The Complete Contract Series: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, & Part Four

by Steele, Suzanne

  We make our way up to the stoop to talk to a group of men seated there.

  “Wha’s up, five-o?”

  “The lady who lives upstairs, have any of you guys seen her?”

  “Don’t live there no more,” one of the men casually answers. Before I have time to respond with another question, one of the others chimes in, “Yeah, she gotta sugah daddy. Must be nice to have the equipment to live the high life. Born with the right thang between yo legs, you can have it all.” He eyes Rene accusingly, insinuating she falls under the same category. The last thing on my mind is protecting her. If anything, this guy may need protection from her if he keeps running his mouth.

  “Have you seen said sugar daddy?” I ask.

  “Nope, just saw a black Cadillac pull up and whisk her away like she was royalty or sump’n. After that, rent man went up there and took what he could sell and the neighborhood got the rest that was thrown out back at the dumpster. One thang fo sure, she ain’t comin’ back.”

  The group laughs as another sarcastically adds his two cents, “I can’t imagine anyone wantin’ to leave all this.” He waves his arm for emphasis, referring to the neighborhood.

  Though no one is listening, we say thank you and make our way back down to the sidewalk to start heading towards the car. Rene waits until we get in before she speaks.

  “As badly as I hate to admit it, you might be on to something. It’s too coincidental that she got rescued the same night that man got shot.”

  “Well, let me play the devil’s advocate for a minute. If she had a boyfriend or a family member who heard about the murder, they could have decided to move her out of the neighborhood.”

  “Why not step forward before now? It doesn’t take a murder to realize this isn’t the best neighborhood for a single mother.”

  “There are plenty of single mothers here who do a great job of raising their kids.”

  “Their parenting abilities are not in question; the quality of the neighborhood is. If I had a sister living here, I would be moving her in with me and I wouldn’t wait until there was a murder to do it.”

  I chuckle when it hits me that we are now arguing opposite views. We have both changed our points of argument from what we initially believed. It’s important to keep personal opinions out of our work. We have to be able to argue both sides of any case. Much like a debate team in college will have to argue both sides of an issue, we have to be able to do the same.

  One thing remains true in all of this and that is that there is a serial killer on the loose and we’re no closer to catching him. Somewhere out there, there is a man or a woman who has taken it upon themselves to exact judgment. In my world, that can’t happen because it isn’t their place to do so… that’s my job.

  We’ve got to find this guy. The nagging in my gut is relentless. It’s like the more I find out, the less I know and the less I know, the more I need to find out. It is just the nature of the beast. There are so many things that don’t make sense about this case. The victim was found with drugs on him, all packaged and ready for sale, but nothing about him indicates that he was involved in the drug culture. I don’t believe for one second that this was a drug related kill which means I have to entertain the thought that he belongs to my serial killer, well, one of them. Black Rose is still out there as well and now we have Melanie’s disappearance that coincidentally happens right before this last murder. I don’t believe in coincidence so now I’m wondering if my serial killer has evolved and started to kidnap his victims as well. Perhaps Rene and I should check in with the local PD about that other missing woman, Lisa something or other. Two missing women already and the bodies are piling up. God, what a shit storm but I will prevail. I was born to do the work I do and I can’t let this case go. Not only is it not in me to do so, I simply don’t want to…

  Black Rose

  I’m sitting at my desk, watching her sleep on the monitor. Her breathing is the steady, even respiration of a soul at peace. No longer will she pace in the early hours of the morning the way she did when she lived in a neighborhood that posed threats to her and Tommy.

  No longer will she sit at a kitchen table and wring her hands as she eyes the bills she is unable to pay. No longer will she be subjected to men grabbing her ass as she makes her way through the narrow path beneath the booths in a restaurant—a shitty restaurant she is forced to work in just to try and make financial ends meet.

  Even though back then I wasn’t able to have her on surveillance as extensively as I presently do, I still watched. I watched and I waited. She has no idea that I witnessed her attack and the death of her attacker. I hid in the shadows and right when I was going in for the kill, Miller’s woman beat me to the punch. Very little catches me off guard but, I have to admit, that certainly did.

  Stormy is quite the little badass. Of course, I would never allow my woman to go to on killing sprees with me but I’m not surprised that Miller does. I’ll admit I don’t like him, but I damn sure respect him. As much as we don’t care for one another, either of us could call the other and they would be there. It is just the way of the blood brotherhood. You don’t fight a war together and not bond. Any of us would not only kill for the other, but die for them, because we truly are Bound by Blood.

  Miller

  She’s turned away from me in bed. She’s behaving as though she has already fallen asleep but it is a lie. She isn’t asleep, she’s pissed. She may even still be crying but I doubt it. Like I said, she is pissed.

  I don’t give a fuck about her being angry. I care about her being dead. I warned her, when she first said she wanted to work with me, that the dynamics in our relationship would drastically change. I don’t think she realized how much though.

  What she also doesn’t realize is how easy it would be for me to go soft because I care about her. Because of my feelings for her, I have to make a conscious effort to wear her ass down. I’m doing everything in my power to make her quit but damned if the girl doesn’t just rise up and take every challenge, gritting her teeth and making her mind up to succeed. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever seen. I speak into the dark because I know she is listening.

  “Tomorrow night we hit him and get that girl out of there…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Stormy

  I hate it when I feel like this—separated, cutoff. The tension hovers so thickly in the air that all I want to do is run. I guess the best word to describe it is awkward. His voice reaches me through the darkened silence and though it is barely above a whisper, I can hear the resolution in it.

  A sense of relief washes over me when he informs me we will be rescuing the woman. I realize she is nothing more than a stranger to me, but it will be hard to look myself in the mirror if this woman gets killed. Ironically enough, from the information we have gathered on her, the only person who would grieve her death… is me.

  I find it odd that I have a sense of guilt concerning her, but I feel nothing when I think of ending the life of the sociopath holding her captive. I shudder to think that a man, looked at by society’s standards as a hero, is nothing more than a monster in a suit. He has changed me and I hate him for that because he has caused me to distrust a profession I once held in high regard. I will never look at counseling the way I did before this job. A stranger has taken a part of me he held no rights to—my innocence.

  Some of my anger towards Miller melts away. He is only trying to protect me and he is doing it the only way he knows how, forcing me to see the ugly in the world. I have always known evil existed. I have always known the boogie man lurked in bad neighborhoods and dark alleyways. I have just never thought to look for him in places of light and salvation.

  Miller knows there are monsters walking among us in suits and ties, those who hide behind good reputations and degrees. He also knows that they’re the most lethal because they blindside us with their evil when we are unaware. There is no protection from men who hide right out in the open, who walk in the light, who promis
e us salvation and freedom from the demons that plague us on a daily basis. They’re dangerous because they have that sacred thing which makes us most vulnerable—our trust…

  Black Rose

  I quietly shut the door on my Lexus and make my way into the apartment that houses my precious, little kitten and Tommy. I had no idea when I purchased my aunt’s house with this attached apartment that the woman who I have spent ages looking for would reside here. My reasoning, at the time, had been that it would be ideal housing for a caretaker. I needed someone to watch over the woman who has been more of a mother to me than my own. Melanie, however, is so much more than a caretaker.

  I purposely sneak in so I can catch her unaware. I can hear the shower running and I set my coffee on the kitchen table. I stand in the bathroom doorway, listening to her hum and watching her nude body through the frosted glass of the shower door. A feeling washes over me that I have not been privy to in a long time—peace. People hum when they are happy; I want her to be happy.

  I quietly open the medicine cabinet and look through its contents. I’m pleased to see birth control pills. I have already taken care of making an appointment for a doctor to come by and test us both for any STDs. I have no intentions of sleeping with any other women now that I finally have my precious pupil.

  The lone razor I discover causes a ripple of unease to pass through me. I don’t like it. An unwrapped, lone razor can only mean one thing. She has no rights to her life now because she belongs to me—mind, body, and soul.

  I cut my eyes at her when she opens the shower door. The fear she exudes when she sees I have entered, without her being aware of my presence, excites me. She hurriedly reaches for a towel and I gently remove it from her hands.

  “This displeases me.” The razor is now in my hand, being held up as evidence against her. When she begins to speak, I interrupt her.

  “Do. Not. Lie. To. Me.”

  She hangs her head in shame and my cock hardens. The mixture of fear and embarrassment she is displaying is turning me on.

  I stalk towards her and she lifts her head. I twist her hair gently in my fist and she jumps when I place the sharp instrument at her jugular vein that is now frantically jumping.

  “You have no rights to your body. Do you understand that? Have I made myself clear to you about my expectations? It’s not wise for you to squirm right now, kitten.”

  “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “You’re making my cock hard. How do you plan on rectifying that issue?”

  I move the razor from her throat and she immediately drops to her knees and removes my hardened stalk from the confines of my pants. My eyes stare down on her accusingly as I pull her mouth over me, using a handful of hair to guide it where I want it to go.

  “You need training. You’re so innocent when it comes to my sexual needs. Look up at me and listen.” I pull out of her mouth and take her hand, pulling her up and telling her to sit on the bathroom counter. She tries to resist as I bend her knees, pulling her legs up to place her feet on the counter by her hips.

  “Don’t ever be embarrassed about me viewing my property. You belong to me now and if you ever pleasure or hurt yourself without my permission, you will be severely disciplined.” Her eyes are downcast as she nods her head yes.

  I lean in and growl in her ear, “Finger fuck yourself. Pleasure yourself for me the way you do when no one is watching and look at me while you’re doing it.”

  Her face is reddened with shame and it excites me. I take her hand and place it between her legs. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

  I stroke my cock while she timidly touches herself as I have asked her to do. “Very soon I’m going to fuck that sweet, little pussy of mine but today, I mark you.”

  I pinch down on a nipple with my opposite hand when she looks away from me and she connects her gaze with mine immediately, without me saying a word. She is learning.

  I begin smearing the water droplets, remnants left on her body from the shower, over her breast. “Beg me to let you come.” Her eyes hold such earnestness as she begs me to allow her release. “Do it!” I bark out, as semen shoots from my cock all over her abdomen. She is pleading with me through her eyes as she watches me spread my seed all over her body. She cries out in a feral tone I have never heard her use before. I know instinctively she has never experienced this kind of pleasure.

  “You belong to me, everything you have and are, is mine, and that includes your son.”

  My eyes challenge her as she tries to process what I am saying. “Get back in the shower and rinse off while I go and wake up Tommy.”

  “He needs to be changed…”

  I cut her off before she can say anything else.

  “I know how to take care of what is mine! Now do as I asked you to do.”

  I clean up and make my way out of the bathroom and towards Tommy’s room. I know she will have a hard time processing my training of her but over time she will get it.

  I throw the razor in the garbage as I pass through the kitchen to Tommy’s room. I’ve disabled her from even the thought of taking her own life. If there will be any death, it will be by my hand. After all, her life belongs to me now…

  Miller

  Stormy and I spend the next day avoiding one another, doing anything to stay busy and not think about the job we are going on tonight. Over-processing a job only causes unnecessary adrenaline bursts which can escalate into anxiety if not held in check.

  I wait until we have pulled up close to the house we will be ambushing before I try to talk to her. I cut the car off and look in her direction.

  “Anything that has happened before this moment is irrelevant. Cut the cord on any thought of it and let it go. She is nodding her head in complete agreement which assures me she is in work mode.

  We exit the car and join the others. We are all here: Trent, Diego, Stormy, and me. We waste no time pulling ski masks down over our faces and heading up to the house. I point towards the back and Trent and Diego nod and head that direction as Stormy picks the lock, accessing entrance to the front door for the two of us.

  Every facet of executing this hit was planned and laid out in exacting detail long before now. Each person knows their job and we operate as a well-oiled machine. Much of what we learned in the military is utilized on the jobs we do now in the civilian world.

  Stormy turns in my direction and nods when she hears the click of the lock signifying we can now enter. She leads the way through the house with her gun drawn and out in front of her, much like what you would see in a TV cop show. She stays vigilant, gun at the ready, and treating every corner as if there is danger lurking behind it.

  It becomes evident to us that the predator we seek is in the basement when we hear voices as we reach the top of the steps. We quietly make our way down the stairs and remain undetected until a creak in the one of the steps gives us away. I’m relieved that even though I initially let Stormy lead us in because she knew the layout of the house, I moved in front of her when we started our descent into the basement.

  The man I know as Dr. Winslow swiftly turns upon hearing the creak that gave us away. What he didn’t count on was Trent and Diego smashing that window and coming through it all SWAT team style. He jumps in terror as they crash through and make their way in.

  “Get your fucking hands up.”

  Trent immediately makes his way over and begins frisking him. Upon finishing, he leans in and, with a terrifying, animalistic growl, he informs the doctor that he will be signing off on his psych evaluation.

  “Mother fucker, you have avoided me for the last time.”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  I shake my head in frustration. “This is about you kidnapping a woman and using her like she is some kind of experiment. For that…” I hesitate as I press my gun to his head. “I’m going to put a bullet in that genius brain of yours.”

  The woman, who no one has acknowledged in the cage up until now, begins to scream, beggin
g anyone who will listen to please have mercy on her captor.

  “Please don’t kill him, he is all I have.”

  “He kidnapped you and held you in a basement against your will.”

  “All I know is that he wants me,” she sobs uncontrollably.

  Trent eyes me, shaking his head, “Fucking Stockholm Syndrome.”

  The doctor sees it as an opportunity to bargain for his life and begins trying to convince me to let him live.

  “She has nobody but me.”

  I tilt my head and skeptically eye him. “So you are telling me you want to keep her?” I give him no time to answer and I continue talking. “If you want to keep her then you take with you. You know, back to that big, fine mansion you have. You take her shopping, you feed her, and, above all, you let her make the choice of whether she wants to be with your crazy ass or not.”

  I’m watching him frantically shake his head but I’m not finished yet. By now, Trent is standing by me, glaring at him. “This man,” I say pointing to Trent, will be keeping an eye on you. We both know you are scared to death of him and rightfully so. He will be coming to your house and checking up on you. Now, I could care less about what kind of kink the two of you have going on but she had better be treated like royalty in her day to day life.”

  I snatch the papers from Trent’s hand, “and sign off on these fucking papers of his.”

  I watch the little weasel put his John Hancock on them and then hand them back to Trent. “I want her out of here tonight. She had better be bathed, fed, and placed in real bed tonight or I’m coming to your house, your real home, and I’m going to finish what I started.”