The Hunting of Malin

by Sean Thomas Fisher

  Wrapped up in his own little world, Roscoe stared into the window and pumped his dick, breath coming hard and fast.

  “Put it in me,” Lisa begged, tugging at their attention. Malin watched the bald guy mount Lisa and pin her legs behind his tattooed arms before punching in and going to work. The headboard banged against the wall with each aggressive thrust of his hips, fueling Lisa’s passionate cries. Malin tore her eyes away. Tears streamed down Holden’s cheeks. Covering his mouth, he shook his head at her like he was underwater and needed to surface for air. The headboard slammed harder and Lisa screamed like she was being murdered. Roscoe’s hand went faster, watering Malin’s need to laugh.

  Catching her attention, Holden thumbed back the way they came.

  “Harder, Colt!” Lisa cried, pulling her knees back for him. “Harder!”

  Colt leaned back and pulled Lisa closer, resting her ankles against his rounded shoulders and gyrating faster. The headboard picked up the pace and Lisa moaned like they were the only two people on earth, bare feet shaking in the air.

  Roscoe bent over and grunted like someone just punched him in the gut. Grabbing Malin’s hand, Holden towed her back into the shadows where they released their laughter into the night. It felt amazing to let it go. Like going to the bathroom after holding it for the last thirty miles. Gently closing their car doors at the same time, they wiped tears from their faces and gasped for breath. A choir of crickets played in the bushes around them and Malin couldn’t scrub the graphic images from her mind no matter how hard she tried. Branded into her memory banks for the rest of her life, part of her hated Roscoe for doing that to her.

  “Okay,” Holden panted, pulling a hand down his face. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Funny?” Malin sank down in the seat and let out a frustrated breath, ready to get the hell out of here. It was obvious she didn’t know her best friend nearly as well as she thought, which only confirmed her dragging suspicions he was capable of so much more.

  “Guy’s really got it bad for his ex, huh?” Holden closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. “While some other guy is just laying into her, too.” Exhaling, he passed the water bottle to Malin. “I don’t care what anyone says, that’s some fucked up shit right there.”

  Taking the bottle, she brushed a leaf from her hair. “Still think he isn’t the killer?”

  Turning back to the condos, he grew quiet, watching for Roscoe to emerge from the shadows. “Jerking off outside someone’s bedroom window is a long way from serial killer.”

  “Oh, come on! It’s not like he was sending her flowers with creepy cards,” she countered, wetting her whistle. “He was masturbating outside someone’s bedroom window, Holden! That’s a serious red flag.”

  “True, but we’ll need more than that to connect him to two murders.”

  Malin capped the water and returned it to the console, twisting her full finger rings and seeing the future without the help of some supernatural assistance. How could she ever talk to Roscoe again after this? How could she act like this never happened? She couldn’t. That’s how. They’d just have to stop being friends. Her eyes narrowed. She’d have to come up with a believable excuse, anything but the truth. Maybe she decided to stop drinking and become a born-again Christian. A car drove past and they ducked down in their seats. “I can never face him again. My mom was so right. He’s infected.”

  Coming back up, Holden put the keys in the ignition and scanned the building. “I say tomorrow morning we check where you found Amber Rowe out at the lake. I’d like to see it for myself. The police may have missed something, or maybe it’ll help jar your memory. Either way, it couldn’t hurt.” He exhaled, lowering his chest. “If you’re right about any of this, every second counts.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, her insides warming at the suggestion they spend the day together tomorrow.

  He took her hand in his and squeezed. “We’ll figure this out and who knows, maybe you’re right. Maybe if we help crack this case, a little press will help get my private investigation practice off the ground.”

  A slow smile brightened her eyes. “I think you’d be great at that.”

  “Not like I want to be a stupid bartender my whole life.”

  “Can we get out of here now, please?”

  His face sobered dramatically. Releasing her hand, Holden pressed up against the car door as if she were the devil himself. “Oh, my God,” he whispered, his terror-filled eyes giving her bloodstream a quick jolt of adrenaline.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, thinking he was picking the world’s worst time for a stupid joke and then quickly realizing the tall, slender shadow was standing behind her again. An odd sensation rolled through her. Pins and needles pressed into her strands of hair like piano keys, each note heavier than the one before it, leading to a climax of unbearable fathoms.

  He pointed at her face. “There is a giant spider in your hair,” he whispered.

  “What?” Malin batted at her head like a crazy person. “Where?”

  “Hey, get out of the truck and do that!”

  “Where is it?”

  “Oh shit.” Holden slid down in the seat and, voice dropping to just above a whisper. “Here he comes.”

  Malin barely saw Roscoe jogging back to his car as she whipped her ponytail about.

  Starting the truck, Holden tipped his head down and watched Roscoe speed off down the block. “Fasten your seatbelt, doll,” he said, pulling away from the curb.

  Malin yanked the hair tie out and violently shook her long black mane in all directions. “Do you see it?”

  Chapter19

  After following Roscoe back to his apartment, where he apparently called it a night, Holden dropped Malin off at her car by the coffee shop downtown. The wind blew through her hair as the Miata slipped through the brightly lit streets. Glancing at the round headlights in the rearview mirror, the touch of a smile curled the corners of her lips. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone. The headboard was still banging in her ears and she couldn’t stop imagining Holden between her legs, his tongue rubbing soft circles into her pink flesh as she tipped her head back and moaned.

  Inside her apartment, she poured two tequila shots and grabbed some craft beers from the fridge, a determined glimmer in her eyes. “My brain is so scarred; I’m going to have to commit myself before I hurt someone.”

  “You?” Holden rested his hands on his hips, examining the framed pictures hanging on the apartment walls.

  Stealing a peek at the back pockets of his jeans, Malin popped the bottle caps with a full finger ring on her middle finger – a nifty trick she learned from Roxanna back in high school.

  Turning from a picture of Malin and Roxanna standing outside The Bellagio in Las Vegas, Holden scrunched his nose up. “What’s that smell?”

  “Smell?” The garbage floated through her mind and then she remembered she’d already changed it after Luna mentioned it earlier today.

  “You don’t smell that?” Holden pulled his t-shirt to his nose. “I hope that’s not me.”

  “There’re clean towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower.” Smiling sheepishly, Malin handed him a bottle and a shot glass. “Thank you for going with me tonight.”

  His green eyes glittered with heat. “My pleasure, doll.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Me too.”

  Malin held up the tequila. “Here’s to matching scars.”

  Holden clinked the glass against hers and threw it back, grimacing with the slow burn warming his insides. Dropping onto the couch with an exhausted sigh, he kicked his sneakers up onto the coffee table and took a long pull of beer. “Well, I guess you were right about Colt. That guy really is like a horse in bed.”

  Slipping out of her shoes, she sat down next to him, purposely invading his space. His heat flushed her side as she leaned into the couch. “I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the police. It s
ounded like he was killing her.”

  “Oh, he was.”

  Malin laughed and pulled on her top, butterflies stirring when Holden’s eyes drew to her chest. “I can’t stop hearing that headboard banging against the wall.”

  “Me too!” His steamy gaze held hers, tongue slipping out and wetting his full lips. “You’d think he’d get some padding or something.”

  “Or move out to the country.”

  Holden smiled and, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. Holden held his beer out for balance, caught off guard and hesitant. Warm explosions went off inside and Malin fought him tooth and nail when he tried to pull away. Stubbornly, Holden drew apart and stared into her ocean blue eyes, taking the wind from her sails. He set his beer down on the coffee table and she knew she’d pushed too hard. Knew it was Sparky’s turn again tonight. When he took her beer bottle and set it next to his, her heart fluttered. His playful grin sent a current sizzling through Malin, rooting her to the couch.

  Leaning in close, Holden traced her lips with a finger in the dim light, a silent understanding passing between them. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  A destructive smile swept across her face. “I know.”

  Pulling her to him, he kissed her hard, indulging his greedy needs. She can taste his sweet saliva mixing with hers, and she wants more. Holden seized a breast, quietly fulfilling her desire.

  “Yes,” she begged against his lips, reaching a hand down his pants and wrapping her fingers around him.

  Inhaling suddenly, he broke their kiss for air, drawing to the mischief dancing in her eyes.

  Malin couldn’t help the smile she felt playing on her lips as his face stiffened with the shaft in her pumping hand. Colt had nothing on Holden and now it was her turn to wake the neighbors. Yanking her jeans off with both hands, he threw them across the room without looking and pushed her back into the cushions. The couch dipped between her legs and Malin pulled him closer, heart stampeding as his soft invasion tuned her body to his wants and needs.

  Chapter20

  The next morning, Holden and Malin headed to the Boxcar Diner to appease their ravenous appetites before going out to investigate the crime scene at the lake. It was cloudy and cooler and something told Malin this was a bad idea. Parking two blocks from the diner – the closest spot Holden could find on a busy Tuesday morning – they got out and started walking, exchanging coy glances and holding hands for the very first time. Her legs hurt from last night and she could tell he knew it by the gleam in his eye. But it was a good hurt. The kind she needed to feel again. The kind that made her feel alive. Kissing the back of her hand, they strolled the busy walkway. Thunder rumbled off in the distance and Malin yanked Holden into the recessed opening of a downtown record store, pulling him against her.

  “Damn, doll, I like the way you think,” he said, cradling her cheeks in his palms and leaning down for a kiss.

  Despite her need to taste him again, she pushed him away and jerked her chin down the block. “It’s Roscoe,” she whispered, peeking around the corner to see Roscoe walking toward them with one of the new waitresses from the bar. The two were in no hurry, caught up in their own little world, smiling and talking and coming closer.

  Malin and Holden pressed up against the glass door, indecision flaming in their eyes.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and hurrying her down the block.

  Malin glanced over her shoulder and the stupid wind blew hair in her face. Pulling strands from her eyes, she saw Roscoe and the pretty brunette talking and laughing like they were on a first date and that poor girl had no idea what she was getting into. Malin wanted to turn and warn her but Holden towed her around a corner and blended into a sea of people rushing off to work. Slowing, they released long breaths that lowered their shoulders.

  “Damn, that was close,” he panted, plotting out their next move. “Let’s circle around the block and go back to the diner.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, worried Roscoe could somehow hear their plan over the traffic and city noise.

  Rounding another corner, Holden grabbed Malin’s arm and jerked her to an abrupt halt. She followed his wide eyes down the busy street up ahead and it wasn’t possible. Roscoe and the waitress were strolling right toward them, even though there was no way they could’ve made it that far that fast.

  Holden took Malin’s hand and pulled her into a narrow convenience store that smelled of candy, chips and cigarettes. The dark-skinned clerk with red eyes yelled at them when they pushed through a swinging door in back and disappeared into the rear of the store. Stopping for a moment, they searched for an exit and found it hiding behind a pallet stacked with boxes of toilet paper. Holden dragged her to the metal door and pulled it open to find the other side boarded up with a thin sheet of plywood – the words Do Not Enter messily spray-painted across it.

  The bell rang above the front door and Malin glanced behind her to a circular mirror mounted up in the corner, where she saw Roscoe and the brunette enter the store. Pressing up against a wall, Malin could hear her heart pounding as Holden put his shoulder into the plywood. Roscoe drew closer in the curved mirror like he knew they were back here.

  “They’re coming!” Malin hissed through her teeth, nervously looking for somewhere to hide.

  Holden hit the plywood again, cracking it open just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Taking his hand, she followed. A rusty nail scratched her forearm as she stepped into an ancient apartment building reeking of laundry and cat piss. The store’s metal backdoor slammed shut behind them and Holden reached past the loose plywood and tried the knob.

  A dejected look tugged on his face. “Locked.”

  They turned back to the stuffy hallway and groaned. Lit by a single bulb in the middle, two doors sat at opposite ends with only peeling wallpaper in between. Taking cautious steps, they headed for the door on the right. The bare bulb began to blink, turning their progress into slow motion. The hallway stretched longer and felt like it was leaning a little to the left. Stopping in front of apartment 323, they traded uncertain looks. Holden tried the knob and shook his head.

  “Locked.”

  The door at the other end of the hall creaked open, bristling the hairs on the nape of Malin’s neck. Her heart skidded to a stop when Holly Banner stumbled out with a bloody noose dangling from her neck. Eyes as vacant as a condemned building, she limped closer with matted hair swinging back and forth across her ashen face. She reached for them, mouthing words Malin could not hear.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped, pressing up against the wall and trying to blend in with the busy wallpaper. “Open the door.”

  Holden tore his incredulous gaze from Holly and knocked like a cop before putting all of his weight into apartment 323. The lock held tight so he tried again, screaming in pain when he dislocated his shoulder. Malin wanted to tell him to get over it because Holly was getting painfully close but fear smothered her vocal chords. Shuffling and reaching, Holly hobbled closer with the end of the noose dangling between her dirty feet. Holden kicked and swore. The lightbulb sputtered, turning Holly’s sluggish limp into a jerky gait. Halfway down the hallway, blood began oozing from her shredded throat in slow moving globs, landing at her feet with sickening splats. Malin grabbed the back of Holden’s t-shirt as he kicked at the fucking door that refused to open. The light slapped against Holly’s pale skin, lips pulling back at the teeth, claws desperate for purchase. Malin held her hands out and screamed, bracing for impact with the rotting corpse while Holden spun around and shot Holly two times in the chest, driving her back a few steps. Rebounding with a startling quickness, she hissed and lunged, coiling skeletal fingers into Malin’s hair and yanking hard. Screaming, Malin opened her eyes and chased her breath in the gray morning light. It took a moment for the dream to dissolve and to realize Holden was gone from her bed.

  Chapter21

  Holden sipped his coffee and st
udied the trailhead from inside the topless Bronco, shaded by the trees hovering over them like aged sentinels. “Damn, that is some messed up dream, doll.”

  A worn-out breath flapped her dark-painted lips. “Tell me about it. I couldn’t move for like five minutes after I woke up.”

  He gave her a smile. “So, you’re saying I gave you nightmares?”

  “You gave me sore legs,” she smiled back, enjoying the way his eyes wandered to the legs pouring from her denim shorts in creamy rivers. She had a good time the night before but his abrupt vanishing act stole some of the moment and she had to work hard to hide it. She hated when guys played games like that and Holden didn’t seem the type.

  Returning his attention to the overgrown trail, he drank more coffee and surveyed the area through thin eyes.

  She grew just as quiet as he did, toying with the lid on her cup. “So why did you pull a Casper on me like that anyway?”

  He gave her a distant shrug she didn’t care for. “I’m sorry,” he replied, sipping his drink. An uneasy wave floated in on a lazy breeze, leaving Malin playing with the lid and searching for words just out of reach. Using two fingers, he turned her chin to face him. “It’s not what you think. Last night was amazing; it was. I just don’t sleep well in beds that aren’t mine and I didn’t want to wake you up. You need your rest,” he said, studying the bruised rings circling her eyes.

  “Oh.”

  “Maybe next time we go to my place.”