by Diana Layne
“I’ll get the other one naked and ready,” Joe said. “Here, take the camera and hand me the knife.”
As Mac passed the bone-handled knife to Joe, MJ recognized it as Tasha’s.
The two women exchanged looks. Anger flashed in Tasha’s eyes, confirming she had in fact been acting, pretending to be horny as MJ suspected, to keep the men’s attention off her.
“Turn the camera this way,” Joe told Mac, then said to MJ, “Don’t try anything,”
In her position on the pole, she was much more able to take him out than Tasha had been. But with the knife in Joe’s hand, now wasn’t the time. Nowhere she could go anyway.
She made herself statue still while he sliced through the back of her uniform jacket. Then she felt the knife on her shirt. “Ouch, watch that sharp pointy end, it hurts.”
“I got something sharp and pointy that’s going to feel good,” he promised in her ear.
“Short and puny you said?”
In retaliation, he let the knife jab her waist as he struggled to cut through her pants and panties at the same time.
“Bastard,” she whispered under her breath.
“You’ll be moaning before it’s all over.”
“One of us will.” And it wouldn’t be her. She planned to make sure he moaned from pain, not ecstasy.
He managed to nick her a couple of more times before he cut away the last of her clothes. A trickle of blood ran down the back of her thigh, irritating as hell. She was all too conscious of Mac taping every movement with the camera, in all her naked glory.
“That’s more like it,” Joe said. “Your tits aren’t big as hers, but still a handful.” To illustrate he cupped her left breast. Don’t even think about sucking my tits. She hid a shudder, focused on not reacting, even when he slid his hand down her body, murmuring, “nice muscles,” before he shoved two fingers inside her. Even though she was expecting it, the feel of his fingers sent shockwaves through her body. Summoning strength, she continued to remain relaxed, non-reactive.
Now wasn’t the time. Now wasn’t the time, she chanted to herself. Turn your attention to Tasha, MJ willed, so I can get these damn cuffs off.
“Hey, guys,” Tasha cut in, “Have you forgotten me?”
“You’re hot for it, aren’t you?” Mac asked, turning the camera to her. “That true, what the old guy said, that you fucked those other senators before you whacked them? You like spreading your legs for a hard dick?”
Tasha licked her lips. “Try it and see,” she murmured.
“Take this camera and give me that damn condom,” Mac said.
“Hold on. I got a better idea of what we can do with her,” Joe ever the inventive one said, taking back the camera. “This angle’s not too good for details. If we do this right, we can sell it. Let me get my gun.” He grabbed his Beretta off the bar. “Now take her out of those manacles and bring her over here.”
MJ moved around the pole to see what he was talking about. The waterboard? All the kinky things in here, and he chose that? Was it his theory to break them down so they wouldn’t fight by nearly drowning them?
Naked, Tasha managed to walk as if she were wearing a designer gown on the red carpet. The swaying of her curvy hips would no doubt tempt a monk. She definitely attracted the attention from these two guys.
MJ, anxious to get to the paperclip and get her own cuffs off, fought the urge to rush. The timing had to be right. Patience, she told herself.
“Put the cuffs back on her,” Joe said.
Tasha turned to Mac and laid her hands on his shoulders. “If you put the cuffs back on me, I can’t use my hands. And you wouldn’t believe what I can do with my hands.” She slid one hand down to his unzipped pants. He jumped when she wrapped her fingers around him.
“Ah, man,” he moaned. “Do we have to cuff her?”
“Wake up, you idiot,” Joe said. “These are trained killers. Of course you have to cuff her.”
Joe held his gun steady, taking no chances. When her cuffs were back on, he demanded, “Lie on the board.”
Tasha lay on the slanted board, Mac hooked her cuffs on a ring on the wall. Joe put down the gun and picked up the camera.
“We gonna pour water on her?” Mac asked.
“Yeah, the water on her body will look good.”
“You’re not going to mask me?”
“You’ve done this before?” Joe questioned her.
MJ couldn’t see Tasha’s face, but her voice sounded seductive when she said, “There’s not much I haven’t done, darling.”
“I don’t care about the mask. I just want to see the water on her. She’s so hot, it’ll be steaming,” Mac said.
Puhlease.
“But don’t you want the psychological factor of blindfolding me and pouring water on my face and keeping me too disoriented to fight when you fuck me?”
“Frankly, sweetheart, I don’t think you’re going to be fighting,” Mac said.
“Your wish, of course.”
MJ could hear the shrug in Tasha’s voice.
“Mac, get that bucket on the counter of the wet bar and fill it.”
MJ couldn’t see much of what was going on, stuck in the corner with furniture blocking her view, but she’d wait a few more seconds until they were fully engaged with their attention on Tasha.
MJ heard the sound of water running then abruptly stop. “Hey, is this bar stocked?”
“Don’t know,” Joe answered. Then to Tasha he said, “Spread your legs a little more, pose for me.”
“Sorry, sweetie, you cuffed me so you’re going to have to force me for everything you get.”
MJ heard the sound of a slap. “Whatever you want, bitch. You like it rough, you’ll get it.”
“Hey, don’t start without me,” Mac complained. Sounds of a cabinet, then the refrigerator opening. MJ was already feeling sick when Mac said, “Perfect. This cold bottle of wine will do the trick.”
MJ heard a cork popping, saw at the very edge of her vision Mac walking toward Tasha with a bottle of wine.
Now was the time to get to work. The lock. Slowly so her movement would stay silent and not attract attention to make them glance this way, MJ moved around the pole a few steps where she could stick out her leg and reach her shoes with her foot. She dragged the closest shoe over to her, careful not to turn it over and spill the paperclip.
Kneeling, whoa, the rough carpet was not a fun feeling on her bare ass, she dragged the shoe next to the pole. Tense with effort, she managed to grab the paperclip.
Moments away from sweet freedom.
With her limited vision, she kept her attention on what the men were saying, surmising what they were doing by the sounds. MJ straightened the paperclip, then using her right hand, stuck the straight edge of the clip into the hole on the left cuffs. It was simple enough to push the latch and the cuffs opened as easy as the tape on Angel’s diaper.
Switching hands, she unlocked the right cuff. She gently laid them on the floor, cautious not to make a sound. Weapon? Her eyes scanned. Earlier she had spotted a whip, but Indiana Jones she wasn’t. A chain, now, that was a possibility. Use it like a heavy duty whip, more effective than the leather whip would be. But every chain she saw was attached to something.
She could use the cuffs to choke one out, but she wasn’t sure she’d have enough time before the other guy would come to help, or shoot her. She hoped Tasha could help with her feet if nothing else.
Then MJ spotted it. The knife Joe used to cut away her clothes. It lay in the tangled remains of material on the couch. Stupid mistake, there, Joe.
Time to move.
Slowly.
Being naked made her feel lighter than normal, somehow freer. Strange sensation. She tiptoed forward, knelt by the couch sliding her hand under the remains of her clothes and groped for the bone handle. Finally she latched onto the knife. Before she got up, she studied the scene on around the waterboard. The site of Tasha naked with wine being drizzled over her made MJ c
ringe. She glanced away, unable to take it.
“That’s cold, you fucker.”
“Look at those nipples stand up. I’m going to have to lick off that wine. No sense in good wine going to waste.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, MJ tried to block the image. Ugh. She’d seen enough to know Mac stood by Tasha’s breasts, and Joe leaned close taping. Neither man was easily accessible. It would be better to wait until Mac pulled on the condom and tried to do the deed. Which meant MJ would need to stay here and watch—no, listen to God knew what torture they were going to put Tasha through. Shit.
MJ couldn’t tune out the details of what was happening if she wanted to stay alert enough to know when to make a move. Over the slurping type sounds that made MJ’s stomach roll, Tasha kept up a running one-way dialogue.
“How do you prefer to die? You’re not going to live after this, you know. Before you die, you’ll tell me who you’re working for.”
“Jesus, woman, shut up. We’re just having some fun. We have orders to hold you, not kill you, but no one said you had to be in good shape to be picked up,” Mac said.
“Shove something in her mouth,” Joe instructed.
“I’ve got something–”
“You put your dick anywhere near my mouth and I’ll bite it off.”
“Put a sock in it.”
Tasha abruptly fell silent. MJ peeked over the couch again, but didn’t have a clear view of what they’d shoved in her mouth.
“Thank God. Fuck her and get it over with,” Joe said.
“Tough to keep my dick hard with all that jabbering.”
“Then move out of the way and let me do it.”
“Hang on. I’m ready. Toss me that condom there on the counter.” Joe reached back for the packet, MJ watched Mac rip the package, position the condom.
Now was the time.
At the same time MJ moved, Tasha wrapped Mac’s waist with her legs. “Damn, she’s squeezing me, her legs are fucking strong.”
MJ moved closer, saw Tasha had the guy in a leg lock, preventing him from penetrating. Swift and silent, MJ came up behind, grabbed his hair, pulled his head back.
Before MJ pierced Mac’s skin, Joe noticed what was happening and dropped the camera. Tasha released her hold on Mac, causing him to stumble back closer to MJ, who didn’t hesitate but sliced the knife across his throat.
In rhythmic pulse the blood pumped until he was as good as dead. She dropped him to the floor and turned her attention to Joe. Tasha had wrapped her legs around Joe’s neck holding him trapped before he could make a move for MJ.
Joe slugged Tasha in the ribs, loosened her grip enough where he got away. He stalked after MJ who still had the knife.
He grabbed a lamp. MJ jumped to avoid his wild swings. She debated throwing the knife or kicking the lamp out of his hand and go in close.
“Never fought a naked woman,” Joe taunted, clearly feeling she was outmatched.
“A naked woman’s going to kill you.”
“Think so?”
“I killed your partner.”
“You got lucky.”
“Think so?” MJ circled around watching for an opening, a stumble, the slightest misstep.
“I think you’re the one going to be under me begging before I kill you.”
“I thought you didn’t have orders to kill?”
“Extenuating circumstances. And I’ll still have one of you left alive.”
MJ glanced at Tasha who was stretching on the board trying to get her cuffs unhooked from the peg. Actually it just looked like a link was slipped over the peg, and she should be free any second.
Yes. MJ turned back to the man, knowing she needed to distract him. Keep him talking.
“Right now we’re both alive. Your partner’s dead.”
“So one of you dying is justifiable. Make us even. No hard feelings.”
“I have hard feelings.” This from Tasha who came up behind him and wrapped her cuffs around his neck. MJ watched while the woman choked Joe with the chain.
“Who you working for?” she said to his ear.
He struggled, his face turning red.
“Tell me, and I’ll let you live.”
“Fuck. You. Bitch.”
Whoever Joe worked for, he was loyal.
“Maybe if I carved on him a little,” MJ suggested, holding the blood-covered knife ready.
“Carve ‘asshole’ into his chest,” Tasha said.
“Good enough.” MJ approached but Joe went crazy, kicking and twisting. MJ stayed just out of his reach while he tired himself.
“I don’t know who he is,” Joe said, gasping for air.
MJ approached again, and again he went crazy. Tasha kept him pulled back off balance holding the chain tight. He didn’t stop fighting, grew red in the face trying to breathe. Slowly the struggling stopped and he dropped into unconsciousness.
“Think you should kill him?” MJ asked.
“Why not? He doesn’t know who his boss is or he’s not telling. Either way he’s no use to us.”
Tasha held on past the time he passed out, long enough to make sure he was dead.
“About damn time you got over to help me.” Tasha got the key off Joe and passed it to MJ. “Get these off me.”
MJ unlocked the cuffs. “That’s gratitude for you.”
“I saw you get that paper clip.”
“I thought you were knocked silly.”
“I bumped my head yes, but my brain still worked. What took you so fucking long?”
“You’re welcome. You’ve got blood all on your legs.”
Tasha looked down and grimaced. “Ugh.” She looked around, went to the wet bar, hopped on the counter and put her legs in the sink. She wrapped an arm around her waist. “Shit, that fucking hurts.”
“Old Joe got your ribs pretty good.”
Tasha turned on the water. “I got him back.”
“Joe said they weren’t supposed to kill us.”
“No, save that for whoever is calling the shots. Wish he’d talked.” Tasha washed her legs and turned off the water. “Hand me that little towel there.”
MJ tossed the towel from the counter top. “Now, what?”
“Now, we get out of here.”
“Naked?”
Tasha looked around. “Your clothes are ruined, that’s for sure. I still have my pants. Our shoes are okay.” Tasha picked up her shoes, tossed MJ hers. “Bastards. We’ll get some clothes upstairs.”
“We need this.” MJ grabbed the camcorder, pulled the small cassette free before pointing out, “The coroner is likely still here.”
“One problem at a time. I think better dressed.”
“We could use some of Joe’s clothes.”
“Ugh. Feel free, I’d rather have clean clothes that don’t smell like asshole.”
Tasha had a point.
“We didn’t get to question them,” MJ stated the obvious.
“Yeah, uncooperative bastards. More work for us.”
“Wait, before we go, I have an idea.” MJ searched through Joe’s clothes.
“What?”
“Where’s his phone?”
“Front pocket.”
MJ pulled it out. She scrolled through the phone book. “Only numbers. No names.”
“Inconvenient he doesn’t have the boss’s name listed under “boss” so we could just go get him.”
“Most likely the boss is using a throwaway phone. I have another idea.” MJ lifted Joe’s arm. “Help me get him closer to Mac. The last number he called has to be his boss, or someone important. I’ll hit redial.”
“Gonna send the guy a message?”
“Figure it’s the fastest way for me to get back home if he comes out of the woodwork.”
The two women dragged Joe over to Mac, arranged them both so it was clear they were dead.
MJ aimed the camera phone.
“Smile,” Tasha said to the two dead men.
“Ha. Ha.” MJ clicked off the shot
and typed in a message. She pulled up the last number dialed, clicked to send.
Come and get us yourself, you bastard.
Chapter 21
MJ always thought playing with the gelatin-type treats she made for Angel was fun. It wasn’t quite as fun when she was the one jiggling herself. Her whole body shook like a pan of barely set gelatin as she followed Tasha up the stairs sans clothes and armed only with sneakers and a handgun.
It’d been a long time since MJ had killed someone. The last time she’d done it had been personal with Keith, but rarely was killing ever so close and personal as slicing a knife across a guy’s throat.
The unexpected experience sent MJ’s thoughts scattering, scurrying around from one topic to another. Being naked. Angel. Shaking. Angel. Close to death. Angel. Dead guy. Angel. Ben. Oh, there her thought caught a little snag. What would Ben say if he could see them now? She could pretend he’d say something about her hot body and totally ignore Tasha’s, but in reality he’d more likely say, “I told you so,” ignoring both their naked hot bodies.
Now her hands shook. No, damn it. No stupid stress reactions. She had to get out of this house without getting caught. No time for break downs. She forced air in her lungs and jerked her thoughts around to the task ahead of her.
Tasha paused at the top of the stairs, pressed her ear to the door.
“You think that panel closed again?” MJ asked.
“Sure as hell hope not.”
But it had closed.
“Shit,” Tasha said. “There’s bound to be a lever on this side, Mac went out and came back didn’t he?”
Tasha ran her hands over the wall. MJ, a couple of steps below her saw a brass lever by Tasha’s foot. “Look, down.”
Tasha stepped on the lever, the panel slid open. “Easy enough.”
“Had to be easy if Mac used it.”
“Don’t speak ill of the dearly departed.”
“Hmph. Such reverence from a killer.”
“You killed Mac, not me.”
“All right, play semantics if you want.”