Irresistible Force (A K-9 Rescue Novel)(47)

She breathed in through her nose, fighting off panic. Her stomach  cramped hard. Angry Shay had deserted her. Whoever was still home was  talking.

"What do you want?"

"That, for sure, is a better question." He did a curious side jerk with his head, like a parrot trying to size up a stranger.

She tensed as his gaze moved from the hood still covering her hair down  over her torso. She could feel his eyes pause, greedy for the feminine  contours of her breasts. She crossed her arms over them. He continued to  ogle her in a familiar way, as if he had done it before and often.

I been watching you all week. Oh God! What had he seen?

"You got any money? And don't lie. I can tell when I'm being lied to. I don't like liars."

Shay looked away, because she couldn't speak while staring into the abyss of those black eyes. "I wish I did."

"Then I guess you can pay me another way."

She felt her face go red as she met his leer. No need to guess what had  entered his mind. Keep him talking. "What do you want money for?"

"For me not to kill you, for starters."

He was looking at her with the blank stare of complete indifference. She was looking into the face of a stone-cold killer.

"You thought I was here to mow your grass for cash?" He grinned for a second then it vanished.

He moved in so close that she could smell the rank pig sweat of a man  who hadn't bothered to change his clothes in days. She looked away as he  reached out and jerked back her hood, wincing when he caught some of  the hair beneath in his fist. He grabbed her chin and jerked her face up  to his.

"Look hard, slut. And think."

The gun loomed up before her. The most hypnotizing thing on the planet, she realized, was the barrel of a gun.

She kept swallowing, again and again, as he bruised her chin with the clamp of his fingers.

"I figure someone owes me. So here's what we're going to do. You can either get me some money or-"

The "or" did it.

She threw up on his expensive sneakers.

"Fucking shit!" He danced out of range in a delicate two-step. "Goddamn it!"

Shay merely shook her head and let the heaves continue, helpless to stop  and yet gaining hope that he'd be so grossed out he'd walk away.

Shay stayed doubled over until the heaves subsided and let the awful  acid burn in her throat remind her that at least she was still alive and  untouched. Then she carefully wiped her mouth and chin with her sleeve.  The feeling of relative safety didn't last long.

He slapped her hard, his palm connecting with the side of her head with  shocking force. She bit her tongue and tasted blood. "Don't do that  again."

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her upright. "I don't like hurting  women. I like women." The tenement row flashed between his lips. "But I  got needs. And needs require money. So you can do me and you a favor and  give me some."

Shay risked everything by looking directly into his empty eyes. "All I have is in my purse."

She held his gaze a long time, longer than she thought possible, as her  knees loosened and threatened to buckle. She understood that what he did  next would be entirely beyond her control.

He dropped her arm. "Might as well check."

He moved backward until he reached the table where he dumped the  contents of her purse. Gaze darting back and forth between her and the  things on the table, he quickly sorted them. Finally, he tore four  singles from her billfold.

"There's nothing here!" His face went dark with anger as he came toward her. "You trying to punk me?"                       
       
           



       

"No! I swear." She grabbed her middle and faked a couple of heaves. Not  surprisingly, he stopped short. Maybe sex in a puddle of vomit didn't  appeal to him. Good.

Shay let out a shaky breath, nothing faked in that.

Her cell rang.

He glanced back at the table. "Who's that? You expecting the cop?"

Lie! She shook her head ever so slightly. "Probably my girlfriend. She's  coming to spend the weekend with me." She pointed a very shaky finger  at the groceries. "That's dinner."

His eyes became slits, narrowed between little pillows of reddened  flesh. After a moment he backed up and rifled through the mess he'd made  until he found her cell phone. She knew who had called by the way his  expression changed when he saw the caller ID. "Fucking bitch!"

She jumped to her feet.

He aimed the gun at her. "You lied to me."

She looked away, her insides tweaking her even though there was nothing left to come up but her boots.

The sound of an incoming text chimed. He glanced at her phone again.  This time he smiled. "Boyfriend says he's on his way. Twenty minutes."

He put the phone in his pocket. "You all excited about that? It's got me  excited." He grabbed his crotch with his free hand. "I won't need  twenty minutes to get you all juicy for him. Move over here and take off  all your shit."

But as he waved her toward him, Shay found her legs wouldn't work anymore. "I-I can't."

He pointed at her left knee with the barrel of his gun. "You can strip or I'll shoot you and strip you. Nicer if you do it."

She nodded and reached for the edge of her sweatshirt. If she got a  chance to run she wouldn't care if she was cold. Cold was better than  …   so many things.

It was no striptease. Between numbing fear and weakness from nausea, she  moved in slow jerky movements. It took her forever to wrestle out of  her sweatshirt. Her Henley shirt clung to her arms damp from flop sweat  as she peeled it off.

She didn't look at him. She would have lost the last of her nerve. What  next? Not her bra. Her jeans? Keep the boots on! If she got the chance  to run she would need her boots.

He is going to kill me. Now. Or later.

The thought struck through her brain like the brilliance of a spotlight.  He was on the clock. James was coming. She would be able to identify  him. He would not allow that.

Now or later.

She had a choice.

"Fuck this! You're taking too long!"

He grabbed her by the arm and shoved the small coffee table aside with  one foot. It struck the tequila bottle and knocked it over, spilling it  on the floor. He jerked her to the center of the rug.

He let her go and then, using the same hand that had dragged her along, he backhanded her across the face.

She wasn't prepared for the violence. It caught her full force, snapping  her chin toward her shoulder as pain ignited from her eye to her  jawline. Too shocked to cry out, she reeled backward.

He caught her by her ponytail and jerked her head back against his  cinder-block chest. He bent his head toward her. She smelled tequila on  his rancid breath.

He tried to kiss her but she opened her mouth and breathed hard into his face.

He recoiled from her vomit breath. "Disgusting!"

She might have smiled if she hadn't been so scared.

He jerked her hair again, this time pulling some of it out by the roots. She cried out in pain, which seemed to satisfy him.

"Get down!"

She went down on her knees to escape the possibility of another blow  that might make her too weak to think. Her thoughts scurried in a  frantic circle. Oh please, oh please! Think of something. Anything.

As she slid past his hips she saw the log lighter. It lay on the hearthstone a few feet away.

He grabbed her by the back of her head and jerked her toward the crotch  of his jeans. He jammed her face against his groin. She felt his hard-on  and the scrape of his zipper as he ground his hips against her cheek.  "Show me how the cop likes it."

Shay stiffened. She felt her gut cramp as it all went watery. "I-I can't."

"Useless cunt." He shrugged and lifted the barrel to her forehead.

She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. Now. Not later. Her choice.

The pain blinded her but the blow from the barrel sent her sprawling on  her back. She let herself fall in the direction of the hearth. Her  choice.

He was on her so quickly the force of his body knocked the breath out of  her. Gasping for air she knew a panicky moment when her grasping hand  met only hard slate. She had lost. She couldn't fight him and win. If he  hit her again she would pass out and all the choices after that, even  to the end of her life, would be his.                       
       
           



       

She went limp beneath him.

Chuckling with satisfaction that he had bested her resistance, he  grabbed the front of her bra and yanked it up over her breasts. With a  grunt of animal lust he grabbed one breast and squeezed it so hard she  moaned in pain.

This seemed to excite him even more. He reared back to reach for her jeans zipper.

Shay turned her face away, as if she could not bear to look at the foul  man straddling her, and opened her eyes. She saw it. The log lighter.  Too far away.