighid?”

  “I don’t know. I swear to you I have no idea. There is no safe house. We didn’t even know his name until recently. He’s out of control. No one was supposed to get hurt,” Lenny yelled back at him.

  Trent shoved Lenny back into his chair.

  “Let’s look over credit card statements and bills. Maybe there was a charge there for something, his monthly bills and expenses?” Investigator Gregory Voight said as Jeffrey started scrolling through the records and everything they had on Lenny and Ray.

  Buddy Landers was listening to all of this, and his concern for Brighid grew stronger. His phone started ringing around four thirty. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was his cousin calling.

  “Hey, Ronie, what’s up?” he asked as he looked away from Lenny and Ray. He wanted to strangle these guys but was relieved Tobin and his brothers weren’t here right now or blood would be shed.

  “What did you say? Where? Oh shit, thank that son of yours and be sure to stay clear of the house.” Buddy closed up his cell phone.

  “I think we just got super fucking lucky. That was Ronie, my cousin, seems his boy was driving into school with his girlfriend this morning and a black van cut him off and made him swerve. He turned around to see where the guy lived and was going to confront him when his girlfriend stopped him. Turned out the guy lives in a rental on the same block. Billy saw the driver put the van in the garage. I’ve got the address. The kid says it was a black van with the word delivery on it in white. He heard about the APB that was out on the van as he got out of football practice.”

  “God, I hope this is where this asshole is and that Brighid is okay. Let’s head there now. Call Tobin and let him and his brothers know. They’re on that side of town now and can move in slowly. We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Trent Landers said, and Buddy made the call.

  * * * *

  They were standing outside of the pickup truck. Pat was running his fingers through his hair, feeling like a madman to be out of control like this. For every minute that passed, this psycho serial arsonist- murderer could be inflicting pain on their woman.

  “I can’t take this. I’m losing my fucking patience. I can’t focus. It’s been seven fucking hours. Seven,” Pat exclaimed.

  “I just can’t believe this is real. I can’t,” Reece said and then slammed his hand down on the front hood of the truck.

  “I cannot believe that no one saw this black van,” Tobin said. “We even have the fucking picture posted on all the main highway information signs throughout town and the emergency broadcast system. By now the majority of citizens in this town should have seen the pictures.”

  “Maybe he took her out of town immediately? If that’s the case, they could be anywhere,” Rusty said.

  “But someone would have seen them. There’s highway and, yes, some remote areas, but it’s a distinctive van,” Pat said.

  “A stolen van from what the investigators gathered. The owner was definitely not connected to this operation,” Tobin said.

  “Well, you basically shook him until he pissed his pants, so, yes, he’s wasn’t involved,” Reece said, and Pat chuckled.

  “Poor guy did nearly piss his pants,” Rusty said, and they all got quiet.

  Then Tobin’s phone rang. They all watched as he answered it.

  “What? Holy shit. Okay. Do you seriously want us to wait?”

  “What is it? What’s going on?” Reece asked.

  Tobin disconnected the call. “Get in. We’ve got a location. Everyone will be there in ten minutes tops.”

  They got into the truck, and Tobin explained about Buddy and Trent’s cousin, some young kid who had called in about seeing the van this morning.

  “Why did he wait so long to tell anyone?” Rusty asked.

  “The kid was at school then at football practice. Buddy said he heard about the van and the description over the radio, and he called his dad.” Tobin gunned it down the highway to the location. Before he made it around the corner, he slowed the truck down and parked it a few houses away.

  “What a fucking break. Thank God that kid wasn’t some airhead and actually paid attention to what’s going on around him,” Reece added.

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Pat asked as they all stared at the house. Pat could hear everyone’s low breathing as they just stared at it.

  “It’s getting fucking dark. We should move before we lose the last bits of light.”

  “But what if he hears us come in and then hurts her, kills her?” Rusty asked.

  “We should check that garage first. Make sure it’s the right place,” Reece said.

  “Let’s get out. Reece, Rusty, I want the two of you to come in behind us. Pat and I are law enforcement,” Tobin said to his brothers as they all got out of the truck.

  “We have our guns, too. We’re trained and legally carrying,” Reece stated firmly.

  Tobin licked his lips and then looked to the right at the other houses.

  “Okay, as quiet as possible, let’s move in. Reece, Pat, take the back entrance. Rusty and I have the front. We do a sweep of the house and listen for any signs of the location where he’s keeping her,” Tobin said to them as they checked their weapons.

  “In the other cases, he kept them in a dark
basement. That’s what I read in those reports,” Pat said to Tobin. Reece swallowed hard, and Rusty clenched his teeth.

  “We do a quick sweep of the first floor and listen. If they are in the basement, we go slowly as to not alert him to our presence. If need be, we charge the basement stairs and get down there as quickly as possible. Got it?” Tobin asked, and they nodded.

  “Let’s do this. Let’s get our woman back,” Pat said, and they agreed as they slowly, expertly, like trained men, infiltrated the house.

  * * * *

  Brighid felt the hands digging into her thighs and her hips. She started to moan and grunt in pain.

  “Wake up. It’s time for more training,” he whispered against her ear and licked the lobe.

  She turned her head away from him. “No,” she mumbled, her lips so swollen she couldn’t talk. Her eyes wouldn’t open completely because they were swollen, too.

  She lay motionless, and it obviously pissed him off.

  “Wake up. Wake the fuck up now.” He shoved at her body, and she lay still.

  She heard the click of a knife. She saw him standing over her, looking wild and rabid.

  “I’ll cut you up. I’ll hurt you worse if you don’t cooperate.”

  “Screw you, asshole.”

  She spat at him, and he slashed her skin with the knife right over her rib cage. He came down again and slashed the other side deeper. She screamed at the top of her lungs and then heard a door slam open. She looked up toward the lighted doorway. Like shadows of light in a room of pure evil and darkness, figures appeared. Stark stood up and knocked over his table of items and torturing tools as those shadows descended the stairs. A fire started in the corner when he yelled and threw something at it. Flames emerged, shining the whole room, but he charged with the knife toward the shadows as she screamed.

  She heard the multiple gunshots then a large thump. There was yelling and then voices she recognized.