Allison Brennan - Killing Fear

Romeo and Juliet. Robin wasn’t dead, not yet. Glenn wanted him to think she was, so Will would do something stupid, blinded with grief. But Will knew Glenn wanted to kill Robin in front of him. That would buy him precious time.

Glenn had the opportunity to kill Robin in her apartment. Why didn’t he?

Because Will wouldn’t have found her. Mario would have seen her body first. That wouldn’t have given Glenn any satisfaction. He planned on taking Robin somewhere where only Will could find her body.

Hurry home, William.

“Commander Blade, take me to my house. Now.”

Robin’s head throbbed and though she tried to keep alert on the drive, she knew she had passed out for at least a few minutes. When she woke, they were parked in an area that seemed familiar. It wasn’t until she was out of the car, heard the waves rolling up the quiet beach, and recognized the row of closely built homes, that she knew exactly where she was.

Will’s place.

Glenn pulled Robin across the middle of the front seat and out his door. He had a bag slung over one shoulder, and she didn’t want to think about what was in it. Knives? Bleach? What had he planned for her? He was parked two houses away, and kept a knife at her back to prevent her from screaming. She was just as fearful of other people’s lives as she was of her own. If someone tried to help her and Glenn killed them…she didn’t want to think about it.

But the street was empty. Nearly midnight on a wet Sunday night. No one to help. No one to see her struggle.

She opened her mouth to scream and his hand covered her lips. She bit him. He continued to hold her tight.

“Whoa, girl, save the festivities for bed.”

Bed? What did he plan on doing? Raping her? She almost laughed. Rape? This was all about power? Control?

Of course it was. Ever since he walked into the club, a year before he killed Bethany, he’d been trying to control Robin. His quiet manipulation. The way he watched her. The women he dated-all friends she cared about.

He’d always been trying to control her. And his lack of control over her had set him off.

She struggled. She was strong, a dancer, a fighter. She could run fast, faster with her life in danger. Just get away…

She kicked back, connected with his balls, and pulled away from him.

He grabbed her leg and yanked hard. She hit the grass, her head bouncing off the ground. If he hadn’t hurt her earlier, she might have had the strength to get away. Dammit, Robin!

She struggled and cried out and he put a long piece of duct tape across her mouth.

Before she knew it she was inside Will’s place.

The last time she’d been here was the day he asked her for the second time if she had been sexually involved with Theodore Glenn. She’d walked out right after that, never to look back except in her dreams.

The house was the same, for the most part. A few pieces of furniture looked new, but he still had the barely worn white Berber carpeting. One thing that drew her eye was a familiar painting hanging on the main living room wall.

It was one of hers, a piece Isabelle had sold over a year ago.

A rush of emotion filled her. For a split second, warmth and love strengthened her.

She would survive. She had to, not only for Will but herself. To keep the rare love they had alive and burning.

Glenn slammed the door shut, bolted it.

“We’re home, Robin.”

She struggled against the duct tape. He removed it in one pull and she gasped from the pain.

“I saw you fuck him right here.” He pulled her through the living room, past her painting, to the small dining table next to the kitchen. “I stood on his patio and watched. You couldn’t see me because it was dark. That night I killed Jessica. That night I imagined killing you.”

She swallowed uneasily. She remembered that night with Will. They’d been desperate lovers, so needy for each other. They hadn’t waited to go upstairs. The clothes came off and they made love on the table.

It made her physically ill to know that her sexual relationship with Will had been observed and exploited. Glenn had watched them here, at the bar, where else? How could she have been so blind to his obsession before?

“You couldn’t get off on your own, you had to watch other people having sex?” she spat out, bracing for a blow.

Instead he laughed. “You like to perform. You knew all along I was there.”

“Like hell I did!”

“You fucked him for me.”

“I love Will.”

Glenn’s face reddened, and he said in a low growl, “Really. That’s why you’ve had such a successful relationship for the last seven years. Remember, I had a spy on you. But I know Will is obsessed with you.”

“You’re the obsessed freak.”

“I would have gotten away with all of it if someone hadn’t fucked up that crime scene.”

“What?”

“You identified me off that sketch, all because you didn’t like me,” he said, angry.

“It was you.”

“But the cops had nothing on me,” he said as if she hadn’t spoke. “Nothing. The evidence was thrown out after I killed Bethany, and there was nothing to tie me to Brandi or Jessica.”

“Except someone caught you leaving Brandi’s house!”

“That was your lies. And I had an alibi for Jessica.”

“A drunk cop who fell asleep. You took the damn picture!”

He laughed, played with the knife in his hands. “But I didn’t kill Anna. Someone planted evidence after killing her. And that is what sent me to prison. I should never have been convicted. My plan was brilliant. Perfect. They’d never have caught me.”

She shook her head. “All this because I wouldn’t sleep with you?”

He backhanded her so fast she didn’t realize it until she was on the floor, tasting blood in her mouth.

“You thought you were better than me. I would have made you a queen. I would have taken you out of that pathetic strip joint and made you somebody. But you would rather flirt with seventy-year-old drunks than a young, virile man like me.”

“I’d rather flirt with anyone than a twisted fuck like you.”

She pulled herself onto her knees, shook her head to get rid of the ringing.

“You think you’re so smart. Bethany thought you were-and I quote-‘a total bitch’ because you told her she shouldn’t be sleeping with customers. And Brandi was jealous-she wanted your body, your hair, your attitude so badly. She wanted to be you.”

“You’re wrong.” Robin pulled herself up and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“She was six years older than you, already on the downswing. She wanted me because I made her feel young and sexy. You should have seen her face when I tied her up. At first she thought it was just another sex game and she got excited. Until I carved into her tits. She was the first I used bleach on. Do you know what it feels like when bleach is poured on an open wound?”

Robin couldn’t help but picture Brandi lying tied to her bed, bleach poured over fresh wounds. She shuddered uncontrollably.

Glenn opened his bag and Robin jumped, swaying. Tried to run, but her head felt thick. He easily grabbed her, yanked her arm toward him and made a shallow two-inch cut on her forearm. She screamed out. He held her arm while he pulled out a small jug of bleach, pushed down on the cap, twisted, and it popped off.

“Feel for yourself, Robin.”

She screamed when the caustic liquid hit her open wound. Glenn grabbed her mouth and held tight. She bit him, tears streaming down her face from the pain. He didn’t let go.

“You thought you were better than me. That you could get rid of me. Never, Robin. From the moment I saw you, we had a bond. I would have been the best lover you ever had. I would have taken care of you. I’m rich, Robin, and I was rich then. Still, you shunned me. For what? A loser cop?”