Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella)

by Nina D'Angelo

  “You never did answer my question,” she reminded him gently, stepping closer to him. She leaned up and brushed her mouth against his, whispering, “I want to know why you choose me and how? Tell me everything.” Feeling his eyes fixated on her mouth, she licked her lips slowly.

  Rafe tore his eyes off her mouth, his eyes fixating on the knife again. “Why?” he asked flatly.

  Stephanie inwardly shuddered when his flat eyes bored into hers. He has no soul, she thought. He would stop at nothing to claim her. Her lips curved into a cold smile. Good, because nothing would stop her from killing him. Tonight, it ended for both of them.

  Forcing herself to reach over and stroke his cheek, she ignored the nausea she felt each time she touched him, reminding herself again this was a means to an end. Leaning over, she traced the outline of his lips with her tongue, whispering, “Please.”

  Rafe laughed coldly, moving the knife between them. He flicked the knife against the buttons of her shirt. Slicing through each button, he focused on her body as the shirt fell open to reveal her black bra. Stephanie held her breath, refusing to let him see how scared she was. It was all about control. If she remained calm, and focused on the endgame, she would have the upper hand.

  Keeping her face blank, she refused to look down at what he was doing, even as she felt the knife handle brush against her breast. She kept her eyes pinned on his face, anger coursing through her at the almost orgasmic expression on his face. He was enjoying this. He enjoyed dominating her. He thought he was in control. Her cold smile widened.

  He was dead wrong.

  She stepped closer to him, ignoring the knife between them, as she pressed her breasts against his chest. “Tell me,” she whispered again.

  Rafe reached between them, lifting the knife to stroke the blunt side of the blade across her cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, reverence shining in his eyes.

  He closed his eyes briefly, opening them again. Reaching for his glass of wine, he drank it slowly, savoring the taste. Stephanie reached for the wine bottle, pouring more wine into his glass.

  He allowed her, his eyes dropping to her chest. Putting the knife on the counter, he reached out and hooked his finger into the gap between her bra cups, bringing her closer to him. “The things I want to do to you,” he growled, ravaging her mouth with his.

  Stephanie strained against him, moaning impatiently when her phone rang again. Rafe tore his mouth from her bruised lips, allowing her to move away to pick up her phone. He took another sip of wine, as she turned her phone around to reveal who was calling her. “Gena Evans,” he growled, his face contorting with hatred.

  ***

  Gena gripped the steering wheel, cursing softly when Stephanie’s phone went to voicemail again. “Stephanie, damn it, answer your phone. Let me know you’re okay,” she said, adding softly, “If you get this, don’t let Rafe in. I’m on my way.”

  Tossing her phone onto the dashboard, she focused her eyes on the road, struggling to remain calm. Hearing her phone ring, she answered it without looking at the caller ID. “Stephanie?”

  Hearing Jase’s voice, she fought down the bitter disappointment she felt. Her insides churning, she listened to Jase confirm Rafe was their serial killer and that Cynthia had identified him

  Interrupting him, she said “Look Jase, I’m on my way over to your place now. Jake has gone over to Jesse’s to ensure they’re safe.”

  ***

  Jase stood in the doorway of his apartment, talking to Gena. “Gena, Stephanie’s not here. She’s gone.”

  He glanced around his living room, noticing Stephanie’s files were stacked neatly on the coffee table. He moved his gaze around the rest of the room, stopping when he saw her laptop open on the bench. He strode towards it, sliding his finger across the mouse. He was surprised to see her laptop left unlocked and his face drained at what he read. “Gena, she knows,” he choked out. “She knows it’s Rafe. I’m looking at her notes right now.”

  Scanning Stephanie’s notes, he swore softly. “I know where she is, Gena. She’s at Dom’s.” Hearing Gena curse, he almost smiled. “I’ll meet you there.” Pausing again, he said softly, “Be careful. This guy’s dangerous.”

  ***

  Gena disconnected the phone, closing her eyes in anguish. She should have known. It always ended with Dom. Tonight was no different. Turning her car around, she headed towards Dominic’s house, her thoughts racing. She didn’t know what she would find there or even what would happen. What she did know was one way or another, this ended tonight.

  ***

  Stephanie placed the phone back on the bench, lifting her glass to Rafe’s and toasting him. “She knows.”

  “Of course she does. Gena Evans knows everything,” Rafe growled, anger coursing through him. “She always has. Even at university, she thought she was better than everyone. She thought she was better than me.” Angrily he looked at her, his eyes darkening with fury. “She thought she was better than you. I saw the way she treated you. I hated her for it. I hated the fact she tried to bring you down to her level. She knew she was never worthy of you, so she tried to drag you down.” Rafe spat.

  Stephanie watched Rafe pace the kitchen, ranting at Gena, the wineglass in his hand. She smiled coldly. This was perfect. She wanted him angry. She wanted the adrenaline flooding through him. Walking towards him, she touched his arm, feeling him tense underneath her hand. “We will deal with her together.” Moving her hand up his arm, she stroked his bicep soothingly, “Let me handle her.”

  He stopped in his pacing, staring down at her, his expression closed. “How exactly do you plan to do that?” He bit out.

  Sliding her hand further up his arm to his shoulder, she wrapped her arm around his neck and reached down to bring his left hand up to her breast. Feeling his breath quicken with excitement, she whispered in his ear, “I’m going to kill her for you.”

  Rafe drew back from her, studying her glittering eyes. He looked into her eyes, pleased with what he saw there. “How?” he whispered.

  “I thought I’d shoot her,” Stephanie said, giving him a wide smile. “It’ll hurt like hell and the death can be painfully slow.” Stepping away from him, she took a gulp of her wine, and leaned against the kitchen bench. “I want her to see us. While she’s lying there dying, I want her to see us...” She paused, struggling to say the words. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, her lips curving into a seductive smile. “...to see us making love.”

  Rafe cocked his head to one side, a slow smile of pleasure sliding across his face. Moving towards her, he put his wine glass on the kitchen bench, then took her glass and placed it on the bench next to his. Putting both of his hands on each side of the bench, he pressed his length against hers, his mouth inches from hers. “You asked me why I chose you, Stephanie. This is the reason why.”

  “Tell me,” she breathed softly. “While we wait for Gena, tell me everything.”

  “You truly are perfection,” he whispered, excitement coursing through his veins at the prospect of Gena Evan’s death. He felt love for her flooding through his body. Reaching out to touch her cheek again, he closed his eyes at the feel of her silky skin against his. He couldn’t wait to apply a whip to her. He wanted to hear her moans of pain, her body twisting and writhing under his as he took her again and again. Forcing himself to remain patient, he rubbed his body against hers, hearing her breath catch in her throat. He opened his eyes, almost groaning at the sight of her head flung back, her lips slightly open with excitement. Soon enough she would be his. He would possess her completely. He couldn’t wait.

  Stepping back from her, he took his wine glass off the bench, draining it completely. He watched Stephanie pick hers up, taking a delicate sip. His eyes darkened when her tongue darted out to lick up the stray drop of wine clinging to her bottom lip. She picked the bottle up again, refilling his wine glass and sliding her hand over his chest. “Now will you tell me?”

  He nodded, leaning against the b
ench. “Leigh noticed you first,” he began, his expression distant. “He thought you were the perfect prize for our games.”

  “Your games?” she asked throatily, her heart pounding against her chest. Deep down she needed to know why she’d been chosen, but another part of her revolted against discovering why she was perfect in his twisted reality.

  “Leigh and I liked to play together,” Rafe said with a happy smile. It almost made him handsome, she thought.

  “We would each pick a girl we could play the game with. Each girl we picked was unique in her own way. We didn’t always play together. Sometimes we would compete to see how many beauties we could conquer. Then we would compare and rate our prizes,” Rafe reminisced. So caught up in his memories, he didn’t notice the look of disgust slide across Stephanie’s face, before she carefully masked it. Nor did he see her fill up his wine glass again.

  “Then you came along and you were so perfect. Our game changed. We both wanted to claim you, but neither of us wanted to share you with the other.” Pausing, Rafe took another gulp of his wine, smiling at her. “We knew you were different, special. We just didn’t know how special you were. Not until Leigh hacked into the university database.”

  “You read my transcripts?” Stephanie whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.

  Rafe nodded excitedly. “Yes. We read about your parents and knew you were as damaged as we were. I knew then you were perfect for me.”

  Reaching her, he hungrily ran his hands over her body, roaming restlessly as he pressed against her again. She could feel how excited he was, as he rubbed up against her. “You were damaged too. It was then I knew I had to have you.”

  “So you killed Katrina to get to me?” she said softly.

  Rafe scowled. “No.” He growled, shaking his head emphatically. “Katrina was to get Leigh out of the way. He wanted to claim you immediately. But we weren’t ready – I wasn’t ready.” Breaking off, his cold smile was filled with satisfaction. “Katrina was an unexpected pleasure.”

  Looking down at her, his smile faded and his eyes glittered with anger. “You attacked me that night.”

  Stephanie lifted shaking fingers to cup his jaw. “You scared me,” she whispered. “I thought you were going to kill me and I was a silly 18-year-old girl who didn’t know better.”

  Against his mouth, she murmured, “I stabbed you because I didn’t know how to appreciate you. Now I do. Forgive me?”

  When Rafe nodded, she tore her mouth from his, resisting the urge to wipe her lips with her sleeve. “You killed Angel to bring me back to Los Angeles, but why the others?”

  Rafe smiled affectionately at her, reaching out to slide his fingers down her throat and moving them to circle around the back of her neck. He jerked her to him, his eyes dropping to her mouth. “I killed them because I wanted to.”

  “Cynthia Mallory, you left her alive. Why?” Stephanie asked, feeing the steely pressure of his fingers digging in her nape. She knew if she made a wrong move, he could easily snap her neck.

  “Because I could,” Rafe growled, smiling at her scowl. “Would you have preferred I killed her?”

  “That’s not my decision to make. It’s yours,” Stephanie said softly, giving him a careless shrug. “I wouldn’t have cared either way. I didn’t know her. I was just wondering why, that’s all.”

  “She admired my work,” He blurted, his eyes narrowing when Stephanie’s tongue darted out to touch the bottom of her lip.

  “She admired your work?” Stephanie echoed softly, her lips curving into a smile when she realized Rafe’s focus was on her mouth.

  “She treated my art with respect, so I let her go,” he said dismissively, ending the conversation by savagely taking her mouth with his own.

  Lifting his mouth from hers, he turned his head towards the front door. Hearing a car door slam, he grinned widely. “Our guest has arrived. It’s time to get this party started.”

  ***

  Gena stepped out her car, immediately pulling her Beretta out of its holster. Scanning the perimeter, she could feel the adrenaline flooding through her. Turning the front door handle, she wasn’t surprised to find it unlocked.

  “Detective Evans, please come in. Stephanie and I have been waiting for you,” Rafe called from the kitchen. Freezing, she silently cursed. He was waiting for her, she realized. Waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she had to be prepared for anything. Even if it meant preparing for Stephanie’s death, or her own.

  Gena straightened her back, walking into the kitchen. What she saw chilled her to the bone. Rafe held Stephanie tightly, her back pressed against his chest, his arm tightly around her waist. In his other hand, he held a kitchen knife tightly against Stephanie’s throat.

  She took in Stephanie’s disheveled appearance – from her bruised lips to her ripped shirt, exposing her bra. “Stephanie,” she breathed, taking a step forward. Rafe jerked Stephanie back, the blade pressing tighter against Stephanie’s neck.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you Detective Evans,” Rafe said evenly, “Or I may have to slit Stephanie’s pretty throat.”

  Gena aimed her gun at Rafe, keeping her eyes pinned on him. “It’s over Rafe, let her go.”

  “Oh no Detective Evans, it’s only just begun,” Rafe gloated, his arm tightening around Stephanie’s waist. “You and I both know you won’t shoot me. Not while I have this blade against Stephanie’s beautiful neck.”

  His grin feral, he growled, “Drop the gun, or I slit her throat.”

  Gena halted, casting a glance at Stephanie. Stephanie’s eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t identify. “Gena, please,” she whispered.

  Gena watched Rafe press the blade even tighter against Stephanie’s throat, blanching when a trickle of blood slid down her throat. “Okay, I’m putting the gun down now,” she coaxed, stepping forward and placing the gun on the bench separating her from both Rafe and Stephanie.

  Stepping backwards, she lifted both her hands up. “See, I’ve put my gun down. Now let her go, Rafe.”

  Rafe laughed coldly, releasing Stephanie. Stephanie calmly walked towards the bench, taking Gena’s gun off the bench. Lifting her eyes from the gun, she mouthed silently, “Gena, I’m sorry.”

  Gena stared from Rafe’s excited expression to Stephanie’s shaken one, watching Stephanie pick up the gun and aim it at her before firing.

  Gena’s body jolted with the impact of the gun hitting her and she staggered backwards, disbelief on her face. Clutching her side with one hand, she looked down at the red blooming through her white T-Shirt. Lifting her hand, she paled at the sight of the dark red blood covering her hand. Tearing her eyes off the blood, she lifted her eyes to meet Stephanie’s grief-stricken one. “You shot me,” she whispered, her knees buckling underneath her.

  Stephanie closed her eyes, taking a ragged breath. She felt Rafe move closer to her, his breath hot against her neck. “You shot her,” he whispered, awestruck. “You actually shot her.”

  She opened her eyes in time to see Gena sink to her knees, disbelief on her face. Stephanie’s own face contorted with pain and she took a deep breath. Turning around to face Rafe, she pasted a triumphant smile on her face. “I told you I would.”

  Rafe nodded silently, glancing over at Gena. He hazily watched Stephanie step back from him, adrenaline running through him. He took a step towards her, halting when a wave of dizziness hit him.

  He watched Stephanie step back from him again, confusion sliding across his face. “Stephanie,” he began, taking another step towards her.

  Stephanie picked up her wineglass. Taking a sip, she watched confusion slide across Rafe’s face. She smiled coldly, as he staggered towards her.

  “It’s rather ironic isn’t it?” she said coldly, watching as Rafe sank to his knees on the kitchen floor, dizziness overwhelming him. “The fact I laced a very expensive bottle of wine with GHB to trap a sexual predator.”

  “You drugged me?” Rafe growled, bracing himself against the
kitchen bench in an effort to lift himself off his knees.

  “Of course,” Stephanie said simply, arching an eyebrow. “Oh wait, did you actually believe I wanted you?” she laughed harshly at his wounded expression, moving towards him, the gun still in her hand. Viciously kicking the back of his legs, she grinned in pleasure when he sank to his knees again. Lifting the gun above her head, she brought it down hard against his head, triumphantly watching him slump to the ground.

  Kneeling down beside him, she unbuckled her jeans belt and, working quickly, she tied his hands behind his back. Standing up again she eyed him with contempt, turning on her heel. She quickly moved to where a dazed Gena was sitting with her back against the kitchen wall, her eyes glazed over.

  Dropping to her knees, Stephanie jerked her shirt off her shoulders, rolling it into a ball. Taking Gena’s hand off her bloodied side, she lifted Gena’s shirt, staring at the bullet wound. Leaning Gena forward, she smiled grimly. She gently probed at the wound, hearing Gena grunt in pain. “It looks like the bullet was clean. It went right through you,” Stephanie said, leaning Gena back against the wall and pressing her ripped shirt against the wound. She clamped Gena’s hand down on it. “Press down as tightly as you can,” she murmured, smiling sympathetically at her friend.

  “You shot me,” Gena groaned, opening her unfocused eyes to glare at a smiling Stephanie.

  “You’ll get over it,” Stephanie said, rolling her eyes. Picking up the gun, she cast another glance to where Rafe was slowly trying to pick himself up from the ground, weaving unsteadily.

  Calmly aiming the gun at him, she watched take a step towards her, weaving unsteadily. “You laced the wine with GHB,” he ground out, disbelief still on his face.

  She stepped back, keeping her eye on him. “I thought it was apt to do so. After all, you did rape, torture and murder my friends, you sick son of a bitch. And you didn’t even notice the significance of the year, did you? 2003 was the year I married Dominic. The man, you killed - my husband.”