Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) (21 page)

Mike read the text from Alisha as he ran to the limo. His blood heated as he thought about her wandering around the school.
What the hell did she need in the library?
He wanted her in her classroom. He wanted her safe in his arms.

“Yo,” Jack called, catching up with Mike. “What’s the hurry? Did I miss something?”

“Have you not been paying attention?” Mike snarled. “Alisha’s at school. Alone,” he bit out as he pulled open the limo door.

Jack slid in beside him as Mike started the limo and buckled himself in. Mike tapped into his phone.

On my way. You okay? Get back to room!

He set the phone in the mount and waited for a reply. She’d been pretty quick at replying throughout the day, so he didn’t expect much of a delay.

He pulled out of the airport and onto the main road. His stomach knotted, and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

Still no reply.

Jack looked at the silent phone and back at his friend who gave off steam like an active volcano. “Want me to send another message? Maybe she missed that one.” Jack really hoped that was the reason for her non-reply, but he doubted it.

Mike knew that wasn’t it. He knew she was gone. She was in the hands of her stalker, and it was his fault. He’d buckled under her pressure and let her make decisions when she was unqualified to make decisions. Alisha would be another innocent’s blood on his hands. He wasn’t sure he could live with that.

He nodded to Jack. “Ask her if she’s okay.” He gripped the steering wheel too tightly, afraid he would lose control.

Jack grabbed the cell and tapped in the message.

You okay?

Jack slid the phone back into the mount and waited. Each second dragged out. The speedometer eased higher as the seconds turned into minutes. Jack felt the hammering of his own heart, so he could only imagine the heavy pounding that Mike must be feeling in his chest.

Mike broke the painful silence first. “You go to her classroom. I’ll check out the library.” He knew she wouldn’t be in either place, but he had to at least check before he contacted Savage Securities. He didn’t want to look like he pissed his pants because his girlfriend missed a text.

The limo pulled into the now nearly empty parking lot. Only a few cars dotted the asphalt. Mike and Jack sprinted to the doors and pulled. The doors didn’t open. They were locked.

“Shit!” Mike cursed and jerked on the door again.

Jack watched as Mike repeatedly yanked on the door handle. He stepped back and noticed another set of doors with a YMCA sign nearby. Afterschool care. Parents had to get their little angels somehow.

Jack raced to the doors and pulled. They opened easily. “Hey, Mike,” he called. He signaled with his hand through the opened door.

Mike took off towards the open doors and ran into the school. An eerie quiet filled the halls that earlier had been so full of life. No one was around, but muffled shouts came from the gymnasium. Jack took off up the stairs, taking two at a time. Mike glanced down the hallway and noticed a sign that said ‘Library’. He ran past the gymnasium doors to the double doors that led into the library.

The lights flickered on as he entered the library. Bookcases three shelves high lined the edges and filled in the center of the room. “Alisha,” he called out. “Alisha!” He walked through the computer stations. He knew she wouldn’t be here, but he held out hope that she’d fallen or something stupid like that.

As he made his way through the library, he noticed a few classrooms on the periphery of the library. Warning signs raced to his brain as his gut twisted. He had enough experience to trust his gut.

Mike called out again, “Alisha,” his voice strong and loud. “Alisha.” He felt each pulse of his heart reverberate through him like a hammer striking an anvil. Each thundering pulse rocked him to the core.

Colorful, little flags hung on the outside of the doors by the classrooms. There were three: Resource, AIG, and Counselor. He’d been in the AIG class as a student. He knew it stood for Academically and Intellectually Gifted class. That was the class that bothered him. One of the male teachers at the school was the AIG teacher. He rushed towards that class.

Mike opened the AIG classroom door and stepped inside. He took a moment to take in the details. The classroom was neat and tidy. Mr. Parker clearly had some degree of OCD. Nothing was out of place. The chairs were perfectly pushed in and the floor was spotless. Most classrooms had messy book bins, pencil shavings, and pieces of paper littering the space, but this room was museum quality clean. This was a bad sign.

He strode over to the man’s desk. There had to be a clue. The desk was neat. Three sharp pencils stood point up in a cup beside three pens of different colors: blue, black, and red. A little organizational tray sat on the desk. There were paperclips, tacks, rubber bands, and sticky notes. Mr. Parker’s lesson plan book lay open to tomorrow’s schedule. What was the man hiding?

Mike pulled open the top drawer, and his eyes landed on them. He’d known to trust his gut. It had never failed him. Mike clutched the small, plastic box. He wanted to crush it in his hand. The tiny Tic Tacs taunted him.

The bastard had her.

Mike slammed the drawer shut and raced through the library, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He tapped on Logan’s number and waited.

Logan didn’t even bother looking at his phone as it buzzed on his desk. He was too busy scrolling through the take-out menu for Han’s Chinese Dynasty. He ate there at least once a week.  Without looking at his phone he hit talk. “Murphy,” he said.

“Murph,” Mike said. “He got her. I need her location.”

Logan sat straighter in his chair and hit the keys on his computer. He pulled up the screen tied to the tracker. “I got her. I’m sending you the coordinates now. I’ll tell the guys and contact the police.”

“Thanks.” Mike ran down the school hall and met Jack at the entrance.

“Got the text,” Jack said. “Let’s go.”

Alisha’s mouth was dry. Too dry. Her arms hurt. She tried to move, but she couldn’t, at least not well. She wiggled, but pain shot through her extremities. She rolled her head, but an intense throbbing burned through her skull and blinded her.

She blinked rapidly until her vision cleared. She didn’t know where she was. The room was dark. Heavy curtains hung on the windows blocking out the light. She couldn’t make out the shapes that filled the room.
What happened?
Confusion overwhelmed her as her eyes closed again and darkness engulfed her.

Angry and scared voices filled the space around her. Alisha forced herself awake. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. The back of her eyelids scratched along the surface of her eyes as she willed her eyes open. She blinked rapidly, trying to moisten her eyes and improve her vision. Her arms were killing her. The pain started in her shoulders and radiated down her arms and into her numb fingertips. She tried to move her arms, but she couldn’t. She turned her head, craning to look above her shoulder, and that was when everything snapped into place.

Her breath came in short gasps. She jerked her hands wildly in an attempt to free herself. Plastic zip ties encircled her wrists and strapped her to a wrought iron bed frame. She pulled, but the frame just banged against the wall. She wiggled her legs, hoping to sit up, but felt the rough scratch of rope cut into her ankles.

She was trapped.

Fear consumed her. Her heart rate soared. She couldn’t catch her breath. She’d never imagined being in this scenario. Seeing it played out in movies was one thing; living it was something completely different. Panic engulfed her. She pulled wildly on her hands, twisting and hoping to free herself from the plastic ties that restrained her, but the heavy-duty plastic simply rubbed her wrists raw.

“Hush, hush, hush,” a man’s voice cooed.

She snapped her head in his direction and watched as he stood from kneeling beside a woman huddled in a corner. The woman’s hands were zip tied and rope secured her feet. A rag gagged the woman, muffling her moans and cries.

Alisha watched as the man slowly made his way to her, as if he didn’t want to frighten her.
How could he do this?
“Mr. Parker?” she whispered. A tear streamed down her cheek.
Why hadn’t she listened to Mike? She should have hidden at Savage Securities.

Pacey reached behind his back and pulled out a gun. He set it on the bedside table. He wouldn’t bring a gun into their bed. Besides, he only had it on him in case that dumb oaf showed up.

He sat beside Alisha. The mattress bowed slightly under his weight and forced her body to roll towards him. “Oh, oh, oh, my sweet,” he soothed. “You must call me Pacey.”

He lay down and stretched out beside her, his face looking into hers as he gently cupped her cheek. “Or perhaps we can come up with a pet name that we both enjoy.” He could think of many names he wanted to call her. And he couldn’t wait to hear her calling out his name when she came. He couldn’t wait to look into those marvelous eyes as he rocked into her and felt her shatter around him.

He loved her eyes. Most blue eyes were not as vibrant as hers. He could get lost in the depths of her azure pools. He rolled onto his side and draped one leg over hers so their hips were aligned. He wasn’t ready to consummate their love. He certainly wouldn’t do it in front of the bitch. But he did look forward to sharing all of himself with Alisha. He needed her to know his affection for her, and the proof of his love was expanding in his pants as he snuggled up next to her.

As his blood rushed through him, he reminded himself to not be distracted by his carnal feelings for Alisha. He stroked away her tears with his knuckles. “You rest, my sweet. We’ll have time to catch up later.” He pressed a kiss to her lips.

He was disappointed when she didn’t open her mouth to him. He wanted to taste her, to feel the warmth of her mouth as his tongue explored her. “I’ll be back. I just have one little problem to resolve.” He looked over his shoulder at the woman bound in the corner. “Then it will just be the two of us.”

He pressed his hand to Alisha’s abdomen and admired the flatness of her belly. She was fit and firm, the opposite of his wife, the bitch. The bitch had been good for a while, but he was ready to trade up. He stood and gazed down at Alisha’s fine figure stretched out on his bed.

“Pacey, please,” she pleaded. “My arms hurt.” Her shoulders burned and the pain radiated down her arms. How long had he had her like this, stretched out as if in some sort of medieval torture device?

He looked longingly at her form stretched out on the bed. After being cramped in the cooler and then stretched out on the bed, her arms likely did hurt from being stretched above her head, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to release her yet.

He looked at her and considered his options. He wanted her in a good mood for later, but he also wanted to keep her contained. She didn’t need to see what he was going to do in the bathroom. He wanted to spare her that. He loved her too much to allow her to witness such an offensive sight.

“Please,” she whispered. “I’m in pain.” As she blinked, her lashes forced tears to fall down her cheeks. “I know you love me.” Her stomach churned on the words, but she only had to keep Pacey happy until Mike came for her. She still had her bra on, thank God. She prayed that he’d find her in time. “Please let me get more comfortable. I’m not going anywhere,” she promised. Alisha licked her lips and gave him a weak smile, hoping that he would give in to her pleas.

Pacey loved her. Loved her more than he loved himself. He ached at the pain he saw etched on her face. “Okay, my love,” he said. He went to the dresser and picked up a knife. He held the blade up and looked at the woman on the floor. She eyed Pacey and shook her head. Alisha lifted her head as far as she could to get a better look at the woman, but the angle was bad.

Pacey sat on the bed and trailed his finger up the soft flesh of Alisha’s arm. He slipped the blade under the plastic zip tie. With a quick flick of his wrist, he cut the plastic and her arms fell free. He set the knife on the bedside table beside the gun.

Tears streamed down Alisha’s face. She didn’t know if it was from the pain in her arms or the fear engulfing her, but she was certainly out of control. She sat up and rolled her shoulders. She rubbed her wrists where the plastic had cut into them. The skin was red and raw. Hatred began to replace the fear, and determination to survive consumed her.

She looked up at Pacey as she rubbed her wrist. “Thanks,” she said. She quickly eyed the gun on the bedside table. It was a Glock.

Pacey hated seeing the red marks around her delicate wrists. “I’m sorry,” he soothed. He took her wrist in his hand and brought it to his mouth. He pressed her sore skin to his mouth and tasted the saltiness of her flesh.

Alisha wanted to hit him. Punch him in the face and break his nose, but her feet were still tied to the bed. She’d never reach the gun, even if she dazed him for a moment, so she sat there, letting him lick her. She fought the urge to throw up.

Pacey gazed into her eyes as he tongued her wrist. She tasted better than he imagined. There was a time when he got hard tasting his wife, but the bitch didn’t do it for him anymore. Now he needed Alisha. Now he understood what love really was. He saw it in Alisha’s eyes.

“You wait here, my love.” Pacey nestled Alisha’s hands in her lap. “I need to speak to this lady.” He looked over his shoulder to the cow huddled in the corner. Then he reached over, grabbed the gun and slipped it in the space between his pants and his back.

“Is that your wife?” Alisha asked. She hated the sound of her voice, all shaky and pathetic. The woman huddled in the corner looked vaguely familiar. Alisha thought she recognized her from the staff holiday party last year. Now tears streaked black mascara down her face. Blue scrub pants with a multi-colored teddy bear scrub shirt reminded Alisha that she was a nurse. “She’s a nurse right?”

“You don’t need to worry about her,” Pacey bit out. He hadn’t wanted Alisha to see the bitch. He didn’t want anything to mar their coupling. “I’m going to take care of her,” he said.

Alisha noted the cruel edge to his voice. “She looks scared,” Alisha said. “Maybe you should let her go. It will just be the two of us.”
What the hell am I saying?
She stared at the gun handle that peeked out from the back of his waistband. With her feet still tied to the bed, he was just out of reach. She’d never get the gun from him.

Pacey looked over his shoulder at Alisha. His eyes pierced her, and her courage nearly crumbled. She already knew he was out of touch with reality, but the look in his eyes revealed how dangerous he was. Nothing was off limits to him. “She’s my problem. I’ll take care of her,” he bit out.

Alisha felt each word as if it were a bullet strategically placed to her heart. She knew what he meant to do to the woman, and she wanted to throw up. It was bad enough that he kidnapped her, but to kill someone so he could rape her was more than she could handle. She shook her head and said, “No, no,” she panted. She scooted to the end of the bed and raised herself up as best she could with her feet still tied to the bed. “Don’t hurt her, Pacey,” she pleaded. She reached out to grab at his arms, but he was just out of reach. “Don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with us.”

Pacey reached down and grabbed the bitch by the wrists and hauled her up. She was heavier than Alisha, but his anger fueled him, gave him the strength to haul her fat ass around.

Mary spastically shook her head and pulled against him, struggling to get away. She’d known she needed to leave him. Their marriage had ended long ago. She knew he wasn’t faithful, but she hadn’t been either. She should have left his sorry ass when she caught him jacking off to pictures of teachers from his school on the internet. But she hadn’t left him. She put up with his shit because going through the motions was easier than starting all over again. And now her laziness was going to kill her. The fucked up bastard was going to kill her. She saw it in his eyes.

“No,” Mary mumbled. “No,” she screamed through the spit soaked gag. She could barely breathe. Her nose was clogged from the mucus her crying caused, and the gag made breathing through her mouth difficult. She scratched at his bicep as he pulled her along.

Pacey was tired of the bitch. He should’ve drugged her too.
For a genius, you sure are stupid,
he thought to himself. He dragged Mary into the hallway and slammed her back against the wall. Her head smashed into a picture that hung on the wall.

He smiled when he saw the picture’s glass break behind her head. He barked a laugh when he noticed it was the picture of them cutting the cake from their wedding.
How wonderfully perfect. She managed to destroy their wedding picture just like she destroyed their marriage.
Blood trickled down Mary’s neck. Her mousy brown hair suddenly had red highlights that he especially liked.
She really should have been a redhead.

Pain shot through Mary’s head and lights dazzled before her eyes when she made contact with the wall. Tiny pieces of glass cut into her skin. Pacey pulled her away from the wall and dragged her along. She fought against him. She didn’t care if he shoved her against the wall again. She was dead if she didn’t fight, and she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Mary heard the other woman pleading from the bedroom. She couldn’t believe the other woman was begging for
her
life. She appreciated her support, but she knew it would do no good. At least her death would be quick, and she hoped painless. But unfortunately it looked like Pacey had plans for the defenseless woman tied to the bed.

Mary’s sex life with Pacey had ranged from non-existent to barely there. He struggled to keep an erection, and when he could keep it up, he humped about like a rutting pig. So Mary found her sexual pleasure in the arms of other men. Maybe the woman tied to the bed would get lucky and Pacey’s manhood would shrivel under the pressure of consummating whatever the hell he thought they would be consummating.

Thinking back, as Pacey dragged her into the bathroom, Mary couldn’t remember what she ever saw in him. He was smart. She had liked that about him, but other than that, there was nothing likeable about him. Perhaps their years of unfulfilled expectations had removed any trace of the love that she’d once had for him, because for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything redeeming about him.

Pacey shoved the bitch against the bathroom wall. The towel bar hit her spine in an awkward place. She groaned as the pain splintered down her back.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?” he fumed. He shoved his face into hers. “Do you?” He jerked the gag away from her mouth. Spit trailed down her chin.

Mary knew why. He didn’t love her. He wanted her out of the way so he could live his delusional life with the pretty hostage tied to their bed. And he didn’t have the balls to go through a divorce, so he was just going to make her disappear. He’d get to keep all their assets, not that they had much, and none of the shame that came when a wife walks out on her husband.

Mary moved her mouth, stretching her jaw through the pain. “Does it matter?” she whispered. She wasn’t interested in hearing his justification. He was a selfish bastard. Always had been.

Pacey put his face next to hers, letting his breath wash over her face. “I don’t love you,” he screamed.