He set her on his bed and took a step back. All of the lights were off, but he could see her perfectly from the moonlight that came through the skylight. Her ass was big and thick and her belly slightly rounded. Yes, she definitely had the thickness of a full-figured woman, and that had Ryker’s cock punching forward, hard and insistent.
She’d wake up soon, probably scream and fight him, but he expected that. He went over to his dresser, set the duffle on it for a second, and reached inside for some rope. Once he was back to her, he tied her hands to the headboard, feeling like a sick motherfucker for the first time in his life, and then moved back a step again. There she was, all spread out on his bed and bound like some kind of sacrifice, and all he could feel was this filthy arousal drumming through his body. He grabbed a rag and gagged her, because even if no one would be able to hear her screaming, he sure as hell didn’t want to listen to it. And then he left her alone in his room to get a stiff drink, because right now a little liquid oblivion sounded like a good idea.
Chapter Three
Ouch!
Fiona’s head hurt, and as she opened her eyes, her vision was blurry.
What the hell happened?
Her thoughts and memories were all over the place. What was the last thing she did? That was right—she had gone to Jake’s for some sugar.
Jake!
Pulling on her arms, she gasped, and suddenly her vision cleared. Staring up at her arms she saw her wrists were bound together. The rope hurt her arms as they tied her to the bed. Crap, what the hell had she gotten herself into? The man, Ryker, yes, that was his name. He had killed Jake.
Her heart raced and her mouth ran dry at what she’d witnessed. There had been so much blood. Why did all these things keep happening to her? First her parents and now Jake were gone from her. Was she a bad person? Was this the way God paid her back?
No, stop thinking like that.
“I see you’re awake.”
She looked to the end of the bed. Ryker stared at her. In one hand he held a glass with dark amber liquid inside. He didn’t look drunk as he observed her.
“Strange,” he said.
“What is?” Her words came out croaky.
“Most women in your situation scream or do something to try to stop what’s going on. You, you’re not even crying.” He tilted his head to the side, watching her. “Interesting.”
Fiona licked her lips trying to figure out if that was a good thing or not.
She looked around the room or as much of the room as she could see, which wasn’t a lot. There was no way she was getting out of here alive.
He killed Jake.
He’s going to kill me.
I don’t want to die.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, making no sense to her at all. Why wasn’t she screaming for help? What was the point in screaming? No one would save her. This man didn’t strike her as the kind to have people waiting for him. Wherever she was, they were alone together.
He killed Jake.
She couldn’t get away from the thought or the image of Jake dead on the floor. They’d not been great friends. He was just the only person she felt comfortable enough to ask to borrow sugar. They didn’t really know each other. He’d not really been a friend to her, just a neighbor.
“You’re still not screaming.”
Again, she licked her lips, not knowing what to say to him.
“Why are you not screaming?”
“Would it matter?” she asked.
“No, it wouldn’t. If you feel the need to scream, go ahead. You could scream as long and as loud as you like and no one would answer you. I’m the only one here.”
“Then why should I do it?”
Why are you questioning a killer?
Do you have a death wish?
Ryker smirked. “Good point. You’d just be wasting your voice.”
“Are you going to kill me?” She didn’t want to ask the question but knew in her heart she couldn’t handle not knowing what was going on. What was her future? Would she be looking down the barrel of a gun very soon?
He was scary and not just because of his scars. She’d never seen a man so large, muscular, and menacing.
“At last, she asks something sensible.” He took a sip of the dark liquid in the glass. His gaze didn’t move away from her. What was he thinking? What was he planning?
Would she beg for death before he allowed her to finally die? She hoped for a quick and clean death. Fiona hated pain of any kind and wasn’t afraid to beg if it came to it. He tensed, and she couldn’t help but wince, closing her eyes so she didn’t see anything.
He chuckled. “I’m not going to kill you.”
She blew out a breath and forced herself to open her eyes, staring back at him. “You’re not?”
Another sip of his drink and he once again tilted his head to the side. “Well, it depends on how you answer my next questions.”
“Please, I promise I won’t say anything. I’m nothing. I’m no one, please. I don’t want to die.” Her life was miserable. There was no one in her world who cared about her, yet she knew she didn’t want to die at his hands or any hands. She hoped to one day marry a man she loved or at the very least cared about. Maybe in time have a couple of kids and dogs and they could all grow old together. If this man wished, he’d take everything away from her. She’d have nothing but the few memories she’d managed to create for herself.
The pain of losing my family.
Great life, Fiona, great fucking life.
The sound of a chair scraping along the floor filled every one of her senses. She tried to move away from where he sat, but there was no give in the bindings. He’d secured her well.
“Now, I don’t want you to bore me with your begging. I’ve never been into begging so it won’t do you any good.” He placed the glass on top of the drawer beside the bed. “What’s your name? If you lie, I will know and then I’ll punish you. I’m not scared to hurt you. I heard him call you Fiona back at the apartment. Is that it?”
The image of Jake dead on the floor entered her mind again. Yeah, she knew Ryker wasn’t afraid to hurt her. He’d probably killed lots of women.
She nodded. “Yes, my name is Fiona.”
“Fiona what?”
“Sterling.”
“Your name’s Fiona Sterling?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-three years old.”
How was she answering these questions clearly?
Blowing out a breath, she stared up at the ceiling wishing there was something to look forward to other than her untimely death.
Morbid, so fucking morbid.
“You’re young. You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who’s had a hard life. What’s your story?” he asked.
“I don’t have a story.” She was talking to a guy she just saw murder her only friend and now he was asking her so many normal questions. It didn’t seem right to her. The accusations he’d thrown at Jake—were they true? She hadn’t spent any length of time with Jake. Fiona had only ever visited him a few times for sugar or coffee. Crap, she needed to learn to stop giving her life story to total strangers.
“You’ve got a story. Everyone in this shitty little world has a story. Some stories are fucking boring while others hold a little excitement.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “What’s yours?”
“I’m not a murderer.”
“No? Well, I am.”
Her heart raced at how easily he talked about killing.
He chuckled. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Why did you kill Jake?” He wasn’t going to let her go, so what was the point in not asking?
“That’s private.”
“He was my … friend.”
“So? It doesn’t mean he wasn’t a little shit who fucked off the wrong people. And he wasn’t your friend. He was a neighbor.” He took hold of the glass and pressed the glass to his lips.
<
br /> “Jake was a nice man to me.”
“He was an addict and a waste of space. It would have only been a matter of time before he got you doing more.”
She shook her head. No, Jake had helped her when no one else had.
“What’s your story?”
Fiona closed her eyes, feeling the tears fill her eyes. She didn’t want any droplet to fall, yet she knew it was going to happen. Her tears were already leaking out of her eyes.
“I can sit here all day and night. I’m sure you’re going to need the bathroom and food. It’s up to you if you want to get either. I’d start talking if I was you.”
“You’re a fucking monster,” she said.
All he did was smile. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve been called.”
She didn’t imagine it was. His scars didn’t bother her, but she imagined there were plenty of people who were repulsed by them.
“I had a family. A nice one with loving parents and siblings.”
“You don’t anymore?”
She shook her head. Speaking about them aloud was too hard.
“No, I don’t have anyone. The only person who actually gave a shit about me was Jake, and you killed him.” Staring up at the ceiling she wondered if there was going to be any way of getting out of this.
“What happened to your family?” he asked.
Blowing out a breath, she didn’t look away from the ceiling. “They all died in a plane crash. I had one more exam and then I was going to join them. Bad weather and they didn’t make it. No one on that plane made it.”
Saying the words didn’t make her feel any easier.
“You’ve been on your own since then?”
“Yes. I work, and I sleep.” Her life had turned into one long line of nothingness.
“Pretty shit and mundane life if the only person in your world was a drug dealing addict like Jake.”
She nodded. How could she deny it? There was a time when someone had loved her, cared about her. Fiona hadn’t known Jake all that well even though she trusted him with the truth about her parents.
The tears fell thick and fast.
“Can I go to the bathroom now?” she asked, feeling the need to relieve her bladder.
He didn’t say anything for so long that she turned to look at him.
Neither of them spoke as she stared back at him, waiting.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he said.
She didn’t have any intention of running. Ryker stood and started to untie the knot holding her hands together. She gasped as circulation came back as she moved her arms.
He gripped her arm and helped her off the bed. The strength in his touch was hard for her to ignore. With quick movements, he walked her to a door along the wall. He opened the door, flicking the light on to show the bathroom. “Take a piss and don’t try anything funny. I’m not in the fucking mood.”
She closed the bathroom door and rested against it.
Pressing a hand to her racing heart, she wondered what he expected her to do. She wasn’t going to run. There was no one for her to run to for help. She was trapped in the middle of nowhere with a killer.
Great, Fiona, way to go.
Chapter Four
Ryker grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured his glass full. Why had he brought that girl back to his place? It was a stupid decision, but it was like he had been moving on instinct. He couldn’t just let her leave his place, couldn’t thrust her out there knowing what she had seen, and realizing that if Tricks or any of his other men found out she was alive they’d snuff out her life. But he couldn’t tell the man he worked for that he had the girl that had witnessed the murder Ryker had carried out on Tricks’s order. That would complicate things and put her in a position Ryker didn’t want her in.
He leaned against the kitchen counter and stared out the window above the sink. He could hear the water running in the bathroom, and although he was pretty sure fear and intelligence would keep her from running, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. There was nothing out there for her, not for miles upon miles. He had meant it when he said no one would hear her scream. They were alone, utterly alone. Being in the line of work that dealt with death at his hands, Ryker needed to make sure that no one snuck up on him. It was a rare occasion when someone got the upper hand, and if they did he made sure it never happened again. This property was twenty acres of solitude, and his cabin was right in the middle of it.
The sound of the toilet flushing had him turning away from the window and staring at the bathroom door. He didn’t know what she was doing in there, maybe looking for an escape, but there was none. He’d also made sure to take out anything that could be used as a weapon. She had only been passed out for a short amount of time, but he had made sure to lock up the shit that she could use against him, not that he would let her get that far anyway. But Ryker wasn’t all for taking chances.
Yet you took a big fucking chance bringing her here when Tricks could easily come to the cabin and find her.
He took a swig straight from the bottle when he had finished off the booze in his glass, and stared at the strip of light that came from under the bathroom door. He couldn’t see her shadow, and although he shouldn’t care how she was feeling right now, a part of him did hate that she was afraid that he’d hurt her. Of course it was the smart reaction for her to have, because he was a cold-blooded killer and had no remorse over the individuals that he took out as part of the job. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have feelings, and having taken her away from the only home she had known, and the fact she had no family, had a part of him feeling like a bastard.
The feeling of his cell vibrating in his pocket had him taking it out and looking at the number that flashed across the screen. He was using a burner phone, and although he didn’t have any numbers programmed in it, he always recognized Tricks’s number. Turning away from the bathroom door and moving into the other bedroom, Ryker leaned against the doorframe.
“Yeah?” he said low.
“You handle it?” Tricks said, and the scratchy, deep voice of the man that he worked for came through the receiver.
“You really need to confirm that?” Ryker said, knowing that Tricks was wasted by the fact he called him only hours after he had ordered the hit, and that he was slurring his words. The sound of music and women giggling came through, and Ryker scrubbed his hand over his face. When Tricks was in a mood then a lot of people died. He was a bad, evil bastard, but then again Ryker wasn’t an honorable man in the least. But when Tricks decided to get trashed, he was different, becoming a man that didn’t care about formalities, was sloppy in his actions, and even more unstable than his crazy ass usually was.
The sound of Tricks exhaling told Ryker than he was getting high. The combination of a psycho and drugs didn’t bode well, but as long as Tricks kept himself away from the cabin and the girl, Ryker wouldn’t have do worry about the consequences of what he had done.
“I know you got it completed, because you’re the best fucking man I have working for me,” Tricks said, and the sound of a female moan came through. Ryker gritted his teeth and turned away from the bathroom door, and stepped further into the darkened room. He didn’t want to talk to Tricks right now. Didn’t want to talk to anyone for that matter.
“It’s taken care of,” he told Tricks again. “If you need anything else before the next hit then give me a call.” Not that Ryker couldn’t talk about this now on the burner phone, but he wasn’t about to get into this shit with Fiona in the next room. She was already scared, and as much as he was a motherfucker and killed for a living, he didn’t want her hearing his personal business.
“We need to talk, Ryker,” Tricks said slowly.
He needed to figure out what he was going to do with the girl, and he needed to do it quickly. Shooting her back in that apartment would have been smart, but there was something about her that had made him think twice.
“I have another job for you already, and I need it done righ
t away.”
Ryker was silent for a second.
“I’ll double your fee, but I need it done in the next seventy-two hours while the prick is still in the Sates.”
Ryker heard something clicking behind him, and turned. The sight of the door open, but no sign of Fiona had him cursing. “Yeah, we’ll talk.” He hung up and moved toward the front door. It was partially open, and he could see her running in the moonlight. Well, he had to give her credit for not pulling his dick and making him wait to see if she’d try to take off. But she was stupid for running, and he’d have to teach her a lesson that he was not a man she should be fucking with.
He took off after her, knowing that she couldn’t get far since she was shoeless, didn’t know her way around the property, and that it was dark. She looked over her shoulder at him, screamed and ran faster. But she tripped over a fallen tree stump, fell on her hands and knees, and then started scrambling forward. Ryker moved quicker, grew pissed with each step he took, and didn’t know if he could keep his control once he had her. And there was no doubt that he’d catch her, and then he’d make her sorry she ever ran from him.
Ryker was in front of her seconds later, and had his hand wrapped around her throat. He lifted her up, made sure he wasn’t suffocating her but that she knew he was enraged by her actions, and pressed her back against a tree trunk. For a moment he just stared at her, feeling this strange kind of angry arousal move through him the longer he stared at her. She had her hands wrapped digging at his fingers, which were tightened around her throat, and the big tears that fell down her cheeks turned him on even more. He didn’t know what was happening with him, but he couldn’t stop it, and felt himself moved closer to her. His dick hardened, and this misplaced desire for her slammed into him hard.
Very Bad Things Page 2