It smelled like carbolic soap and bleach, my nostrils twitching as I closed the door behind me. At the far end lay the long, liquid filled chamber that stretched out across the floor like a robotic sarcophagus. I looked over the front of the door as I sipped on my coffee and saw the pale face staring back at me. She was ready and the wide static scream her face was twisted into told me she'd had enough of her single celled prison.
Her eyes met mine, wide and irritated by the chemicals in the water. Tubes were traveling out her nose and mouth, aiding her to breathe underwater and needle sat sunk into each arm. Her hair was floating upward like a crimson crown.
"It's okay Roberta," I said as I tapped the glass. "It won't be long until you're out of here."
Moving over to the counter, I placed down my coffee and rummaged through the pile of papers. There were drawings of symbols, anatomical sketches and an assorted collection of Polaroids that I always meant to discard.
Underneath it all, was what I was looking for, the stencil of the spiral that would look so perfect and delicate above Roberta's ankle.
Opening the top drawer, I pulled out the tattoo gun that I had obtained online along with the small pot of red ink.
"Ready?" I asked as the gun buzzed into action.
From deep within the tank, a muffled scream could faintly be heard.
I walked over and turned the dial, water spilling out onto the floor as it opened.
Jewels in the Night
Jewels And Panties Series
Book Two
Brooke Kinsley
© 2017 All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
"Erotica is literature designed to be read with one hand.."-Brooke Kinsley
Description
Ruby, Saphir, Emerald, Diamond…
Doggie, Reverse Cowgirl, Missionary, Pinball Wizard…
ETTA
When it felt as though my life was torn apart, he was there for me and I’m falling for him fast. The only problem is this house he’s put me in. Full of girls with secret pasts and run by an old woman who’s more mysterious than the Bermuda Triangle, I don’t know what’s going on from one minute to the next.
But with Lincoln by my side I don’t have time to dwell on the gossip that surrounds Waters House as he whips me up in a whirlwind of bliss and excitement. The only problem is not everyone in the house approves of us. Especially the wild teenager, Jet who’s harboring secrets of her own, ones that could kill her along with the other poor girls who washed up on the beach.
LINCOLN
She’s too perfect, too good for me and she doesn’t even know it and her body drives me wild! I made the biggest mistake of my life letting her stay in that house and I’m hellbent on getting her outta there. But I can’t hide my secret life from her forever. With my own past filled with sinister tragedies, it won’t be long until I can’t hold back anymore and confess everything. If only that bitch, Jet would stay outta my way. If only I didn’t need her for my plan.
With more girls washing up on the beach with my signature spiral tattoo, it won’t be long until Detective Berger is led straight to my door. If only people could see that I’m not evil and that what I’m doing is for the good of the city. I’m not a maniac like all the other serial killers. I’m a vigilante, a good guy, someone who’s just trying to send a message to save our children.
Chapter One
Etta
Phaedra gave me a cheeky smile as I reached the bottom of the stairs. She was in the lounge with the morning paper spread across her lap and a mug of coffee in her cupped hands. The steam was drifting up to her horn-rimmed glasses creating specks of condensation.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
There was something about the tone of her voice, a mocking vibrato that hinted she knew what I’d been up to.
“Great!” I beamed. “Thank you for having me. I really appreciate you letting me stay until I get things sorted out.”
As I moved to sit beside her, the pain returned to my neck and I winced.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “Still recovering from the crash obviously.”
There was a cunning look in her eyes as though she was privy to a delicious secret.
“I heard about that. Didn’t Bosworth find you just after the crash?”
The twinkle in her eyes told me she knew he did.
“It was such a coincidence,” I said. “Not everyone is so lucky to crash in front of a world renowned doctor.”
“And he really is so renowned,” she retorted without skipping a beat. “It’s such an honor to have him here and do you know he refuses to let us pay him.”
He was too good to be true, so humble and kind. It was as though I was placed in the path of an angel when my life was falling apart and he was too happy to pick up the pieces along with my spirit.
“We’re all lucky to know him,” I said. “God doesn’t make many men like him anymore.”
She set her coffee down and folded her paper.
“So you believe in God?” she asked, although it sounded more like an exclamation.
Feeling pressured into saying something, I nodded and hummed.
“Hmmm... Well I believe in something anyway. Do you?”
Her eyes glazed over as she looked out the window. A car pulled up outside, its tires crackling on the graveled driveway.
“Hmm?” she looked up as though she’d drifted away for a moment. “Do I believe in God?”
With her knotted, arthritic fingers, she dug down deep into the front of her dress and pulled out an emerald encrusted crucifix.
“I do more than believe in God, I know as a verifiable fact that he believes in me.”
Taken aback, I was desperate to know how she arrived at this conclusion but before I could speak, there were footsteps bounding down the stairs. A moment later, the door flung open to reveal a young girl with a skeletal frame enshrouded in black clothing. Her chipped, red fingernails topped her pale fingers like drops of blood in the snow.
“Oh hello, Jet.”
Phaedra smiled at her like a grandmother and pulled off her glasses. She opened her arms to greet the girl with a hug but she remained in the doorway with her eyes wide and staring.
“Have you seen Roberta?” Jet asked, her voice pained and sharp like broken glass.
Phaedra looked the girl up and down with her lips twisted to the side in thought.
“Hmmm… Let me think. The last time I saw her was with Dr. Bosworth yesterday. I think she wanted to talk to him about some…” she leaned forward and whispered, “Some feminine matter because she insisted on speaking to him in private.”
“Huh… weird,” Jet replied with a jolt of her head.
The young girl rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve and frowned before looking over at the bookshelf. For a moment, her eyes fixed on something and she froze for a second before continuing.
“Did she mention anything about what she wanted to see Bosworth about?”
Phaedra shrugged and raised her palms to the ceiling.
“You know what she’s like. She never did like to talk to me anyway, always a private girl.”
Jet gave me a sideways glance, a quick flick of her eyes that showed she was suspicious of my presence.
“I saw Roberta last night,” I chimed in. “On the fire escape. When I got in last night just before curfew, she was having a smoke.”
Jet’s frown intensified.
“Was she alone?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Was she on the phone?”
“I don’t think so.”
I was starting to get the impression this girl was more worried than she was letting on. Phaedra’s eyes met mine and we shared a look of concern.
“Has something happened?” the old woman asked as she crossed her legs and tapped the arm of her glasses to her bottom lip.
“I don’t know,” Jet replied. “Has something happened?”
Suddenly I felt as though I was in the middle of something I didn’t understand. The room was tense with a clear unspoken hatred between the young girl and Phaedra. I was about to make my excuses and leave when the doorbell rang. Phaedra sprung to life and jumped up with the energy of someone twenty years younger. Rushing to the door, she opened it with her usual smile.
“Hello there Lincoln! How are you today?”
He looked over her shoulder and saw me in the hallway, an unstoppable smile forming on his lips. Phaedra glanced between us before giving us a disapproving look and ushering him inside.
“Doc!” Jet hurried to his side before I could say hello. “I was just talking to the old girl about Roberta. You saw her yesterday, didn’t you?”
Lincoln took a step back and placed down his briefcase. Obviously feeling hounded by the three of us, he started to back away down the hall.
“Yeah… I saw her yesterday.”
“What about?” Jet pressed.
“I’m not really supposed to say,” he replied with his body facing her but with his eyes on me.
He smiled again and my heart quickened. I wanted to be alone with him, to feel his arms around me and the softness of his lips.
“You’re not supposed to say but can’t you just tell me this one time?” Jet wasn’t giving up easily and she followed him down the hall until the four of us arrived in the kitchen, each one of us vying for his attention.
He blinked like a trapped rabbit and wiped a hand down his face.
“Well, no. I’m sorry but I can’t tell you.”
“Jet! What is this about?” Phaedra interrupted and took the young girl by the arm.
“Nothing!” she yanked herself away from the old woman.
“Look,” Lincoln tried to placate everyone’s worries. “All I can tell you is that she wanted some advice on…” he fumbled for the right words as he looked into Phaedra’s stern face. “She wanted birth control advice but I can’t tell you anymore.”
Jet, somewhat placated by this information, nodded gratefully.
“Is there something wrong?” Lincoln asked.
With her face pulled tight as though she was on the cusp of crying, Jet clutched her brittle hair with her bony fingers.
“She’s not here,” she said. “She told me she’d meet me this morning but when I went into her room it was empty. Her bed wasn’t slept in either.”
Phaedra placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and began leading her back to the lounge while giving us an apologetic look and a weak smile.
“Let’s get you some strong tea,” she said. “I’m sure she’s okay. Probably visiting a friend.”
Lincoln and I waited until the two of them were out of earshot before rushing to embrace each other.
“That was some welcome,” he laughed.
“Is this place always so dramatic?” I asked.
“Just on the days ending with y.”
Chapter Two
Lincoln
I’d been waiting all night to see her again, to hold her, smell her, kiss her, but as I lowered my mouth to hers, Phaedra appeared in the doorway and we reeled back. She looked from Etta to me and back again before knotting her fingers together.
“Sorry about that doctor-“
“Please, it’s Lincoln.”
She waved a hand dismissively.
“Either way, I am so dreadfully sorry. The girls here… they’re prone to bouts of drama from time to time.”
Etta watched her through narrowed eyes as though she didn’t quite believe her.
“Are you quite sure you saw Roberta last night?” Phaedra asked her.
There was a darkness in my stomach. I didn’t want to talk about that redhead anymore. I’d had my fun with her.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Etta replied.
“I didn’t realize you knew her,” I interjected, worried.
“Well I only met her once,” Etta explained.
I looked into her eyes saw she was hiding nothing.
“Anyway, I’m sure she’ll be here by tonight,” I said and clapped my hands together. “Phaedra, would you like to show me through to the lounge. I’m sure some of the girls are waiting.”
“Actually,” she sighed. “We seem to have an empty house this morning. Most the girls left first thing in the morning.”
“Really?” I laughed. “That’s a first.”
“Maybe they smelled you coming,” Etta giggled and elbowed me in the ribs.
“Maybe they did…”
~
The diner was situated by the docks in an area that had seen better days, or so I’d heard. The dark clouds lay low and swollen across the horizon bringing back memories of reading Dickens as a child and imagining the thick pea soup fog that enshrouded Victorian London.
Across the road, resting back on a fire hydrant, a hobo with a creased face raised his head to the sky with his eyes closed. His foot twitched as though it was somehow independent of his body as his lips spread into a toothless grin. A young boy carrying a skateboard beneath his arm walked by and tossed him a dime. A second later, the old man noticed it and clutched it between his blackened fingers, touching the surface of the coin with his eyes still closed. It was then that I realized he was blind.
“Are you okay?” Etta asked.
She was mopping up the last of her syrup with her pancake, her cheeks chubby and stuffed. Bopping her on the end of the nose, I smiled and resumed eating.
“I’m fine,” I replied while chewing. “And you’re adorable.”
Adorable. I’d never called a woman that before in my life. A baby, yes. A puppy, of course. But a woman? What was coming over me?
“Adorable?” she chuckled with a dot of syrup on her lower lip.
I wanted to leap across the table and lick it off before pouncing on her, devouring there in front of all the surly, early morning patrons.
“Sure, you’re adorable. You’ve never been told that before?”
She shrugged, embarrassed and sipped her coffee. Something brushed my knee and I glanced beneath the table to see her hand caress me.
“Shhh…” she said. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I tried to keep my composure. Even tried to direct the conversation to the poor guy outside.
“Hey, isn’t it tragic seeing people so vulnerable out on the street,” I said and pointed outside with my fork, but her gaze was unwavering, her hand moving higher.
By the time her hand reached my cock it was harder than it had ever been. Dabbing my napkin to my face, I tried to look as normal as possible but found myself squirming beneath her touch.
You're such a tease, I thought but was too afraid to say out loud in case someone heard.
I put in an appearance here every week and did my good guy routine, the last thing I needed was for the locals to think of me as a sexual deviant.
"More coffee?"
Looking up at the waitress, Sandra, a mother of five who I'd known since I began working at Broadwood, held a coffee pot in her hand and smiled, a smudge of lipstick on her teeth and a dot of eyeliner on her upper lid.
"Erm..."
As I moved to speak, Etta's grasp on me tightened and I let out a yelp.
"Ah! Yes! More coffee would be terrific!" I tried to correct myself but Sandra gave me a wary look as though she thought I was going mad.
"So doc, you must know everything about the girls over at that house," she said as she perched on the edge of th
e table.
Sensing the conversation was taking a dark turn, Etta pulled away and gazed out the window at the blind man who was now sleeping with his head beside a murky puddle.
"Well, I don't know everything. Actually I don't know much at all. Nobody does."
Sandra sighed and ran a finger around a strand of her bleached blonde hair.
"Terrible. Just terrible. Nobody understands any of it."
All I could do was shake my head.
"And are you over at Waters?" she asked Etta.
"Just for a little while," she replied. "Maybe a few days."
"Well you better sleep with one eye open. The things I've heard about in that house."
She slid off the table and patted me on the back.
"You come back soon," she said. "It's nice having some class in here for a change."
"I always come back here when there's such impeccable service. Send my love to the boys for me."
"I will."
She blew me a kiss and disappeared behind the counter.
Turning back to Etta, I saw she had a scared look on her face.
"What?"
"She said she heard things..."
I took a sip of the bitter, burned coffee and massaged my brow.
"People just like to say stuff like that, you know, to gossip. Probably doesn't mean anything. Anyway, a house of runaway teens and ladies of the night is always going to start rumors."
"And it doesn't help that some of them have turned up murdered."
"That won't help things," I said, my eyes focused on a young girl walking by.
Etta caught me staring and frowned.
"Sorry, she looks familiar," I said.
Jewels And Panties: (Book 1-15) Billionaire Romance Series Page 6