by Brenna Zinn
The muscles in Chet’s back stiffened as he considered the threat made to Emma the day before. Even now there were workers upstairs removing the ominous message ripped into her bedroom wall.
She must be punished.
Chet shook his head, trying to erase the unsettling image from his mind.
Good Lord, was there someone out there now trying to be a copycat? Another deranged serial killer hell-bent on resurrecting the Dungeon Master name?
“What can I do, Burke? To keep Emma safe?” Chet asked. “Even when the alarm is monitored, the police are at least fifteen minutes away. More than enough time to hurt her.”
Or worse.
“I’d say you’ve got three choices.” Burke turned his attention back to Chet, his face grave. “Hire my company’s services to bring in a bodyguard for round-the-clock surveillance. Buy a gun and move in with her. Or get her out of here for good. Whatever decision you end up with, you need to make it today. She’s not safe here alone.”
Sitting at Emma’s kitchen table, Chet checked the small clock over her stove for the third time. Four thirty. She’d be home in an hour. Sixty short minutes left to come up with a reasonable way to convince her to let him move in.
He’d already thought through the options. There was no way either of them could afford to hire a bodyguard for God only knew how long. Emma had purchased this house days ago, so the chances of her deciding to sell were next to none. His moving in simply made the most sense.
At least to him.
Emma, on the other hand, might not see things the same way. After months of effort, she’d finally allowed him to take her out on a simple date to the college cafeteria. Just last night they had made love for the first time. Both events huge steps toward bridging the gap between being just sexual partners to… To what?
Boyfriend and girlfriend?
No. That label was too juvenile. He may as well say they were “going together”.
Married?
No. Not yet. But one day, if he could get her to say yes.
Lovers?
He groaned. Getting her to buy into his moving in was tough enough. Coming up with some kind of label for their relationship seemed next to impossible. Hopefully the subject wouldn’t come up as they talked about what to do about her situation. Hell, after he told her about the women who had been murdered in her basement, maybe she’d surprise him and decide to move out tonight. Not likely, but who knew?
To add to his problems, he had no weapon to use as protection even if he did move in. Because of the gun laws in Illinois, he hadn’t been able to purchase a gun. Between applying for the Firearm Owner’s Identification card and the seventy-two-hour wait period to buy a handgun, there simply was no legal way to get a gun on such short notice.
Illegally obtaining a gun? Sure. All he need do was talk to the right people with enough cash and he’d have a pistol in his hand before he could whistle the Star Spangled Banner. But he was already teetering in his relationship with his family, especially his father. After nearly being cut off physically, emotionally and financially from his family for his partying, another black mark to his reputation might be the straw to break that camel’s back. Better to do things by the book. Especially if his living with Emma and owning a gun turned out to be their long-term solution.
That can’t be the case. This place was already creepy before I knew the Dungeon Master had lived here and killed all those women. The faster I can get Emma out of this place for good, the better.
Until he had a gun, they could live out of a hotel. They would need to be there for just a few days. Surely he could get her to pack a bag and stay someplace in town for a few days. Even if she decided she wanted to stay there alone, he wouldn’t throw up any objection. At least she wouldn’t be out here in the boonies alone.
Maybe I shouldn’t have hired the men to repair her bedroom wall as a surprise. She might be more willing to leave if she still saw the threat there.
Damn. What’s wrong with me? This whole crazy situation has got me questioning everything I do or say.
The sound of gravel crunching under tires in her driveway caught his attention. Chet glanced up at the clock again. Only five minutes had passed since the last time he looked. Why was Emma home so early?
Still not quite ready for the difficult conversation that he knew was unavoidable, Chet pushed his chair back from the table and made his way to the backyard to meet Emma by the garage. When he saw the little yellow Mitsubishi Eclipse parked next to his BMW, shock slammed into him like a wrecking ball.
Trish. There was no doubt. Her calling card of a license plate said it all. Trouble.
Black hair sparking in the sun as if it were polished onyx, his former sub slinked from the car in a white, skintight minidress and high heels. Clearly she hadn’t bothered wearing a bra. Her pert nipples poked through the fabric of the dress as though trying to break free.
She truly was a beautiful woman. Curvy like an hourglass, her body was tight and toned. If her tanned legs looked any longer, they would have touched the sky. Too bad she was also as mean and crazy as a honey badger.
When she caught sight of him, her plump pink lips parted and she flashed him a smile.
“Hello, Chet,” she purred in a husky voice as she closed the car door. “I bet you’re surprised to see me again, especially at your girlfriend’s house, huh?”
“Surprised isn’t exactly the right word for what I’m feeling right now, Trish.” Feet pounding the walkway, Chet ate up the space between them. When he was a short distance from her car, he stopped in the middle of the path, hands on hips, to prevent her from coming any closer to the house. Seething with anger, his chest heaved as he strived to maintain his composure. The last thing he needed was for Trish to know she was getting under his skin. “Mind telling me how you got this address and what you’re doing here?”
She waved her hand in the air, dismissing the question. “Don’t be silly. I work in administration at the college. As soon as Scott told me your girlfriend’s name and that she worked in the math department, finding her address was simple. Isn’t it amazing how quickly a computer can spit out about anything you want to know?”
Chet ground his teeth. Scott, his good buddy and roommate, had pulled the trigger on this mess. Exacting his revenge for a stupid argument over having Trish at their place. The next time he saw the overgrown gym rat, he’d pummel him to the ground and make him eat dirt. Then he’d toss Scott out of the apartment, along with Charlie. As far as he was concerned, he could no longer trust either one. And if he couldn’t trust them, he didn’t want them near.
“And you’re here because?” he prodded.
Trish’s crystal-blue eyes lit on him. “I came to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Trish. I can’t imagine anything you have that I could possibly want.”
“Oh I don’t know about that.” Like a black panther preparing to pounce on its next meal, she slowly made her way to him then placed the tip of her finger in her mouth. When she removed the wet digit, she tapped him on the nose with it. “How would you like to get me out of your hair forever?”
This time she actually did surprise him. “I’m listening.”
“Before I accepted the job with the school, I was invited into a business deal down in Florida. I didn’t have the capital to get in, so I had to pass it up. Turns out, the offer is still available.” She placed her hand on his chest and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “All I need is ten grand to buy in. Then I can move to Miami and help get the business up and running.”
“So you decided to come to me.” Chet snorted. “What makes you think I’d give you that kind of money?”
“Oh I don’t know,” she said, glancing at Emma’s house. “I think I can be fairly persuasive, when I put my mind to it.”
Revolted, Chet pushed her hand away. “This is blackmail.”
Trish stepped back, her lower lip out in a pout. “Honestly, Chet. Thi
s is a business deal.” She raised her chin, and the smile she wore vanished. “The blackmail comes into play when I tell you I won’t accept your money to leave for Florida unless you fuck me one last time in your girlfriend’s house. But we have to do it today. Otherwise, I withdraw my offer.”
Chet recoiled as though he’d been sucker punched. “Are you out of your crazed mind? We are done, Trish. D-O-N-E. You need to move on to someone else.”
“Tick tock, tick tock. You’re wasting time.” She examined her watch and tapped its crystal with a bright pink nail. “It’s almost five. Your Ms. Emma will most likely be home in half an hour. Do you think you can get me off and out of here before then?”
Pulling himself up to his full height to create the most intimidating pose he could muster, Chet narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “I know you. I know you very well. If I wrote you a check for ten grand then fucked you until you couldn’t walk straight, you’d eventually be back wanting something else. You are as trustworthy as a snake.” He lowered his head, his nose coming within an inch of hers. “I wouldn’t trust you even if you drove up in a full nun’s habit and told me you’d given your soul over to Jesus.”
“My, my. Haven’t you become cynical and cold? So unlike the hot, lusty man I used to know. Maybe this will help thaw you out.” Lifting from the hem, she peeled the mini dress from her body and over her head, then tossed it on the grass.
The dark thatch between her thighs beckoned his gaze. Already wet, the moisture in her well-trimmed pussy caught the sunshine and glistened like diamonds.
Reaching up, she massaged her breasts before pinching her nipples. “I know you like what you see. Your dick doesn’t lie.”
It was true. In the seconds he had seen Trish’s amazing body and soaked cunt, his traitorous cock had stiffened and ached with the need for release.
Angered with his own lack of control, Chet adjusted himself and trained his gaze to her face. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops. You’re trespassing and you’re a fucking nuisance.”
“I’m a nuisance? That’s not very nice.” She licked her shiny pink lips. “But you can make it up to me by letting me suck your cock. At least for starters.”
Trish fell to her knees before him, then looked up. Her light-blue eyes were amazingly large and round. Before he could stop her, she grabbed hold of the top of his pants and pulled. The button fly of the well-worn jeans easily gave way. Like a catapult, his cock sprang from the confines.
As he grabbed Trish’s hair to pull her away, Emma drove up her driveway. When she took in the scene playing out in her backyard, her car came to a screeching halt.
“God damn it!” Chet pushed Trish back, then fumbled to put his penis back into his pants. His heart squeezed as it tumbled down to his roiling stomach. “Emma,” he shouted, making his way to her. “This isn’t what you think. It’s not what it seems.”
A cross between hurt and fire played on Emma’s face. Not bothering to close her car door, she stood near the garage, her arms crossed. “Get out of here. Both of you. Just get the fuck out of here.”
“Please, Emma. I can explain everything.”
“Right now I don’t want an explanation. I’ve seen all I need. If Scott hadn’t called me at work and told me to get home right away. I might have missed the show.” Emma pointed to his BMW. “Now get out and take your trash with you.”
“Scott?” Chet’s legs, already trembling from extreme anxiety, nearly buckled. “Scott called you?”
“You bet he did. He was fuming. Seems Trish had blown him off so she could visit you here, at your request.” Her beautiful hazel eyes welled up and her body shuddered. “Apparently he was telling me the truth.”
“Looks like she finally caught on to us, Chet,” Trish said coolly from behind. “Let’s go back to your place so we can finish what we started. We can play with that new flogger I bought you. I know how much you like it.”
“No. What they’re saying isn’t true. None of this is true.” A crushing weight of hurt and loss pressed against his chest with heartbreaking force. In a flash, all he’d painstakingly constructed with Emma was crashing down around him. “Emma, I love you. Please give me a chance to explain.”
“Right now I’m too upset to hear anything.” Emma turned her back. She lowered her head and slumped her shoulders. “Go, Chet. Just go.”
Chet wheeled over to Trish. He grabbed her arms and shook her. “Tell her. Tell her the truth, damn you.”
“Please, baby,” Trish cooed. “Don’t be upset that she knows. She can join us if she likes. I’ve never done it with a woman before. But for you, I’m willing to give it a try.”
Kinetic energy built in his muscles as the urge to hurt Trish brewed like a dangerous storm. Before he did something he knew he’d regret, Chet released the wicked bitch. “You disgust me. I didn’t realize how low you’d go. Now I do.”
Resigned there was nothing he could do to repair the damage done, at least not while Emma refused to listen, Chet headed for his car. He raked his hand through his hair, wishing he could pull out each strand. Surely that pain would pale in comparison to the anguish of losing the woman he loved.
Without another word, he yanked the keys from his pocket. Pulling away from the house, he took in both women. Light and dark. Good and evil. Love and hate.
This is not over. I promise both of you. This is NOT over.
Chapter Seven
The flickering glow of candles Emma arranged throughout the house helped make the place cozier. A place where she didn’t mind being alone. She’d learned the trick after leaving her ex-husband. No matter how lousy her surroundings, candlelight softened everything. Including loneliness.
Emma shivered as she walked through the hallway to her kitchen. She rubbed her arms as if doing so would erase the memory of last night’s nightmare and the message that had been written on her bedroom wall. Thank God Chet had been kind enough to have the wall repaired before she slept in the room again. If the threat was still there, she didn’t think she’d be able to make it through a night alone.
At the thought of Chet, a tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away, angry with herself for giving in to her emotions, and sucked in a cleansing breath.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
He’s an asshole and you don’t need him.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
She’d spent the entire evening sobbing after making sure both Chet and his whore of a submissive were long gone. Releasing every ounce of hurt and betrayal through hot, salty tears until there was nothing left inside. When the emptiness consumed her, she had had enough. There would be no more crying. No more pity party.
Just as she had managed after leaving her ex, she would pick herself up, dust herself off and get on with her life again. She didn’t need Chet or any other man to make her happy. The terrible void in her heart would be filled by something new.
When the fall semester starts, I’ll be too knee-deep in work and decorating this house to worry about anything else. My job and my home are my life.
She nodded, bolstering her resolve.
That suits me perfectly. Just fucking fine.
Emma stepped into the kitchen and turned on the light. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright glow of the fluorescent bulbs. On the table, the manual for her new security system awaited her attention. Sure she could finally look at the instructions without weeping, she sat down and started reading. Chet’s handwritten notes popped out big and bold on the inside of the flap of the pamphlet.
“The system is not monitored until the phone is installed. Until the system is monitored, only a house alarm will activate.”
Great. Guess there won’t be any sound sleeping for me for a while.
“Press the button with the picture of the house for immediate activation.”
No problem. Easy enough.
As she made her way through the manual, she noticed her breath. On an exha
le, a puff of frozen vapor materialized. Making sure she wasn’t imaging things, she let out another breath. Once again, a fine white cloud rose into the air.
Goose bumps flared over her arms. In a matter of seconds, the kitchen was freezing cold.
Emma looked up from the pamphlet. The refrigerator and freezer doors stood wide open, as did each cabinet door. With lightning speed, crystals formed and grew on every surface, coating the entire room with a thin layer of ice.
A dot appeared in the frost on the window above the kitchen sink. She watched in horror as the dot expanded into a line, and then into a letter.
The chair she sat on banged to the floor as Emma fled to the outside door. With unwieldy hands that felt frozen through, she frantically fumbled with the locking mechanism of the master bolt. She glanced back at the window and let out a scream.
Etched into the icy glass were three jagged letters. RUN.
Powerless to unlock the door, she turned and scrambled as best she could across the film of ice now blanketing the floor. Before she reached the hallway, both feet slipped out from under her. Emma slammed onto her back, knocking out the air in her lungs, which burned as she wheezed.
Too afraid to stay in the kitchen a second longer, she rose to her hands and knees and crawled. As she crossed the threshold to the hall, something grabbed her ankles and tugged, causing her to fall flat. Panicked, she grabbed for the sides of the entryway. Anything to keep the unseen force from pulling her back into the kitchen.
The force yanking her legs strengthened. The skin around her ankles burned as if they’d been covered with molten lava.
Emma held on to the doorframe for dear life. Splinters dug painfully under her nails as she gouged long streaks in the painted wood. Unable to maintain a handhold, Emma flew across the icy floor toward the pantry when she finally let go. She batted at the slick floor, the kitchen table, even the overturned chair to stop herself from being pulled any farther. When she heard the heavy metal door to the secret dungeon open, all the lights in the house turned off. With the exception of the dim glow of the candles in the living room and hallway, her home was dark.