Depraved

by Bryan Smith

  “I stopped to do a bump of coke. I didn’t want to tell you.” He indicated the dashboard with a small nod of his head. “Check the glove box.”

  Jessica opened the glove compartment.

  She sucked in a quick, startled breath. It was there, just as he’d said, a small amount of white powder weighing down a corner of a crumpled plastic sandwich bag. She swallowed with great difficulty, the lump in her throat like a ball of smoldering charcoal sliding down her esophagus. She felt dizzy. Sweat collected in her armpits and slid down her sides. She flung the bag back inside the glove box and flipped it shut.

  Larry cleared his throat. “You, ah…sort of treated my little stash like it was on fire.”

  Jessica stared at the closed glove box. “I had a small problem with that shit a while back.”

  “What happened?”

  “Rehab.”

  “Ah, shit. So you don’t party at all, huh?”

  “I drink.”

  “Huh.” Larry stroked the stubble on his chin and pursed his lips. “Never been to rehab myself. Reckon I’ll keep at it until the stuff does me in or I just get too old to party. But the way I understand it, you go to rehab, you’re supposed to quit everything.”

  Jessica looked at him. His earnest expression eased some of her tension. There was genuine human concern there. It was nice to see after facing down so many bad guys. “I live by my own rules and what’s right for me. I drink. Sometimes I drink too much. But I don’t have a problem with it, not like I did with coke. Trust me.”

  Larry nodded. “Okay. Good enough.”

  “I know I’m being bitchy, but I’ve had kind of a rough day.”

  “I understand.”

  A moment of silence.

  Jessica watched the trees flash by.

  She looked at Larry and his face turned her way, a bemused smile working at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah?”

  She touched his knee again. “You’re kind of cute for a redneck.”

  He laughed. “You ain’t so bad yourself. Ain’t every day I run into a gal kicks more ass than Zoë Bell and looks like a supermodel.”

  “Supermodel.” Jessica snorted. “Right. That’s the second time you’ve used that ridiculous word.”

  “Yeah, but I ain’t kiddin’.”

  They looked at each other, eyes locking, and a different kind of tension formed between them again. Jessica experienced a dizzying surge of arousal. Her hand tightened around Larry’s knee. “Please tell me we’re almost—”

  Larry grinned. “Hell, we’re already there, practically.”

  He nodded at the road ahead and she saw a glow of electric lights some hundred yards away and coming up fast. Another fifty yards closer and she was able to make out the low-lying outlines of two ranch-style houses facing each other across the road. There were no street lamps out this way, but the smallish lawns were lit by floodlights. The house to the left showed signs of a human presence. Lights were on throughout the house, and a truck was parked in the driveway. The lights were out in the house to the right, and the driveway was empty, obviously marking it as Larry’s home, a guess verified in a few moments when he pulled into the driveway and shut the Nova’s engine off.

  He let out a yelp of surprise as she came at him in a hurry, shoving him back against the seat and straddling his thigh as her wet lips found his mouth and went to work. She probed his mouth with her tongue, her head turning in a blur of constant motion as she attacked him from every angle with her mouth. Kissing him hard and teasing him endlessly with her tongue. She chewed on his lower lip and kissed his neck, making him arch his back and moan.

  He was panting when she pulled away. His face was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, and his racing pulse beat visibly at his neck. He gaped at her in obvious astonishment as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “Like that?”

  He nodded and managed a low, hoarse reply. “Yeah…oh, God, yeah…”

  “Of course you did.”

  She writhed slowly against him, enjoying the way his face contorted. Enjoyed, too, the feel of his strong hands sliding over her body. The sensation was so good it nearly erased the lingering aches that had plagued her since the crash.

  “Want some more?”

  He nodded. Whimpered.

  Such a helpless sound from such a strong man.

  She loved it.

  She slid away from him, settled back into the passenger seat. “Take me inside, Larry. Now.”

  Larry didn’t have to be told twice. He was out of the car maybe a second later, and she was right behind him. They walked briskly up a path of inlaid stone steps toward the front porch. Jessica watched him from behind, enjoying the interplay of muscles obvious through the fabric of his tight white T-shirt. He looked as if he worked out a lot when he wasn’t speeding around in a goofy Chevy Nova and snorting coke. She was so eager to wrap herself around his lean and powerful body, she was almost drooling. A desperate desire for hot, sweaty sex was a strange thing for a woman in her position to crave. She recognized and accepted this. Didn’t lessen the desire one bit, though. It even made a crazy kind of sense to her. She had started the day as the victim of an assault. Male strength and anger had been used against her. And now here she was, a few hours later, wanting it from this man, this stranger, and she was the aggressor, in a way. But it was about more than that. She’d seen bloody death up close multiple times. Had felt her heart slam and almost feel as if it would burst as she narrowly eluded her own death more than once. She’d heard sex described as the ultimate affirmation of life, a sentiment she’d not truly understood before. Now, as she watched Larry, she thought she understood it perfectly.

  God, but I want to fuck this man’s brains out.

  She thought of the packet of coke in Larry’s car and remembered with shocking vividness how much she used to enjoy getting fucked all night long while coked out of her mind. The thought made her lips curl and her nostrils flare.

  Maybe…

  No.

  She shoved the thought out of her mind. Going down that path again would inevitably lead her back into the mess she’d left behind years ago. She could not allow it to happen, not even one little slip. She’d made a promise to her mother after rehab, and now more than ever, with her gone, she meant to keep that promise.

  Still…

  No!

  Her heart was beating fast, almost too fast, by the time they reached the porch. Another reminder of the drug days. She watched Larry climb the steps to the porch and lean toward the yellow glow of the single porch light to sort through his keys. She silently urged him to hurry as she planted a foot on the first step. She needed to be inside and tearing his clothes off. Needed to lose herself in his body and derail the potentially destructive train of thought brought on by the coke memories.

  He found the right key and grinned over his shoulder at her. “Got it.”

  “Hurry.”

  He opened a screen door and slipped the key in the lock. He chuckled. “Movin’ as fast as I can.”

  He turned the key and twisted the knob.

  Jessica climbed another step…

  She saw the dark bloom of crimson in the center of his back a fraction of a second before she heard the shot. The sound came again. And again. Larry’s body twitched as multiple bullets hit it. He staggered backward, crashed into Jessica, and sent her spinning to the ground. She landed hard and rolled. She wound up on her back, but then heaved herself onto her side. She saw Larry’s body sprawled on the ground. He was dead. She saw and understood that right away. But she couldn’t comprehend why it had happened. She felt sick and dizzy, her mind swirling with a clash of conflicting, incoherent thoughts. Larry’s eyes were open and still, staring straight up at the black sky.

  Someone was screaming.

  Jessica tore her eyes away from the dead man.

  A woman in very short blue-jean cutoffs and a pink halter top stood outlined in the open doorway, a smoking pistol clutched in her right hand. Th
e gears in Jessica’s mind spun around like the numbers on a slot machine and landed on a name written in pulsing red block letters across the forefront of her consciousness: ROXANNE.

  The crazy ex Larry had talked about on the way here.

  He hadn’t been lying, after all.

  The woman was coming down the porch now.

  Coming toward her.

  She was still screaming, but the sounds coalesced into actual, understandable words now: “YOU FUCKING WHORE! I KNEW THAT SONOFABITCH WAS SCREWING SOME GODDAMN FUCKING WHORE! YOU’RE DEAD, YOU FUCKING CUNT!”

  She was standing over Jessica now, red-lacquered fingernails curled around the butt of a .44 Magnum. She aimed the gun at Jessica’s face and spoke in a drunken slur. “Say good-bye, bitch. I hope the two of you have fun burning in hell.”

  Jessica remembered the gun in her own hand.

  She raised it and aimed.

  Another explosion rang out in the quiet rural night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  The old Maynard cabin looked like a dead thing glimpsed from the outside. A rotting husk. It was strange. Shadows should obscure ugly truth. But the moonlight highlighted the old structure’s decrepitude in ways not obvious when viewed beneath the glare of the summer sun. Yes, it looked dead. Frail. Brittle. Looking at it made Abby think of a black-and-white photo she’d once seen of the hull of an old ship washed up on a stretch of lonely beach. The cabin was a standing ruin, a thing left over from an age long past.

  Sadness encroached as she neared the cabin’s sagging front porch. She had a strong feeling the old ways and the old families were nearing the end of a long road. They had endured against the march of time and progress since before the days of secession and war. But the world outside Hopkins Bend just kept getting bigger, expanding and pushing into areas where before there had only been wildlife and lush wilderness. It didn’t take any kind of genius or seer to know the locals couldn’t keep the outside world at bay forever. Someday some smart person in law enforcement would begin to put some pieces together, maybe start to pinpoint a general area where so many people had gotten permanently lost on the way to somewhere else. Someone might then dig into the old files on Evan Maynard. And after that, the end would come pretty quick.

  As Abby stepped into the cabin’s dark interior and paused to light the lantern that hung just inside the door, she wondered why the thought should make her sad. She’d all but washed her hands of Hopkins Bend. She planned to be gone from here forever by this time Saturday. She hated life here. Hated her status as an outcast, which was becoming more entrenched with each passing day. And yet this was the only life she’d ever known, here in this cabin and in the woods she knew well, among these people.

  She went into the kitchen and lit another lantern. This one she removed from its hook on the wall and carried with her as she moved through the tight, dark pantry. She opened the door to the cellar and exercised great care as she descended the creaking stairs to the cellar floor. She held the lantern up and looked at Michelle. The woman she’d thought of as “the dinner” until earlier today was asleep, her body hanging slack from the rope securing her to the beam overhead. Her head hung to one side, and her chest softly rose and fell as she breathed in and out.

  Abby hung the lantern on a hook and approached Michelle. The woman kept sleeping, apparently undisturbed by either the intrusion of light or Abby’s proximity. That, or she was pretending to sleep. Feigning sleep was something most of them did from time to time, even though it never did them any good. Abby felt her breath quicken as she allowed herself a few moments to admire the woman’s toned and shapely body. She longed to touch her again. To let her hands go wherever they wanted to go. And do whatever they wanted to do. It was so painfully tempting…

  She closed her mouth and held her breath.

  Counted to ten.

  Let the breath out.

  And said,“It’s me.”

  Michelle opened her eyes and looked at Abby. The dark eyes were unreadable in the flickering gloom, but the way they looked at her so steadily made Abby’s heart flutter. Michelle made a noise behind the gag, prompting Abby to pull it gently away from her mouth.

  “God. Thank you.” Michelle breathed heavily. “You have no idea how hard it is too breathe only through your nose all the fucking time.”

  “Sorry I had to put the gag back. Ma or my sister might’ve come around whiles I was gone.”

  “So you did it to keep up appearances.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can’t you let me down yet?”

  Abby shook her head. “Sorry. Ain’t time yet.”

  Michelle frowned. Her eyes shifted from Abby, stared into a dark corner of the cellar. Abby resisted an urge to brush the back of a hand across one of the woman’s finely sculpted cheeks. But resistance wasn’t easy. There was something about Michelle that made a person ache with the need to touch her. Something beyond the superficial allure of beauty. Perhaps it was a hint of the exotic she found so compelling. A driver’s license or passport would identify her as Caucasian, but the vaguely almond shade of her skin suggested a dollop of Latino blood flowing through her veins. The lush lips and big eyes reinforced this suggestion.

  Michelle was looking at her again. “Abby?”

  “Yeah?”

  A corner of the woman’s mouth twitched, almost curled into a knowing smirk. “Kiss me.”

  Abby’s cheeks blazed scarlet. “What…? You want me to…what?”

  Michelle smiled. “I want you to kiss me.”

  She stretched her neck out, puckered those delectably plump lips.

  Abby was trembling. “I—I don’t know…”

  Michelle did smirk this time. “Seemed like you knew what you wanted when you had your hands on me earlier.”

  Abby’s face flushed again. “I’m…sorry about that. I had no right.”

  “It’s okay. I liked it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  Abby wiped sweat from her brow and smiled nervously. “I…liked it, too.” Her heart was beating so fast, it felt as if it might explode as she made this admission. “You’re so pretty.”

  “You need to kiss me, Abby. Now.”

  She extended her neck again.

  Puckered her lips again.

  Abby leaned toward her.

  Their mouths met.

  The first flick of Michelle’s tongue was all it took to make her lose all control. She wrapped her arms around the woman and leaned into the kiss. Michelle hooked a strong leg around Abby’s waist and locked their bodies together. Abby felt the thrust of Michelle’s erect nipples through the fabric of her dress. The sensation stoked the flame of her arousal to an almost unbearable intensity. She twisted out of the sweaty embrace long enough to pull the dress off over her head. Then she threw herself against Michelle again, desire blinding her to everything, including the way the woman winced as the chains binding her wrists chafed painfully against her flesh. It also obscured the dim creak made by a foot placed carefully on the wooden staircase behind them.

  Michelle pried her lips away from Abby’s mouth and spoke in a hoarse tone between panting breaths. “Take…me down. We’ll make love…right here.”

  Abby cupped Michelle’s face in her hands and felt sweat against her palms. The slick sheen covering every inch of the woman’s body shimmered in the lantern light. To Abby, she looked like a glowing, ethereal goddess. Michelle leaned closer, soft lips brushing her mouth again, breath hot against her tingling flesh. “You can’t imagine how good I am.”

  Abby whimpered deep in her throat.

  She struggled for focus. She needed to think past the overwhelming desire consuming her long enough to figure out what to do. It was tempting to say fuck everything else and do what Michelle asked. She imagined herself stretched out on the cellar floor, Michelle doing amazing things to her body with her skilled hands and mouth. That image alone was almost enough to make her fetch the key. But she forced herself to
hold on a little longer. To think some more. She’d told Michelle tomorrow evening would be the best time to attempt an escape, but she’d only said that to buy herself some time while she tried to make a final decision about what to do. Her mind had been made up for some time by this point, though.

  Okay, she thought. I’ll let her down.

  We’ll go tonight.

  With Ma and Laura out whoring around—and Laura’s brats scattered to God alone knew where—there could be no better time. The cabin above the cellar was empty and might stay that way for hours yet. Abby felt a rising excitement as she saw that the time to make the bold move she’d fantasized about had finally arrived.

  “I’ll get the key.”

  Michelle’s eyes went wide with surprise. It was clear she hadn’t believed Abby would actually do it. “Really?”

  Abby cupped the woman’s face again. “Really. We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

  Tears formed in Michelle’s eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks. She sniffled. “Thank you.”

  A voice rang out like an explosion somewhere behind them. “WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS GOING ON DOWN HERE?”

  Abby jumped.

  Michelle groaned and said,“Fuck.”

  Abby unwrapped herself from Michelle’s sleek body and turned around to see Laura Maynard standing at the foot of the cellar stairs. Her sister’s mouth hung open in astonishment. She stared aghast at Abby, looking at her in the manner of a person in the presence of something truly abominable.

  Her sister’s voice rang out again: “YOU FUCKING PERVERT!” She moved several steps toward them and thrust a finger toward the cellar stairs. “GET YOUR CLOTHES ON, YOU GODDAMN FREAK, AND GET THE FUCK ON OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

  Abby just stared at her.

  She imagined her sister hearing the moans and whimpers as she’d come down the stairs. Imagined what she must have thought when she saw them together. When she’d finally understood that something other than the usual abuse of the prisoner was happening. And in that moment, Abby understood just how completely and irretrievably lost her old life was now.

  Laura took another step toward her and thrust her outstretched arm back toward the stairs again. “Did you not hear me, you perverted piece of shit? I want you out of my house. Now. God help you if I have to tell you again.”