Blood Reckoning: DI Jack Brady 4
Page 31
Suddenly his other hand was tearing at her vest top. He found her breasts and started twisting and pulling at them roughly.
She felt physically sick. She wanted to vomit as his hand mauled her. But she knew that no matter what he did to her she had to keep focused. Her mind was racing. She was trying to process what was happening to her and at the same time trying to figure out how to get free.
Was he a punter? No . . . no. She’d been roughed up before but this was different. He was different . . .
Then it hit her. The news. It had been all over the news. There was a rapist in the area. Shit! Shit! Shit! How could she have been so stupid?
The police had put up photofits of the bloke throughout the local pubs. There was even one pinned by the toilets in the Ballarat. He had attacked three women in the past two months. And from what she’d read in the local paper that evening, the third one had been hurt pretty badly – enough for the poor cow to need reconstructive surgery.
Shit . . . shit . . . shit . . .
Tortured thoughts tore through her mind.
She was confused. She was sure he had only struck in Whitley Bay. She had been relaxed about the story because this was North Shields. How wrong could she have been?
She had to get away from him. Fight . . . Anything to stop him hurting her . . .
She used all her strength to prise his hand from over her mouth. Her long manicured nails snapped and split as she scratched and tore to no avail at the gloved hand. If she could scream it might be enough to scare him off. Desperate, she took her chance and bit as hard as she could through the leather to the flesh underneath.
His reaction was sudden and swift. He raised his knee and rammed it as hard as he could into the small of her back to make her let go.
It had the desired effect.
She was too winded to realise what was about to happen.
The first blow was a surprise. It split her nose clean open. She heard the sickening sound of snapping bones as his fist connected with her face, followed by the hissing of escaping air and blood. She was stunned. She had no chance of protecting herself against what was to follow.
The second punch was harder than the first. It smashed into her face with such force that her left eye socket imploded. Her head snapped violently backwards as her teeth ricocheted off her bottom lip, bursting it open like a swollen dam. Her legs gave way beneath her as everything went black.
Minutes passed as she lay on the ground, her body consumed with a blinding agony. Nothing made sense. All she knew was that she hurt so badly she was certain she would die. Slowly, the hazy fog started to lift. She remembered that she’d been attacked. He had dragged her into the perilously black alley behind the pub. She was aware that she was lying on something cold and hard – the ground. She must have collapsed after he’d punched her.
She could feel the panic overwhelming her.
She looked around in the darkness for him.
Where are you, you bastard? Where the fuck are you?
Her left eye had swollen shut and her right eye was nothing more than a slit. But it was enough to see the glow of a cigarette in the blackness by the large waste bins.
She realised with sickening clarity it was him. That he hadn’t finished with her – not yet.
‘Where is he?’ he asked, throwing his cigarette butt away.
His voice was seamless and flat, devoid of any emotion.
It was this that scared her. It was the voice of someone capable of murder.
Her mind spun as she tried to figure out who he was after.
Realising he wasn’t getting anywhere with her, he decided to jolt her memory. He walked over and bent down.
She waited, expecting him to hit her again, but he took her by surprise when he started caressing her bare thin legs with his gloved hand.
She trembled as he touched her gently. He slowly moved his hand further and further up her legs until it was under her skirt.
She tried to struggle, to get his hand away from between her legs. But he had her pinned down.
‘I said, where is he?’
He stopped caressing her. His hand had become a ball of tension, waiting to explode.
She attempted to shake her head.
It wasn’t the answer he wanted. He rammed his fist as hard as he could between her legs.
The pain was unbearable. She was certain she would pass out. Instead she retched.
He stood back and watched while she vomited, until eventually only bile was left. His stomach was turning at the sight of her. Vomit combined with blood trailed down the seeping, swollen mess that was her face.
‘Nick. Where is he, you fucking slag?’
He was starting to lose his patience.
The question jolted her.
‘What?’ she mumbled through swollen, bloodied lips.
But the word she uttered made no sense.
Irritated, he bent over her, bringing his face close to hers. She was terrified. The look in his eyes told him he wasn’t just going to rape her – he was going to kill her.
‘No . . . please . . . no . . .’
But the words were inaudible. The only sound was a gargling, hissing noise.
‘I said, where the fuck is NICK, you stupid bitch?’
He rammed a hand deep under her ribs to make sure that she was lucid.
She gasped in agony.
When she managed to breathe again, she mustered all the strength she had and spat at him.
Blood, vomit and spit hit his face. He took a tissue out of his jacket and wiped his cheek. He then took off the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
‘Maybe it’s time to teach you some manners,’ he suggested as he began to unzip his trousers.
She tried to get up but her body refused to move. She willed herself to make a run for it. But something was wrong. Her legs wouldn’t work.
Move . . . come on, Trina . . . Fucking move, girl! Move it before it’s too late!
Desperate, she tried shuffling backwards on her elbows, dragging herself towards the entrance of the alley.
He was more than ready. He had been anticipating this moment for some time. He took his time stretching a condom over himself. He knew he couldn’t take a chance with this disease-riddled bitch. He kneeled down and grabbed her by the legs as she tried in vain to scramble away from him. He leaned over and flipped her onto her stomach.
She groaned in pain at the sudden, violent movement.
Her reaction had the desired effect. It made him even more excited. He pulled up her faux leather skirt, exposing her black thong.
She attempted to struggle but was unable to move under the crushing weight of his body. She felt him yank her thong to one side before he forced himself into her. The pain was excruciating. But it was more the humiliation that hurt. Hot, furious tears slipped down her face as he succeeded in violently thrusting himself deep into her. One hand restrained her head, forcing her damaged face into the hard concrete, while the other held his phone as he filmed what he was doing to her.
She couldn’t breathe. Dirt filled her bloodied mouth as she choked and gasped, desperate for air.
She could feel her body beginning to convulse as the lack of oxygen took effect. She prayed for unconsciousness. She was lucky. She blacked out before he started to really lose control.
Once finished with her he felt nothing but disgust and contempt. He gave her lifeless body another hard kick. Nothing. Satisfied, he picked it up and dumped it into the pub’s industrial waste bins where it belonged.
Fucking bitch. Deserved everything she got. He had bigger problems than some has-been prostitute. He still had to find Nick Brady. And when he did . . .
He smiled at the prospect. He had what he wanted safe in a plastic bag: evidence that he had dealt with her. He felt no remorse. She was a used-up prostitute who was better off dead. No one would miss her.
He threw the business card with her name scrawled on the back into the alleyway before turnin
g to walk back to his car. He doubted the police would be able to identify her. Not in the condition he had left her in. But he was more than happy to point them in the right direction. After all, he had a job to do and he had to be sure that the police didn’t fuck everything up.
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Table of Contents
About the Author
Title Page
Imprint Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Contents
SATURDAY
Chapter One
Chapter Two
SUNDAY
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
MONDAY
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
TUESDAY
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
WEDNESDAY
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
THURSDAY
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
FRIDAY
Chapter Forty-Eight
Acknowledgements
Blind Alley
Chapter One
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