ON The Run (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 6) (Redemption Thriller Series 18)

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ON The Run (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 6) (Redemption Thriller Series 18) Page 13

by John W. Mefford


  “Sure do,” she said. “I just got out of grad school, so that was one of my main staples.”

  “Cool.”

  A moment later, she came around the corner with a glass of Diet Coke on ice. She handed it to me and then clinked my glass with her own.

  “Salud,” she said, and we both took a sip.

  The drink gave me an instant jolt of energy. “Thanks. So, where’s Sam?”

  “Oh, he’s probably hanging out in my bedroom. He loves to burrow in the pillows. I think he’s part rabbit.”

  There was a bit of uncomfortable silence as we stood there, sipping our drinks. I glanced around the room, trying to think of something to say. I could feel her eyes on me. I looked at her. At first she smiled, but after a few seconds, she lost her smile. Her eyes trolled my body.

  “Don’t we need to feed Sam, so we can hit the road?” I tipped my head back and drained my Diet Coke, then I let out an “ah.”

  She took my glass at almost the same time I reached a hand over to the couch to balance myself. She stepped back but didn’t say a word.

  “Melissa, what are you doing?” Am I slurring my words?

  She didn’t respond.

  My hand slipped off the couch—I didn’t realize how much I’d been leaning on it. My knees wobbled, and I fell to the floor. I was on all fours. I looked up at her. “Where’s Sam?”

  “Say goodnight, David.”

  26

  I drifted in and out of consciousness for a period of time. Twenty minutes? Two hours? I had no idea. I only knew I had very little control of my body. She’d stripped me of all my clothes, put a dog collar on me, and handcuffed me to her bedpost. My mind wasn’t just in a haze; it was drowning in sludge. A numbness invaded every limb, including my tongue, which felt like it had tripled in size. As I became more lucid, I could smell something burning. Candles maybe? Or something else? Every sense was dulled.

  “Can I get you a drink of water?”

  I blinked a couple of times and looked to the doorway. There was a glow from the hallway as she slinked into the bedroom. I saw lots of flesh in all the wrong places, a few swaths of black leather, and shiny metal. I didn’t respond to her question. I wasn’t sure my tongue would work properly, and my mind was still processing what had happened…what I was seeing.

  “David, David, David.” She reached the bed and tugged on one of the handcuffs. Then she dragged her bare breasts across my face.

  In her mind, she was probably thinking she was giving me the ultimate fantasy. But all I could think about was Nicole and the special, intimate times we’d shared in bed and in countless other places. In the back yard of our old home, in the kitchen of our new home…the home that represented our new beginning. Our family.

  The family that would never be.

  Tears pooled in my eyes as I fought to regain control of my mental faculties.

  She pulled back and looked at me. Then she patted my cheek. “I know it might be a little difficult to speak, so I’ll get you some water.” She began to leave but suddenly stopped and smacked my inner thigh. My whole body flinched.

  She looked down at my groin. “Tsk, tsk. We’re going to have to do something to get your blood moving. I have a couple of ideas. Maybe some feathers or nipple clamps, or even a bug zapper electric current paddle.” She smiled, but it wasn’t like the smile I’d seen earlier. This one was crooked, as if she had a screw loose.

  She cackled, cocked her head back, and sauntered off.

  I squeezed my eyes, clenched my jaw, trying to will myself to regain my focus. I had no idea how long she’d keep me handcuffed, ready to service her at whatever she had planned whenever she pleased.

  Dammit, I’d been so desperate to escape the cops and Guido, I hadn’t seen the signs of her being a psycho. Well, dumbass, she did grab your crotch as though she were testing the ripeness of a cantaloupe. What about the whole thing didn’t scream “psycho”?

  I could hate myself and my decision-making ability later. Right now, I had to get out of Melissa’s sex dungeon. I knew that law enforcement would be closing in on me. If they picked me up before I found Nicole’s killer, I’m not sure how I’d respond. Me not being able to see Mackenzie, she not having her father…it was almost too much for me to fathom. I would fall in such despair, I could hardly imagine it.

  My little girl. My sweet pea.

  Think, Ozzie. Push the emotions aside and figure out how to get yourself unlocked from these handcuffs.

  “Okay, darling, I’ve brought you something better than water,” Melissa sang as she entered the room. I noticed her hair was one big frizz ball, as if she’d put her finger in an electrical socket. Probably part of this act. I thought back to my initial impression of her in the car. She appeared as though she’d been crying, plus I’d seen the used tissues inside her car.

  She brought a straw up to my lips.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Oh, you can talk. Goodie, goodie. This should make it extra fun.” She pulled the drink back, her face serious. “Unless you start yelling. If you do that, I’ll have to stuff a sock in your mouth.”

  “I’m cool. Just wondering if you’re going to drug me again.”

  “Now why would I do that, silly? I’m looking for a performer, not someone who wants to limp around and do nothing. Get it? Limp around?” She laughed again, but it was that sickening cackle, the kind that gives you goosebumps.

  “You’re a riot, Melissa. I’m thirsty, though.”

  She put the straw to my lips, and I took a pull. “That’s more Diet Coke.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” she said, hand at her waist, which had some type of leather straps attached above and below it. I saw body parts, but my erogenous zone was on planet Mars. I had business to take care of—to escape and find Harvey Reese.

  “You know you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.” I looked up and gently tugged my wrists.

  “Well, with some guys, you just never know. I need a sure thing, if you know what I mean.”

  Not really, but at least she was talking. “My ex-girlfriend always said I was a sure thing.”

  She nodded, but she’d lost her smile. “You’re bragging. That’s just like Sam. He used to brag all of the time.”

  “So, Sam isn’t your cat?”

  “No, silly. I figured you knew that by now.”

  “I wasn’t sure. It’s just that…”

  “What?”

  “Well, I can tell you’ve been hurt. And I’ve been hurt too. Sex or no sex, it’s just nice to talk to someone who’s been in the same position.”

  Her eyes found the floor for a quick second. “Sam cheated on me. With my best friends.”

  “Friends?”

  “Both of them…at the same time.”

  “I’m really sorry, Melissa. This is really strange, though, because my ex…she cheated on me with my best friend. But just one guy.”

  I smiled, and she smiled back.

  Progress.

  She set the cup on the table and then sat on the bed and began rubbing her hands across my chest. “It is kind of cool that we share the same history. Maybe it’s fate that we met the way we did.”

  “Maybe.”

  She took in a full breath and eyed me for a few seconds. If we were talking over coffee at a Starbuck’s—and if I were telling the truth—this might be a decent conversation. But this was no coffeehouse. When Melissa conceived this scheme, she had only one type of grinding on her mind.

  She grabbed my nipple and twisted it.

  “Ow!” I said, squirming.

  She winked. “Fate or not, it’s still all about the sex, David. Or should I call you by your real name?”

  My breath clicked. “Real name?”

  “I searched your backpack. I found your…library card. Looks like you’ve dyed your hair since you took the picture, although your whiskers are starting to turn back to your natural blond. I can tell when a person is hiding their identity. I’ve used a couple of guys
like you before. Best ride I ever had was a guy who drove a Harley. Get it? Riding a Harley?”

  She loved her sexual puns, but I was more focused on the fact that she’d connected a couple of dots of my life. That was fine, as long as she didn’t talk to authorities.

  “Kiss me,” I said.

  “Do what?” Her eyes went wide.

  That had thrown her. “I told you this wasn’t necessary. I think you’re beautiful and sexy. So kiss me if you really want to get the most out of this. I know I do.”

  She paused as if I were some type of venomous snake, and then she leaned in closer and pressed her lips against mine. I channeled every ounce of myself into being someone else. I was not Ozzie, husband of Nicole, the woman I’ve loved for almost a decade. I was David, a drifter who was a loner in every sense of the word, someone just out for a good time. And right now, the good time included Melissa the dominatrix.

  The kiss lasted a few seconds; then she pulled back and stared at me. Her eyes were softer, vulnerable.

  “I—” She stopped short.

  “Talk to me Melissa. Tell me what you’re feeling. Because I know what I felt in that kiss, and it wasn’t just a normal kiss.” You’re David Lee. Just looking for a good time. This whole scene doesn’t mean a thing to you.

  “David, I’m just…I don’t know, surprised.”

  I shrugged as best I could, given the angle at which my arms were hanging. “Life is difficult to predict. Who would have thought I’d run into such a strong woman at a Quick Stop?”

  “But I’m not strong. I’m weak,” she said, looking off. “I let Sam’s infidelity get to me. And it’s messed with my mind.”

  “He’s a douche bag.”

  She giggled. Even her laugh was calmer.

  “Sometimes it can take a few days, a few weeks to get over something like this. I know that—”

  “Sam cheated on me seven months ago. And ten days. Seven months and ten days.”

  I tried not to let that throw me. “It could have been seven years ago. How long did you guys date?”

  “We went out on three dates over a two-week period.”

  Okay, if I didn’t believe it earlier, I knew now that she was certifiable. Two weeks? But you’re David, Mr. Easygoing. Roll with the punches, David. “Forget about Sam. For now, for today, it’s just me and you. David and Melissa.”

  She lifted her chest and sighed. I was looking at her as a doctor might look at a patient. And this one belonged in the psych ward.

  She touched her hand to the side of my face—the side that wasn’t bruised and swollen. “Do you want me to get you some ice?” she asked.

  “No, but I’d like for you to put your head on my chest and curl up next to me.”

  Without saying another word, she snuggled up against me, placing her arm on my chest while giving me soft kisses on my shoulder. A few seconds passed, and her kisses moved up to my neck. I tugged at my wrists, hoping she’d see that I wanted to hold her, but her eyes were closed. Her mouth soon met mine, and her kiss was intense. She moaned and soon began to move her hands all over my body.

  “I want to touch you,” I said, coming up for air.

  She took my face with both hands, opened her mouth, and kissed me again—like this was the last time she’d have sex in her life. If this went to plan, we wouldn’t reach that point.

  “Melissa, do you trust me?”

  She nodded, but kept kissing me to the point where it was difficult to breathe.

  “Then let me hold you. Let me take you in my arms and show you how a real man makes love to a sensual woman.”

  She moved her hand to my crotch. “If you want me so badly, then why aren’t you ready for me?”

  “Honestly, I can’t perform when I’m under stress. Sorry.”

  “I have a couple things that might help. Burning candle wax. And these pills I got from my uncle’s house.”

  “I don’t want to be burned. That will ruin the moment. And did I tell you I have diabetes? If I take any type of pill like that, I might have a convulsion.”

  I held my breath, wondering if she’d believe my line of bullshit.

  “Hold on a second.” She reached to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out the key. She unlocked one handcuff, and my arm dropped to the bed.

  “Thank you.”

  She paused. “You won’t be another Sam, will you?”

  I wasn’t really drawing the comparison, unless she’d drugged Sam as well.

  Stay in character, Oz. “I don’t want to hear that guy’s name again. Can we just stay in this bed for the next twelve hours? If I’m in the right mood, you might get a triple bonus package.”

  She giggled. “Bone-us package. I love it. You’re just like me.”

  Oh, the irony.

  She unlocked my other wrist. I felt instant relief, especially when I noticed her tossing the key on the table.

  Time for Suave Dave to jump into action. I took her in my arms, brought her closer, and kissed her neck. That also allowed her to hump my knee a few seconds. Whatever it takes. She groaned and began clawing at my back. Was it really going to be this easy?

  Small blessings. The more she got into it—my knee, that is—the more I prepared my body for the next move. I just hoped my mind was clear enough to execute the stunt.

  Her intensity increased, but so did my revulsion. I couldn’t take any more, on my knee or anywhere else. I spun off the bed and landed on my feet. She was in such a sexual daze, she was still pawing at me and didn’t realize what I was doing. I grabbed her wrist and cuffed it.

  “What…what are you doing?”

  I didn’t respond. Up on one knee, I leaned over to grab her other wrist, but before I could grab it, she somehow brought up a leg and encircled my body. She clamped her legs shut around my neck, shutting off my air passage. Her legs were like steel traps. I not only couldn’t breathe, it felt like a blood vessel was going to burst.

  “You fucking liar! You’re nothing but a fucking liar!” She whipped her legs up and down. “I was just going to rip your dick off…the fun way, but now I’m going to rip your head off your shoulders,” she growled.

  I definitely could feel her motivation.

  Could she actually break my neck? I was a hundred pounds bigger than she was.

  Drop the ego, Oz, and get yourself out of this shit storm.

  Pawing at her legs, my hand finally grabbed her big toe. I jammed it backward.

  “Stop it, you fuckwad!” She doubled her efforts, snapping her legs with enough force to cause a Pacific Ocean tsunami. But I didn’t let go of the toe. I gave it one more big tug backward.

  Her pain threshold wasn’t very high. She squealed, “You’re hurting me.”

  But she’d released her vice grip on my neck. I shuffled away and gasped three hard breaths before saying, “Damn, you’re something else.”

  “I think you broke my toe. Kiss it, make it better?” She gave me a pouty mouth.

  “You’re like a black widow. No thank you.”

  I stepped over and snatched the key from the table. She swung her hand—her nails took off the first few layers of skin on my shoulder, just next to where Darrell had clawed me. But I had the key in my hand. I jumped back a few steps as she struggled to free her wrist from the handcuff. “Unlock me, right now, David.”

  “You want some candle wax?”

  “Fuck you!”

  I put on my clothes, found my backpack, and headed for the door.

  “You can’t just leave me here. I’ll die,” she shouted.

  I thought about my own situation first. I spotted her purse on the kitchen table, rummaged through it, and found her car keys. Then I walked back into the bedroom. “I’m headed to New York City,” I said, purposely giving her false information. “But if you call the cops on me, I’ll tell them…show them how you assaulted me and drugged me. And they’ll be able to run a drug test and see.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I’m going to
put the key on the floor here at the base of the bed. I’m guessing it will take you a couple of hours to pull your bed post apart. Maybe more. But I have faith in you, Melissa.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Good luck in your quest to find a guy to be your sex slave.” I dropped the key on the floor and gave her a quick salute.

  Melissa cussed like a crazy woman as I walked out of her apartment. I was ecstatic to leave her and my alter-ego behind. I got into her silver Accord and began my trek north.

  27

  I pulled up to a four-way stop and contemplated sending Mitch a quick text on what had gone down in New Haven and when I might be returning to his home in Bristol. Would he even believe the story? From the crazy brothers who bull-rushed me, to the cops eyeballing Mutt Three, to Guido the Kia owner, and then finally, the most innocent-looking of all, Melissa. For her alone, there was no way to summarize my thoughts in a text. Maybe I’d pen an op-ed someday, titled “Stranger Danger: Sex, Drugs, and Rocking Your Balls Off.”

  As I drove into Waterbury, nicknamed “The Brass City” because it used to be the home to the leading brassware manufacturers in the country, I was certain about one thing: it was impossible to predict a damn thing about this quest to find Nicole’s murderer.

  For now, I stayed off the phone and focused on finding Harvey’s home. I glanced up at the clock on a tower up ahead and noted the time was approaching nine o’clock.

  It didn’t take me long to find Harvey’s neighborhood. Streetlights were on, but most of the houses were dark—except Harvey’s. He had a porch light on. I trolled his house for a good ten minutes and then parked at a grocery-store parking lot four blocks down. I ambled down the street wearing my black-and-white baseball cap, the backpack slung over my shoulder. I couldn’t risk leaving it in what law-enforcement officials would view as a stolen car, although I preferred to call it “borrowed.”

  Beyond the outdoor light, Harvey’s house stood out for another reason. It was in mint condition. Many of the other homes had some noticeable dereliction, whether it be missing shutters, a sagging roof, a car up on cinderblocks, or landscaping that looked more suitable for the jungle. Harvey’s home was clean-looking from the curb, with lots of straight lines and ninety-degree angles. The house was box-shaped and one of the few made of brick. A pavestone walkway led to the front door—all the squares perfectly aligned. Even the shrubs were squared off, not a leaf out of place. A quick memory came to mind: a couple of weeks back, Mackenzie had briefly shown me some online game called Minecraft and gave me a tour of a “world” she was creating. It had looked like digital Legos to me, and I told her so. She just gave me an “Oh, Dad,” and then she walked away.

 

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