In the background, he heard a male voice. "What are you doing, Kimber?"
"My boyfriend wants me to give him a number. It's on the table by the door."
"The biker?"
"How did you know he's a biker?"
Throttle yelled, "Push the fuckin' button!" He hauled ass down the highway.
"He's giving you instructions, isn't he?"
"What? No. Stop it. What are you doing?"
"Babe, push the button. Run if you have to."
A sinister laugh echoed through the phone.
Then it went dead.
Chapter Thirty
"What the fuck are you doing? Let go of me!" Kimber pushed at her professor, but his grip was too tight. "Why'd you hang up my phone?"
"You think I'm stupid? He told you, didn't he?"
"Told me what?"
He chuckled, easing up a bit on her arm. She pulled away and made a mad dash for the alarm system to hit the panic button, but he lunged for her, knocking her against the wall. He was strong, and as she tried to kick and scratch him, she realized she was no match for him.
After she hit him in the chest with her elbow, he took out a hunting knife and brought it close to her throat. "I normally don't bring such a big knife to my targets' homes, but I brought extra security because of the biker."
Dizziness overtook her and her limbs grew shaky and weak. Dr. Redman is the monster who's been killing and raping all the women. And the underwear thing? He's a fucking psycho. Don't panic-that's for later. You have to keep your head straight or you'll never survive.
"How'd you know I was dating a biker?" she asked casually as though they were chatting after dinner.
He licked his lips, his gaze lingering on her chest. "I've watched you all semester." With a strong pull, he dragged her to the bedroom and tied her hands behind her back, his knife aimed at her body the whole time. Then he pushed her on her back.
"Throttle's going to be here any minute, and he's got a lot of his friends coming with him. Please don't do this. It's over. You don't have to do this."
With an incredulous look, he shook his head. "I can't stop. I have to have you. See you in your panties and bra. You don't understand. No one does."
Cold clamminess chilled her to her core, and the sound of her heartbeat thrashed in her ears as she struggled to loosen the ties. No luck. He opened her top drawer, picked up a handful of her undies, and brought them to his nose, breathing in deeply. Softly, he said, "I've been to your house before, when you were at work. I love the lime-green panties I took."
She watched in horror as he took her cherry-red bikini bottoms and sniffed the crotch while he grabbed his erection and moved his hand up and down.
"The biker tried to spoil everything for me, but I didn't give up-I never do. My wife tells me that's one of my strengths. When he had you put the alarm in, it ended my visits when you weren't home. Then he had a series of goons watching you when he wasn't around. It took me a while to figure out how I was going to please you. Then I thought about taking your computer. It was ingenious. And here we are, together … at last." He came over and ran his finger down her the face. "My only regret is that I can't savor you. I know he's coming. It's a shame, but life can't always be perfect, can it, Kimber?"
"You're a fucking sicko. Why do you do this shit? You're not going to walk out of here alive." A primal scream ripped from her throat, and the way his eyes widened, she knew she'd startled him.
He pulled a roll of duct tape from his pocket, cut a piece, held her flailing head still, and slapped the tape across her mouth. "I can't have you making a scene. You understand." He walked back to the dresser and picked up the knife, then came over to the bed. He cut off her T-shirt and bra, then gazed at her breasts as he licked his lips. He put the knife on the mattress and grasped the waist of her shorts. When he started pulling them down, she bent her knees and shoved her legs against him with all her might. Taken by surprise, he lost his balance and fell off the bed. In that second of opportunity, she pushed herself up and ran out of the room.
Her blood pumped as she tried to get to the panic button, her hands tingling from the lack of circulation caused by the tightly bound rope. All she could think of was survival. Just as she reached the alarm panel, she was jerked backward by her arms. The pain ripping through them made her think he'd pulled them from their sockets, but compared to the terror weaving around her nerves, the pain was minimal.
"That wasn't too smart. I pegged you as one of my brighter students." He began pulling her backward to the bedroom.
Frantically, she tried to free her hands, but she couldn't.
She heard loud footsteps on her porch. Her heart leapt as hope replaced terror.
The duct tape across her mouth prevented her from screaming out. With renewed vigor, she kicked behind her, hitting his shin. He released her and she dashed to the front door, throwing her body against it.
"Police. Open up!" The loud voice cut through the wooden door. Once again, she threw herself against the door.
Then the madman yanked her by the hair and dragged her to him. It felt like her scalp was ripping away from her skull.
When they entered her bedroom again, she heard the front door splinter. Then the rush of footsteps. He released his grip and she dashed out, tears streaming down her face as she gazed into the faces of several deputies.
He was behind her, the knife blade cool on the back of her neck.
"Sir, put the knife down," one of the deputies said.
"Stay away or I'll kill her." His voice hitched. He whispered against her hair, "I needed you." He pushed her forward a bit and let out a despairing scream as he plunged the knife in the base of her neck.
Searing pain tore through her and she screamed against the tape, her eyes tearing. As blood seeped out from her wound, dizziness overcame her, and she began to go down. It was in that moment that she saw Throttle pushing his way in, his face tight and blanched.
She slammed face down on the hardwood floor.
And then everything went black.
Chapter Thirty-One
Through the haze of the night, Throttle followed the flashing lights until they turned into the ER driveway at Pinewood Springs Hospital. He secured his bike and ran inside only to be stopped by security.
"Sir, you can't go back there. You have to wait in the lobby."
"Fuck that. My woman was stabbed. I need to be with her." He rushed through the metal detectors, the alarms beeping at a high pitch. When he came up to the massive metal doors that led to the emergency area, he reached a roadblock-the doors were locked.
The security officer ran over to him. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back out. I need to check you for weapons."
"Fuck off!" Throttle pounded on the metal doors. "Open the goddamned doors!" From the corner of his eye, he saw the technician pick up the phone. Figuring she was calling the badges, he decided to calm the hell down; if he got a courtesy ride to the town jail, he wouldn't be there for Kimber. He whirled around. "Where do you want me to go?"
The security guard's face relaxed a bit. "You have to go back out and come through the detectors again."
Throttle followed him and placed his chains, rings, money clip, belt, and pocket knife in the yellow basket. He took off his biker boots, then walked through without setting off the detector. He'd left his gun and two knives back in the saddlebags in his Harley; he didn't have time to fuck around with the badges over a few simple weapons.
As he slid his belt in the belt hoops, a round-faced woman with short hair smiled at him. "Who are you here to see?"
"Kimber Descourts. She was just brought in."
"Let's have a look." She stared at the computer screen. "Yes, she's being put into a room right now. I'll let you know when you can go back. Please have a seat."
Not able to stay still, Throttle paced the length of the room, his eyes darting to the large wall clock every few seconds.
On his tenth lap around the waiting room, Hawk and Cara came through security with Banger and Rags behind them. A warm feeling spread through him when he saw his brothers. He tilted his chin to them.
"Do you know anything?" Cara asked.
He shook his head, and Hawk, Banger, and Rags came over and clasped his shoulder, striking their chests with their fists in a show of solidarity. Throttle returned the gesture. Cara brought him a cup of coffee and he gulped it, the bitterness making his lips pucker. They sat in silence, the three men staring at the television on a shelf in the corner of the room while Cara leafed through a magazine.
Images of Kimber's face, bloated from fear, and the blood streaming down her shoulders assaulted him. If he'd only been there with her, none of it would've happened. She was his woman and he was supposed to protect her, but he'd failed her. Over and over his mind played out the events-he couldn't stop the images. He sat with his elbows propped on his thighs, his head in his hands. After a few minutes, he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked up into Hawk's face.