Bryan Smith - The Killing Kind

She moved back a step, but stayed in his arms as she looked up at him and blinked away more tears. “What did the police say?”

Chuck’s expression turned stony. “Police?”

“You did call the cops?”

Chuck shook his head. “No cops.”

“Are you shitting me? You can’t be serious.”

Annalisa snorted behind her. “Oh, he’s serious. We’ve spent the last hour going round and round on this. Got fed up and said I’d call them myself. Would’ve done it, too, except Chuckles here threatened to smash my BlackBerry into a million little pieces. Can’t have that.”

“Why on earth wouldn’t you call the cops? They might have killed you, Chuck.” Zoe started trembling again as she said this. Because it was absolutely true. Chuck could easily have died while she was off screwing and snorting half of Colombia up her nose. The thought brought the enormity of it all home again, causing fresh tears to spill. “Oh, Chuck.”

He cupped her face in his hands. “Hey, look at me. Listen to me, okay? I’m fine. I’m not dead. Sure, I look a mess, but it’s nothing permanent. They got my credit cards and all the cash I had, but I’ve already canceled the cards, and Dad’s wiring some money.” He forced a laugh. “How old-school is that? We’ll have to go to a Western Union. It’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

The crease in Zoe’s brow deepened. “No, it’s not. It’s not funny at all. I want you to call the cops, Chuck.”

“No.”

“Goddammit. Why not?”

“I’m trying to tell you. The money’s covered. And we’re on fucking vacation. I’m not about to let anything ruin that. The way things stand, we can still get to Myrtle Beach today and get on with having a good time. We can put this bullshit behind us and have a great vacation. Or“-a smirk indented a corner of his mouth-“I can call the cops and it’ll become this huge stinking deal.” He shook his head. “Fuck that. Me? I’m ready to hit the road.” He ruffled her hair. “Looks like you had a rough night, too. Take a shower. We’ll grab some breakfast and get moving again. What do you say?”

Zoe stared at him without speaking for a long while. It was clear a part of him really believed in what he was saying. But something still didn’t feel right. He was putting a lot of effort into making this thing go away. It was odd. This was no mere petty theft he’d endured. He’d been violently assaulted.

Still…

Chuck had always been good at talking people into doing things his way, a talent handed down to him from his big-shot father. She had been sure she’d developed an immunity to his manipulations, but now she wasn’t so sure. She wasn’t sure about a lot of things. She stared at his wounds and her heart ached for him. Some remaining ember of the passion she’d once felt for him began to flare back to life. It was stupid, but she couldn’t help it. She looked at his beaten face and wanted to help him heal.

Make him whole again.

She sighed and summoned a smile. “Okay. You win. No cops.”

He grinned, then winced in pain. “Awesome. You won’t regret this, Zoe. I promise.”

He pulled her into his arms again and she hugged him back with all her might. She looked over his shoulder and saw Annalisa’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. There was a look of intense disapproval on her face. Regardless of the sympathy she obviously felt for Chuck today, she just as obviously still didn’t like him. It’d take more than one savage beating at the hands of masked strangers to change that.

Zoe tilted her head and stared at the ceiling.

There was no judgment there.

None she could see, at least.

March 23

He knew what he should do. It was what any sane person would do. He slowed slightly as a side road came up on the right, eyeing the potential path to freedom with a mixture of longing and trepidation. The old Tercel was some twenty yards ahead of him and had already passed the side road. He eased off the gas some more, hanging back a little as he thought about it. He still had time. A few precious seconds. He could whip the Galaxie in that direction, put the pedal down, and be on his way out of this madness. It was a tantalizing thought. He imagined Lindsey, Charlene, and his uncle Bill seeing this situation through his eyes, watching it like a scene in a suspense movie, sitting on the edge of their seats and loudly urging him to take the turn.

The Galaxie rolled past the side road. He spared it one last yearning look and returned his attention to the road ahead. The Tercel had slowed some, too. Roxie was probably watching him in the rearview mirror, waiting to see what he would do. What would she have done if he’d tried to flee? Probably execute a wide, gravel-and-dust-spewing turn and come after him at high speed. She couldn’t just let him go. Could she? He was a witness to several brutal murders. He could testify against her. Put her on death row. Why in hell would she risk that? It made no sense. He thought about it some more as he pushed the gas pedal down and narrowed the gap between the two cars.

He decided he was wrong. What Roxie was doing made no sense from the perspective of a normal, rational person. But she wasn’t normal. Or rational. She was the most reckless person he’d ever met. So in a way, what she was doing made perfect sense. It was part of a larger pattern of wild unpredictability. Also, she seemed utterly fearless and confident. She wasn’t worried about the possibility of Rob calling the law down on her because she was absolutely certain he wouldn’t do that. Didn’t doubt it for even a second.

And the hell of it was…she was right.

He might yet flee. He was still alone behind the wheel of the Galaxie. He wasn’t out of escape opportunities just yet. But even if he ran, he would do nothing more than return to his old life, covering his absence with a story about a wild bender to mollify his friends and loved ones. He would never tell the cops about Roxie or any of the things she’d done. Sure, she deserved to face some kind of justice for those things. And maybe one day that would happen. Hell, it was probably inevitable. She couldn’t run from that long trail of dead bodies forever. But it didn’t matter. Not right here and now. All Rob knew for sure was he would not be the reason it happened.

Not after last night.

Memories of the long evening of carnal indulgence made him shiver with renewed desire. Holy shit. Seriously, holy…fucking…shit. He had been with seven other women prior to Roxie, had no real bedroom complaints about all but one of them (the exception being weird Miss Carmichael, his sophomore English teacher). But nothing in his past matched the sheer erotic intensity of sex with Roxie. She was beyond wild, like a frenzied animal at times, and yet not out of control. She knew what she was doing and was able to manipulate him to the brink and back again over and over. She bruised and wounded his body, leaving scratches and bite marks all over his torso. He got hard again as he thought about what it had been like to penetrate her as she writhed and growled beneath him, her eyes alight with a fierce and intimidating hunger.

Holy ever-loving goddamn…

The Tercel started slowing down.

Rob gave his head a hard shake to clear the erotic memories and tried to focus on the task at hand. They were on a narrow and winding rural back road, a route Roxie had selected after careful consultation of an atlas. The road was very lightly traveled. They had passed only one other vehicle for the last three miles, a lumbering old pickup driven by a hunched-over elderly man. The road wasn’t just off the beaten path, it was the highway to the middle of fucking nowhere. At least it seemed that way. Considering what she had in mind, Roxie had chosen wisely. Of course, what she had in mind was more violent madness and he wasn’t too thrilled about that, but he couldn’t say he didn’t know what he was in for by this point. Nope, he was going into this with his eyes wide open, with the full knowledge that something horrible would be happening very shortly.