Meet Me In The Dark: (A Dark Suspense) (11 page)

BOOK: Meet Me In The Dark: (A Dark Suspense)
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“Satisfaction comes from achievement. The problem comes when you can’t decide where the finish line is. Sometimes you cross without realizing.”

– Case

 

H
er lips wrap around me as I ease into her throat. Her tongue flattens down, sliding against my shaft. I grunt, wishing I had her in the light. Wishing I could see every moment as she takes my whole length.

“You feel good,” I tell her, my hand pressing against her face for a moment of encouragement.

She gags a little when I thrust too hard.

“Shhh,” I tell her. She’s out of it now. Lost in her own world. I hate to take her this way, but I need her in that world. It’s the place that has the answers. And this is the only way I know to get her there. Garrett used her this way. He knew a long time ago how to make her comply with his demands.

I’m just figuring it out now. And she’s damn good at it. Her teeth scrape against my skin and make me wish for more. I want her on her knees. I want her eyes on me, open wide and filled with the desire to please. I’d fist her hair and pull her towards me, making her take me all the way to my balls.

Just imagining that is enough. I throw my head back and she chokes as I come down her throat, but she swallows just as the sobs start. I pull out and get off the table so I can get dressed.

The sobs build to full on crying. Big ugly gasping. Tears streaming down her face. Coughing. Semen she didn’t already swallow spilling out of her lips.

I have a moment of pause and wonder if I should just kill her. This is not what I thought it would be.

But I don’t. Because I need so much more from her than this. I need to get inside her. So I lean into her ear and whisper, “Hush.”

She stops all of it. Like I just flipped a switch.

And I did.

I put my hands behind my head and look up at the shadows on the ceiling. When I look down at her she’s staring at the ceiling as well. But her eyes are blank.

I know what he did. I know exactly what he did to her. That motherfucker.

Kill her
, the voice in my head says.
Kill her now
.

But I take out the syringe from my pocket and plunge it into her thigh instead. I need answers and she is the only one who has them.

My phone buzzes in my pants so I walk out of the room and take it out so I can tab the accept button. “Yeah.” I don’t get service up here. Not regular service anyway. This is a local network I rigged up when I first bought the place.

“You have a message, Mr. Case.”

I put it on speaker and go grab a pen and notepad from the coffee table. “Go ahead.”

“Sasha called three times.”

I put the pen down and scrub that hand down my face. “What’d she say?”

“She says she really needs to talk to you. Should I patch you through?”

“Sure. Buzz me back when you get her on the line.” I end the call and sit down on the couch. She’s the last person I need to talk to right now. I stare at the fire for a few moments and then my phone buzzes again.

I press the speaker as I take out my knife and start carving into the wood of the coffee table. “Sash,” I say, trying to sound upbeat.

“Where have you been? I’ve been calling.”

“I’m in the mountains. No service.”

“Obviously. I need you to look something up for me.”

I scowl and take her off speaker. “Why can’t Ford do it?”

She laughs. “Please. He’s the last person I want to know about this.”

“The answer is no. Anything else? I’m real busy.”

“Why? I just want a background check on a guy.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Ford can definitely do that, kid.”

“Yeah, but if Ford does it, he’ll go too far. He’ll have people follow him and stuff. And then he’ll show up and scare the shit out of the guy. And I might like this one.”

Fucking Ford. “I can’t, OK? I’m not near my gear. I’m…” I think about Sydney in the other room. Should I tell Sasha? No. Not yet. Not until I have answers. “I’m not gonna be near a computer for a few weeks, probably.” She’s silent on the other end. “Sasha?”

She sighs. “I thought you were done working?”

“I am,” I lie. “I’m just taking time off away from shit. Call me in a few weeks if you still like this guy and I’ll help you out.”

“Hmph. Well, I got into grad school. And I already got an internship for the summer. Just lab stuff. But it’s a good start.”

Sometimes I do wish she was my kid. Then these proud moments would be the result of me instead of her normal family. But if I was the one who’d kept her, she’d be all kinds of fucked up by now. “I never doubted you, brat. I’ll call you in a few weeks and we’ll celebrate.”

I end the call before she can say anything else and then throw my phone onto the couch and pick up the guitar. I start strumming that song again. It’s soft and slow. Reminds me of that year all the shit hit the fan.

I hum along with the melody, the meaning behind the words taking over for a little bit.

Happiness is not what you think, this song reminds me. You spend your whole life looking for it, but you can’t find it. It’s not a thing. It’s a state of mind.

My fingers continue to strum as I think about the words and then I stop and set the instrument aside.

Way too depressing.

I get up and turn out the lights and then dress so I can go check the property. Make sure that fuck Garrett didn’t really set me up. Of course, it’s been ten days, but old habits never die.

I get my winter gear on and step out into the cold night air. In the summer you can hear the river from here. But it’s frozen over now and will be for at least three more months.

I don’t like it out here in the winter too much. But this cabin is the perfect place to kill a girl. That’s why I brought her here, after all. I
will
kill her. She’s Garrett’s weapon and she needs to be neutralized. It’s not my fault he did this to her. It’s not my fault she’s so fucked up..

My feet crunch along in the snow as I think about that for a moment. Sydney Channing is probably gone. Her mind is very messed up. And if I tell her just how badly she’s been used, it might complicate things.

I really need to keep this simple. I pat my pocket looking for smokes, shake one out, and light it up. If I go back in there and tell her what I think is going on, things will not be simple. Things will become more than complicated. I’ll start something I might not want to finish.

If, on the other hand, I go in there and cut her throat? Well, then things get real simple.

Maybe Garrett is looking for her right now. Maybe I can take her somewhere and parade her around to get his attention. Make her bait.

I take a long drag of nicotine and blow it out as I consider my options. When the smoke is finished I toss it down into the snow and stub it out. I start the snow machine in front of the cabin and patrol the outer perimeter of the property, checking for tracks. Garrett. Wolf. Mountain lion.

All predators.

But the only tracks out here are mine.

When I’m satisfied we’re alone, I park the machine in front of the cabin and walk back inside. My mind is made up.

Simple is definitely the way to go.

I need to be with Sasha. Do that little job for her. Make her happy. I need to catch up to my friends and get a life. Put this shit behind me.

It’s time to kill Sydney Channing and move on.

Tonight.

“Things have meaning because we give them that meaning. Everything. From the song in your head to the photos in your phone. They mean things. For me, they just mean a little more.”

– Sydney

 

T
he phone call throws me. Sasha Cherlin. I’ve heard a lot about that girl but I’ve never actually met her. Seen her, back when she was a little girl. Heard about her. And maybe, if I’m honest, wished I
was
her on more than a few occasions.

Her life might’ve gotten off track—fucked up is a much better way to put it—but she had a real father growing up. She was never hidden away. She was never…

Stop, Sydney. There is no point in going backwards. Now you have to think about…

The music throws me again. I’m tied to the table still. His drug cocktail isn’t working as well anymore. I’m getting a tolerance for it. But it’s still good enough to take me out of things.

But the music. Of all the songs in the world, my killer has to play that song?

Did he hear me play it? How long has he been watching me? He said the whole time. But if that’s true, then he knows I haven’t seen Garrett. So it must be a lie.

I hum the song and in my head I can hear him humming along with me. Or maybe that’s really happening.

It’s hard to tell in this dark room. The sink is not dripping. I don’t even know when he left the room. All I know is that I heard the phone ring and then suddenly I was staring up at the ceiling. He had his…

Oh, God. The image of him straddling me. Taking my mouth that way. I sob. Not because I hated it, but because I loved it. I’ve dreamed of him and now here he is. And I despise myself for wanting him. I loathe myself for saying yes, even though I can’t say no.

The music stops. A few minutes later I hear a door close. Did he leave? A little while after that I hear a snow machine.

I struggle against my bindings. They are tight, but they are also damp from the hose and I’m a small person. My hands are tiny and my wrists are narrow. It won’t take much to slip through. And the ties are leather, so they give more and more as I wriggle them back and forth, desperately trying to get free. They give a little, but not enough.

Hurry, Sydney,
my mind urges.
Hurry, before he comes back
.

I start to breathe hard. Panting, almost. My heart is racing with the thought of escape.

But then I stop. What will happen if he catches me?

Not anything worse than if he comes back in to find you still here!

I wriggle some more, and bit by bit, the tether around my wrists becomes large enough for me to slip my hands through. I sit up, getting dizzy from the drugs. But I push that down and reach for my legs. They are cuffed in leather with buckles, so those are much easier.

When I’m free, I stand and feel my way to the door. It’s locked. I feel around the perimeter of the room, my hands scraping across the rough wood of the walls, until I come all the way back to the door he uses to enter and exit.

No windows. Not even one that is boarded up.

And I’m naked. It’s winter. Freezing-ass cold outside. So what did I really think I was going to do? I scoff at my stupid plan. Escape? Naked? This thought alone is enough to make me shiver. The room is colder than it was. He must’ve let the fire die down. I feel my way back to the stone hearth and kneel down on the rug. It’s warmer here, but not by much. I press myself up against the metal that separates me from the heat and let out a sigh.

I give up. Maybe I can lie? Or maybe he will come to accept the fact that I don’t know anything? Or maybe—

A door slams on the other side and I know he’s back. His boots thud across the floorboards. There’s some crackling of the fire on the other side and then a burst of heat, letting me know he’s put more wood on the fire.

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