Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series (37 page)
Read Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series Online
Authors: Cordelia Caldwell
Disbelief spread across his face as he realized what had happened as he watched the second injury blossom over his white shirt. "Francine," he said, he was dying, surprise still a mask on his face "you shot me.” He was
probably
dying, the bullet leaving a stain across his shirt. “I thought your Master was coming.” Her breathing became more steady as she thought about what he did to her on that table, what he had wanted to do to Paris destroying the bright light in her clever eyes forever, but mostly she thought all of the women he'd taken, all the one's who'd never had hope and she felt herself go numb, everything she was disappeared into a frosty void inside of her.
"He is.” She said. “You’ll just have to deal with me first.” she said icily. She shot him one more time - in the head.
Chapter 38
Karl sprinted up to the old stable after hearing the gunshots not knowing what he’d find. Francine was standing over Ralph, he was lying on the ground, a bloody mess, she stood over him shaking. He came up behind her and felt a shudder go through her, “It’s me Angel.” She collapsed into his arms.
“Oh God...” She said, turning in his arms. He looked down at the body, Ralphs sightless eyes staring out. He called Paris.
She got there right after Frank. He watched her getting out of her car mentally armed for bear. He watched her in all of her lawyer glory preparing for whatever questions the oncoming onslaught of police might bring. She was really something that Paris, smart, determined he
should not
be humming “Short Skirt, Long Jacket”...
The local police who bagged Ralph and took a report citing the homicide as a clear case of self defense. They ran their yellow tape, collected their evidence, noted that Francine Anderson was very cooperative throughout the whole thing, answering all of their questions; yes, her and her attorney would be down at the station tomorrow. No, she didn't want to go to the hospital, he had slapped her. The blood was already rushing to the surface of the skin leaving a red bruise that would turn ugly that night. She’d recover, she’d probably gotten worse in self defense classes.
Ralph’s background check revealed that he was indeed a shady character making it easy to believe he did indeed lead the sex slaving ring, otherwise known as “The Organization”. Case closed - finally.
The police moved purposely out to their cars the doors closing the doors with quiet snips, engines rolling over and moving away. Then Frank, sneaking one last look at Paris before Karl walked him out to his pristine, federally issued Crown Vic, thanking him for being a good “go between”, having Ralph’s background check right there ready for the police inspection.
Then Paris giving out one of her soft perfumed hugs before making her departure promising her return tomorrow to accompany them to the station. No she would
not
meet them there, they would all go in together, like the family they were (Francine felt a tear come to her eye).
Karl took her upstairs, to the master bedroom, letting her lay down. The sensual drowsiness of the night was finally upon them. Francine watched the digital clock turn over her eyes growing heavy. “So this means you’ll meet me on the 21st in a couple months?”
“What in the world is happening then Karl.” More of a statement than a question.
“That’s when Margaret is planning our wedding.”
A few more moments passed.
“Is this your off the wall way of asking me to marry you?”
“I just didn't think you’d want to mess with
Mistress Margaret
, if you think I’m bad...” he pulled her closer. “I almost lost you Francine...” She heard it, the uncertainty. She remembered, that night in bed when she woke up, and her soul was cold.
“Of course I’ll meet you Karl.” She added smiling. “Where you go, let me go too...”
###
About the Author
I am a part time writer who lives right up under our Nation’s Capital, as I have all my life. I enjoy the company of a fantastic husband and live within spitting distance of the home I grew up in. I knew my writing might be good when my husband read it outside the bathroom.
Hope you enjoy. Email me if you like at
[email protected]
.
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