Mine(16)

“Where’s the surgeon?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about him,” Dr. Damore said. He reached out and touched my cheek, tilting my chin upward.

Then he kissed me, and I fell against his chest as he pulled me into the embrace. His lips were soft, and the stubble on his chin grazed mine. His arms circled around me, and I felt as though I was being lifted up. Like I was floating. Heat thrummed through my body and I felt myself clench with desire, despite myself. Oh, Lord, he knew how to kiss. His lips pulled and pushed in equal measure, and my body responded like a candle flame responding to wind, instantly letting him take me where he wanted to go.

His mouth moved down my chin, his lips against my neck now. Wherever he kissed me, my skin burned with delight. I felt dizzy; the world outside was spinning.

“Dr. Damore,” I murmured, putting my hand on his chest. His arms were locked around me, his muscles taut. I pushed away slightly, but he didn’t react at all. “Please.”

“So beautiful,” he said, his mouth still against my neck.

“Hey,” I said, struggling now to push away. His arms, though, were like a vise around me. I couldn’t get out. “Hey, don’t… come on. I can’t… we can’t do this.”

“Such a shame,” he murmured. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel his hardness against me. Then he twisted my arm behind my back in one motion. I gasped as his other hand came up, holding a syringe. My heart pounded. What was going on? What was he doing? I squirmed in his arms but he had me pinned tightly against him. I couldn’t even move.

“Hey!” I cried. “Wait! Stop!”

“I’m sorry, dear Mrs. Steadhill,” he said, and then I felt a pinch on the side of my neck. Then, nothing.





CHAPTER EIGHT

Rien

Mrs. Steadhill. Not the most faithful of wives. I wouldn’t kill a woman for that, not alone. But it made me feel a bit better about injecting her with a sedative.

Unlike her husband, she was out instantly. The sedative I gave her was fast-acting and fast to wear off. She would be awake again in a minute, probably about the same time as her husband. Just in time to watch him die. For now, though, she was my sleeping beauty.

She slumped into my arms, her head lolling as the sedative took over. I laid her on the floor and pulled the second operating table alongside her husband’s before picking her back up in my arms.

Her curves felt so tender under my hands as I carried her over to the operating table. I placed her gently on the table and left her there, then moved over to her husband and pulled his straps tight. One over his head. Two straps for each leg and arm. Another across the pelvis that would keep him from twisting or bucking when I operated. Then I strapped her down, being a bit more gentle. I caressed her hip as I pulled the strap across it, making sure to adjust the sheet so she would be comfortable when she woke up. I straightened out her hair on the pillow before adjusting the strap across her brow line. Then I changed my mind. She would need to move her head so that she could see her husband while I worked. I would strap her head down later, and gag her then too. I checked her eyes for dilation. One unfocused pupil stared up at me.

Strange. I bent down to see what it was, and realized that she was wearing contacts. Carefully, I slid the contact lens to the side of her eye. So. She had green eyes, not blue. If the eyes were windows to the soul, hers were fake. All fake. I slid the contact lens back in.

Normally that would disgust me, but I felt none of my usual disdain as I looked down at her. I didn’t know what it was about her that drew me to her. Perhaps it was that she had noticed my sculpture. Was I that vain?

Yes, maybe I was.

She stirred a little, a soft gasp escaping her lips. I smiled. She would be awake soon enough. It was time to wake up hubby and get started with the surgery. Turning back to him, I inserted the adrenaline injection into the IV. Then I tied the gag around his mouth. I didn’t like to gag unconscious patients—they tended to choke to death—but he was on his way out of sleep. Soon his breathing grew faster and his eyes opened.

“Hello,” I said, looking down at my victim. “Change of plans, Mr. Steadhill. I’ll be your surgeon today.”



Sara

“MMMMM!”

Everything was warm and fuzzy. The way it felt after I’d had two too many glasses of wine with dinner. The lights overhead were bright, though, and I tried to raise my hand to cover my eyes. It wouldn’t move; there was something holding it down.

“MMMMHHHMMM!”

That noise. What was that noise?

I blinked and saw fuzzy white dots floating in my vision. Everything was white. Beautiful. I thought I might have died and gone to heaven.