Patricia Rosemoor: Skin

The car…

Finally able to take a deep breath, she held her hands palm out toward him and backed up toward his car.

She calmly said, “You’re wasting your time.”

“You deaf or just stupid?”

“You’re wasting–“

“Don’t bother with that interrupt his script crap. Now strip!”

“Or you’ll what? Kill me?” Lilith backed up further and wedged her bottom on the edge of the rear seat. “Do it and you’ll never get all my blood out of this car.”

The night sky was bright enough that it lit his face, now pulled into a mask of pure evil as he said, “No one will have reason to look in there.”

If he came for her to drag her out again, she had a chance. “They will after Caresse talks. She’s the undercover cop working the case. But you already know that. What you don’t know is that she’s alive, Gabe. I found her where you left her in that trash bin and got her to the hospital before she bled out.” And then she lied. “She already fingered you, and Pucinski has the task force tracking you down.”

“Bullshit!”

But she could tell that he didn’t know whether or not to believe her. Pucinski had said Caresse — Carrie — was going to live. So she would be able to finger him.

“That’s how I knew it was you, Gabe. Pucinski told me she’d been working undercover for weeks and that you had nothing to do with the case. Then it all clicked for me. The reason you kept trying to warn me off. That little demonstration at the Street Survival class.”

With a frustrated growl, Gabe lunged forward to grab Lilith, keeping the rifle out of her range. Exactly what she’d beenwaiting for. On the seat and at an angle under him, she snap-kicked, her foot glancing off his groin. Not a solid hit, but enough to slow him down.

“Bitch!”

Flying up out of the seat, she grabbed the rifle and tossed it into the car, then lunged at him, hands striking. He was already recuperating. He dodged and grabbed her, and pulled her down to the forest floor. Before he could get a good grip on her, she pulled away from him.

On her butt facing Gabe, resting her weight on her hands on the ground in back of her, Lilith kept him at bay with raised legs. He pulled his knife. Tried to get at her. But no matter which way he feinted, she spun on her rear, ready to kick, to shatter a knee if he got close enough.

“What’s the matter, Gabe, don’t want to chance getting hurt?”

“You shouldn’t taunt a killer, Lilith. You ought to reconsider your attitude. Now I’m going to make you suffer.”

“Like you didn’t make the others suffer.”

“They only got a taste.”

“Then come show me.”

He lunged, knife-hand first. She kicked out at the weapon. Missed. The knife ripped through her leg. Lilith cried out and Gabe laughed. Blood soaked her exercise pants. He lunged again. She kicked with her other foot, this time making contact with the knife and scrambling after it where it landed.

Gabe threw himself on top of her and flattened her. He punched her in the face. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

An easy flip and he got behind her, wrapped an arm around her neck. He was cutting off her air, which came in striated gasps. She was struggling to breathe and losing the battle.

Think! she told herself, while trying not to panic.

She forced her fingers to the ‘v’ inside his elbow, gouged his flesh and pulled down with all her strength. His hold slackened. She tucked her chin inside his elbow so he couldn’t strangle her.

Quick as lightning, she slid her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, along his neck, anchored her fingers around his ears and went for his eyes with her thumbs. He jerked his head away. Her nails scraped one of his eyeballs and left bloody trails down his cheek.

Gabe screamed and ripped himself away. Lilith scooted out from under him, grabbed the knife and stuck it in her pocket. Then limped to the car. The cut on her leg burned like hellfire. By the time he got to his feet — demented and one-eyed — she had hold of the rifle she’d taken from him. Pointing it at him, she said, “Now it’s your turn, Gabe. Strip.”

“What the –?”

“DO IT!”

“You’re crazy!” Maybe she was crazy.

She was so seeing-red furious that it burned away any remaining fear.

The bastard had tried to kill her. He’d tortured and beaten her sister and Carmen. She didn’t even know if Hannah would survive. And he’d scalped the two women he’d murdered.

The only thing she could think about was giving him a taste. And as she raised the rifle to her shoulder, she saw his expression shift when he realized she would shoot him if he didn’t do as she ordered.

His finger fumbled with the buttons on his hunting jacket and shirt.

“How does it feel knowing you’re going to be hunted like an animal?” she asked. Guilt had motivated her to find Hannah and ID him. Revenge was a stronger motivation, and she certainly had reason enough. “Does it give you a curl of anticipation deep down inside? Or are you terrified like they must have been?”

“You’re just like the others. You don’t have the stomach for it.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Gabe. I survived three years under the thumb of a bastard like you. And then I made sure I would never be any man’s victim again. Face it. You’ve met your match.”

His chest was now bare. He hesitated as if he was rethinking things. She aimed at his right arm and shot. The bullet ripped through the outer flesh and passed through, leaving a new splatter of blood.

“Bitch!”

“Don’t fuck with me, Gabe. Faster!”

Gabe stripped off the rest of his clothes, wincing when he moved the wounded arm. “You don’t want to do this to me. I can take you, remember. I can make it worse than you ever dreamed.”

“You didn’t let me win that match in class,” Lilith said, then, when he was naked, she stared at him and shook her head. “You don’t even look like much of a man to me.”

PUCINSKI BRAKED his car with a screech mere feet from a Forest Preserve entrance sign. “This is the place.

“It better be,” Wyndham said. “Go!”

Pucinski aimed the car on the road to the parking lot, but as the beams swept along a curve…

“There!” Wyndham pointed. “Tire tracks across the grass.”

Pucinski followed the trail left by O’Malley’s car. He flashed his beams on bright until he spotted it, doors open. He jumped out of the car and saw the signs of a struggle. And found a pile of men’s clothing, just as the squad car pulled up behind him.

A shot echoing through the trees made him jump. “Son of a bitch!” He looked to Wyndham.

Without a word, they both ran all-out into the stand of trees, the uniformed officers following.

LILITH HELD the rifle. Waited. Listened to the thrashing sounds ahead. Ignored the pain telegraphing from the cut on her leg. Anger still fueled her, made her feel bulletproof.

She’d given him a ten-second head start.

Five to go.

She gave him three. Took off, followed the sounds of his running feet deeper into the woods. When they stopped, so did she.

Where was he?

Guarded, she made her way forward, slowly swinging the rifle in an arc. She might be the hunter, but she was cautious. Eyes wide, breathing shallow, she licked her lips as she swung her gaze around her surroundings. She might know how to use the weapon, but this was his territory, not hers. So many trees and bushes. So many places to hide.

As her rage settled down, she could hardly believe what she’d done, not in successfully defending herself, but in turning the tables on Gabe.