by JD Nixon
“How thoughtful of you,” I said, emotionless.
“I stole them from another patient, of course.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to waste any money on me.”
“I might, Tessie,” he replied, pretending to be hurt by my words. “But unfortunately, I’m totally skint. Being on the run is exciting, but I’m forced to depend on other people to support me. And Sharnee’s real angry with me at the moment, so she’s cut off my money supply.” His face twisted in sudden rage. “Fucking bitch! She’ll pay for that later.”
“Why is she angry with you?” I asked, curious despite my current ominous situation.
“She found out from her mother that Chantelle is about to have another one of my kids.” Made sense – Chantelle, Jake’s wife, already had one kid with Red and the last time I’d seen her she’d looked pregnant again. “Chantelle forgot to tell her.”
It was surreal standing there with him, facing off, having a conversation about his complicated and promiscuous private life.
“You could have told Sharnee yourself.”
“It’s not my business if bitches get knocked up. They should be more careful,” he dismissed. “Just like I won’t care if you get knocked up either.” He considered me for a beat, his snake-like yellow eyes contemplative, before laughing aggressively. “Although I love the idea of you having my kid. A little Bycraft growing up in the Fuller family. How fucking funny would that be? The little shit would remind you of me forever.”
“I’d never have a kid by you,” I spat out, then shrugged with feigned indifference. “Anyway, I won’t be alive after you’ve finished with me, so it’s not going to be an issue.”
He pulled a sad face. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Tessie. We could be good friends. Close friends. We could even have a relationship.” He sniggered at his own joke.
“Over my dead body.”
“Probably,” he agreed regretfully.
“How did you manage to get in here?” I was trying to keep him talking for as long as possible, either hoping to distract him so I could find an opportunity to attack him. Or even better, maybe one of my colleagues would poke their head in the room to check on me in the meantime.
He laughed again, pleased with himself. “I knew I’d shot you, so I’ve been watching the hospital all afternoon. Saw Jakey leave and guessed he was off to work. Saw that bitch top cop and that walking mountain come and go. Then I saw that stupid cop boyfriend of yours leaving as well and knew my chance had come. God, it was too easy. I waited until that ugly chick who’s supposed to be guarding you went to get something to eat and approached the young one, all matey with him. I gave him a coffee and he nearly wet himself with gratitude. After that, he barely glanced at my ID before letting me in.”
“You forged Jake’s driver’s licence?”
“When I first went on the run I stuck my photo on a colour copy of Jakey’s licence and laminated it myself. I thought it might come in handy one day to pretend to be him. And it sure has, because here we are together again.” He patted the bed next to him. “Come and sit over here with me, lovely.”
“No thanks. I’m fine over here.”
“I wasn’t really asking, Tessie. I was telling you.” He patted the bed again. “I want to play with you a little.”
“I don’t want to be played with.”
“You don’t have a choice. It’s come over here or I’ll shoot you. You decide.”
Was it better for me to go over to him or for him to come to me? Deciding that there were more possible weapons to work with around the bed, I slowly walked over and sat down as far away from him as possible, making sure I sat on the side that obscured my knife from his view and hopefully his memory.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smiled and scooted over closer to me. “Not like this, which is very hard.” He snatched up my hand and forced it on to his crotch. I recoiled immediately, pulling my hand back and slapping him across his face.
He slapped me back twice as hard and took a handful of my hair, yanking on it viciously, making me gasp in pain, my cheek stinging.
“Play nicely,” he cautioned. He held me by the hair and moved forward, looking down searchingly into my eyes. “Jakey’s always saying you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. And you know what, he’s right. You’re the most beautiful bitch I’ve ever met too. God knows I’ve fucked a lot of whores in my life, but never one as hot as you.”
“I’m not a whore,” I insisted, trying to move away from him. He jerked on my hair harder and laughed.
“I know you’re not. But I’m going to turn you into one, lovely. I’m going to fuck you everywhere. And you’re going to love it. You’re going to beg me for more.”
He kissed my neck and I tried hard not to flinch at his touch, forcing myself to relax, to centre, to think of what I would do next. I made myself become tender, gentle, feminine, even as I decided that I was going to kill him the first chance I had.
“You smell so good and your skin’s so soft. I don’t want to bruise it,” he murmured, his face nuzzling my neck.
“You don’t have to, Red. Not if I play nicely,” I whispered. He looked up at me, suspicious. I licked my dry lips. His eyes were entranced by the motion. “I don’t want to die. Please. I have Dad to think about. He needs me.” I knew he wouldn’t believe any other excuse for me playing along with him.
He stared into my eyes, his eyebrows knitting faintly. “But I need you too.” He leaned down to kiss my neck again, his lips trailing across my throat, not able to suppress a low groan of some intense emotion. Lust? “God, Tessie, I can’t stop thinking about you, burning for you. Day and night. Night and day. All the fucking time. You’re driving me insane.” His lips gently grazed my collarbone.
I compliantly moved my neck to allow him better access, all the while battling the waves of repulsion swamping me at his touch.
“It’s been like this ever since you and Jakey got together. I never thought you’d ever fuck a Bycraft, and now that’s all I can think about.” A series of kisses across my collarbone and back up my neck tickled my skin. “Jakey’s been a pussy chaser since he grew pubes, but I swear that the man hasn’t even sniffed at another pussy since he’s tasted yours. You have to be something special if you’ve kept Jakey happy for so long. I want some of that. No, fuck it! I want all of that.”
He slipped his arms around me and pulled me up tight against him, crushing me, hurting my injured arm. I bit my bottom lip so that I wouldn’t cry out. He continued speaking in a low voice, his breath warm on my ear.
“I figure the only way to get you out of my head is to fuck you, over and over, whatever it takes – ten times, a hundred times, a million times. Until I don’t want you anymore. Until I’m sick of you, bored of you. And then I’ll kill you and that will be that. I’ll be free of you forever. And I can live again without you always in my mind. Even if I end up in jail for the rest of my life, I won’t care because I’ll finally be free of you.”
For obvious reasons, I wasn’t happy about any part of that plan except the Red-in-jail ending. “Please don’t kill me.”
“You’ll have to do everything I want.”
“I will. I promise.” I made my eyes as big and innocent as I could. “If you let me live. Please. For my father.” I hoped I wasn’t laying it on too thick.
“Everything I want, Tessie.”
“I promise.”
“That’s what all the other whores said too, until it started to hurt. Then they struggled and screamed. That made me angry and I had to hurt them some more.”
“I’m tougher than them.” I kept up constant, intense eye contact with him and even dared to reach up my hand to stroke his neck. I made sure I stroked the side that had the scar I’d given him, so as my fingers ran over his jagged skin, I reminded myself that I was a survivor.
“Tessie,” he growled, his breathing growing heavier. Something in my favour – he genuinely desired me. “I’ve dre
amed forever of you being nice to me.”
“You’ve never asked me to be nice to you before, Red. You’ve always been so rough and violent.”
He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, surprisingly gentle. I responded and even met his tongue with my own when he pushed it into my mouth. His tight grip on me loosened and became more caressing. He pulled away and gazed at me again, his eyes softer and pupils wide with longing.
“Was that playing nicely enough?” I whispered, eyes locked on his, a submissive hint in my voice.
“Oh God, yes. It’s a good start,” he whispered back, inhaling raggedly.
He kissed me again, pushing me backwards on the bed, moving on top of me and pressing his lips down on mine. One of his hands was still tangled in my hair, the other slid under my pyjama top to fondle my breast. But as he was still clutching the gun, it was an awkward movement. I had to make him forget himself enough to put the gun down, so I wrapped my arms around his neck, arching myself closer up against him.
When he disengaged again, I said breathlessly, “Red, you can’t ever tell Jakey about this. Please. He would be so angry. Not just with me, but with you too.”
That little touch made him relax. He loved Jake and knew that I did too, but couldn’t help liking the thought of getting one up on his perfect brother. And if that meant sleeping with his girlfriend, then all to Red’s benefit. After all, he’d slept with all his other brothers’ girlfriends.
“Go lock the door, Tessie. We have business together tonight and then you’re going to leave here with me.”
“Are you going to kill me, Red?” I wasn’t quite faking the crack in my voice as I asked.
“I haven’t decided yet. It depends on how much you satisfy me. I might keep you with me forever.”
“Yes, Red,” I said obediently and padded over to the door, pretending to lock it, but actually double-clicking to lock and then unlock it again. I thought about opening the door and running, but he sat on the bed, his gun trained on me the entire time and I couldn’t be sure I’d be fast enough to avoid being killed. I returned to the bed, standing in front of him as he sat on the edge. He pulled me in close so I was standing between his legs, his little gun pointing at my chest.
“Take your clothes off,” he ordered, his voice husky with desire. “I’m going around the world with you tonight, lovely. Starting and ending with your mouth. I want to build up a nice load for you to swallow.” His free hand fumbled for the zip on his jeans. “Get on your knees. You need to have your first taste of me.”
“Yes, Red.” I reached my arms down as if I was about to grab the bottom edge of my pyjama top to pull it over my head, but instead I pulled out my knife. In a quick, smooth movement, I struck his arm upwards forcing the gun to go flying out of his grasp on to the floor where it clattered loudly, and slashed out at him with my knife, cutting him lightly on his upper left arm.
“Help!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “He has a gun!”
There was no response from the outside cops.
“Bitch! I knew I shouldn’t trust you,” he screamed, rolling over the bed to retrieve the gun. I skidded around the bed in my socks, scrambling to reach it first.
“Help! I need some help!” I yelled again.
Still no response. What the hell were they doing out there?
We lunged for the gun at the same time. I pushed him away with my palm in his face, stretching my left hand towards the gun. Just as my fingertips touched it, he kicked it over near the door, out of both our reach. I gripped his upper arms to stop him heading for it, but my socks were slippery on the floor. He clutched my arms and bulldozed me, his face set with naked anger, driving me backwards against my will.
I hooked my foot around his ankle and he stumbled, losing his footing and falling backwards, still holding my arms. We fell together and hit the floor hard. The impact bumped my knife out of my hand and it skittered away from me. I dove towards my knife while he headed for his gun. I snatched up the knife and clambered after him on my hands and knees, whimpering with the agonising jolts shooting down my injured arm. I grasped him around the ankle and leapt up on to his back to bring him down.
He rolled us both over, forcing me on to my back and lying on top of me. He gripped my wrist and squeezed viciously, trying to make me drop my knife. It waved dangerously around in the air as we each struggled for control of it, staring at each other in bitter fury. There was no sound in the room except our grunts of exertion.
He slowly overpowered me, driving the knife down to my chest, his face contorted with focused hatred, his arms unrelentingly strong. An abrupt jab from him thrust the knife perilously close to my chest and I raised my left arm protectively. The knife slid into the soft, pale flesh underneath my forearm. It was a hunting knife, made for killing, with a wicked edge on it. I couldn’t contain my shout of agony as pain flooded my senses. Instinctively, I jerked my arm backwards, freeing it from the knife. Blood spurted out instantly, dripping over the both of us. I tried to push him off me and scrabble to my feet.
Red shoved me back to the floor with his fist in my chest. I couldn’t let that happen, because he’d go into a frenzy with the knife if he succeeded in immobilising me. Eyes burning with tears of pain and motivated by white hot fury, I jerked forward to sink my teeth hard into his wrist.
He shouted out, momentarily releasing his tight grip on the knife. I snatched it from him and stabbed at him recklessly, not caring if I injured him, not caring if I killed him. He dodged left, then right, pushing himself backwards off me. Losing his advantage, he twisted around to crawl towards the gun again. Without any hesitation or remorse, I sprang up to stab my knife deep into the back of his retreating thigh.
It was his turn to scream in pain, kicking out at me as I pulled my knife out of his leg.
“You bitch! That fucking hurts!” Red yelped, clutching the back of his leg where blood gushed out, instantly staining his jeans purple. He reached for his gun. I leapt to my feet and sprinted to the bed, vaulting over it to shelter behind, my teeth clenched and face scrunched in pain. He shot off a bullet at me, missing wildly, a bullet hole in the window a memento of his visit. He decided to cut his losses, limping heavily to the door. He cursed when he realised I hadn’t locked it after all, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
I can only imagine the faces of the two cops when he flung open the door and staggered out, wielding his gun. All I know is that they didn’t move as he made his escape, hobbling as fast as he could manage down the hallway, blood pouring from the back of his leg.
“Chase him!” I shouted at them, racing over to the door. The first thing I noticed was that they both had their ears plugged with headphones, listening to music. The second was that they wore identical stunned expressions.
I clamped my hand over the knife wound on my arm, wincing with the pain. Blood pumped out at an alarming rate. “He’s getting away! What the hell are you two doing?”
I didn’t wait for a response, but ran after Red myself. He terrified everybody he came across, screams echoing down the hall. Most members of the public were usually only confronted with bleeding armed men on television, not when they were visiting poor old Aunt Betty in hospital after her hip operation.
“He’s a dangerous fugitive! Move away from him! Stay where you are! Don’t approach him,” I warned people in my loud cop voice as I chased after him. Turning around, he noticed me and sped up.
“Red Bycraft! Stop! You’re under arrest!”
He ignored me and turned the corner at the end of the hallway. I ran after him, sprinting so fast that I skidded on the polished vinyl floor as I also took the corner, sliding to the ground inelegantly, all arms and legs. Red spun around and shot at me, the bullet whizzing over my head. And if it hadn’t been for my slippery bed socks, it would have impacted into my abdomen. I scrambled to my feet and resumed the chase.
He reached the main foyer where greater numbers of people milled around, innocently going about their business.
The sight of a bleeding, desperate man on the loose with a gun being chased by a bleeding, angry woman in pyjamas with a knife understandably caused a scene. People panicked, screaming and running wildly. A couple of hefty men in the vicinity made moves to intercept Red but I showed them my bloodied palm and yelled at them to leave him be.
Red shot off another bullet at one disobedient, over-muscled vigilante who continued to approach him. Fortunately Red missed, hitting a water cooler instead. Its plastic exploded and fresh spring water flooded the foyer’s industrial carpet. And that Hollywood-worthy special effect had the big, brave vigilante diving to the ground, calling for his mother.
Another bright spark caught only the end of the chase and jumped to the conclusion that it was me causing the panic. Without any warning, he tackled me to the ground, cruelly knocking the air from my body. He sat on me, braying proudly to one and all that he was making a citizen’s arrest. At the sliding front door to the hospital, Red turned to check on me. And despite his own critical situation, he laughed when he saw my predicament, giving me a mocking salute before limping quickly into the night.
“No!” I howled in frustration, wriggling underneath the man, trying to push him off. “Get off me! I’m a police officer. You’re helping a fugitive escape, you moron.”
Sarah and Jack jogged up slowly, sheepish expressions on their faces. I didn’t waste my breath berating them. They were going to have to face the Super. And the Sarge. They didn’t need me pouring it on top.
They, at least, managed to convince my eager citizen that I really was a cop and one who was in urgent need of some medical attention. My pyjamas were smeared with blood and it continued to pump out of my arm from both wounds. I stood up too quickly and faintness washed over me.
“Someone call the Sarge,” I said, before the darkness enveloped me again.
Chapter 6
When I managed to prise my eyes open again, I felt as if I’d been hit by an express train. It was daylight, but instead of the peace and calmness I craved, I found myself in the middle of a quiet, but heated, argument.