Eight Weeks Missing
“They found blood in Isabel’s bathroom. They found a lot of blood,” Patterson says, scrubbing his tired face with his hand while looking over some documents. “Then there’s your T-shirt covered with more of Isabel’s blood.”
The coffee in my mug is now tasteless and churning in my stomach. “I didn’t kill her,” I say through gritted teeth. “She’s alive.”
He stares at me for a long moment and then closes his eyes, shaking his head. “You know, out of all my clients, you’re the only one I believe is innocent, Hunter.” He throws down the thick pile of papers on my kitchen table. They spread all over and I see how much evidence the prosecution has against me. “They have proof and footage of Isabel in your truck when you were parked in Max’s building’s lot—the day she went missing. I do believe that you didn’t harm Isabel…but others aren’t as sure. They don’t have a body and it’s hard to charge someone with murder without a body. So at least we have that. But you are the prime suspect in her disappearance for various reasons. Your motive is concrete and your alibi is nonexistent.”
“And the cellar?” I told him I kept her captive in my parents’ old wine cellar. He also knows the blood is from when Isabel slit her wrist. All I did was clean her up and bandage her wounds. We’re leaving the kidnapping part out on my behalf. I have yet to tell Patterson that Isabel may be using a forged passport and ID while traveling the world. As crooked as Patterson is, he does know what he’s doing. He said he had people that got rid of anything connecting Isabel to me DNA wise. It makes me shudder with absolute terror to think he helped his clients who are guilty get rid of such things.
“Clean and spotless. Costly, but not even the best of CSI investigators can’t find a hair follicle of Isabel’s. Where exactly do you think Isabel is?”
Shrugging, I lean back in my chair. “I have no idea.”
“This is very serious, Hunter. You could be indicted for murder, rape, and kidnapping. The people of this town have been itching to see a Knight get nailed with something. You have many enemies. This is just perfect. You know that, right?”
Yes. I do know. I know that Sally’s older cousin, Steve Baker, is itching to see me rot behind bars for the lies Sally has spread like a disease. She’s infected everyone.
“Isabel’s alive. I didn’t kill her,” I keep repeating this. I’m repeating this for my own sanity…because it’s starting to feel like I actually did murder her. The blood stained white T-shirt. The blood they found splattered all over the sink I cleaned up or tried to clean up. The pictures of her sleeping in the passenger side of my truck. Isabel’s been haunting me since I freed her.
Mr. Patterson pours more steaming coffee into his black mug and sips at it. “We’re going to get through this.”
***
Charlie and Caleb sit across from me on the white sofa in my living room. I slouch back in my armchair, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner by the door. Hero and Naya are on their way over. They both had to endure long flights. I told them I didn’t want them here while this madness is happening. But, as usual, they didn’t listen to me. Caleb has chosen this time to explain himself yet again. Charlie had no idea about Blue or her mother, his child, Nastya. He did commit to stepping out of his marriage on a trip with his buddies in the late 70s with a woman he could hardly remember. Leave it up to Caleb to drag the skeletons out of the closet and make you have tea with them.
“I think you should at least meet her, Charlie,” Caleb says.
“Yeah. Sure. I have child that I knew nothing about. But, hey. At least this old fart gets to meet his long lost daughter before he kicks it,” Grandpa mutters.
“Charlie this is far from funny,” Caleb admonishes.
“Actually, it is funny. It’s fucking funny you would tell Ivy before you would tell Charlie or me. It’s fucking hilarious.”
“She needed to know, Hunter. I was afraid that—”
“That I would fuck my own cousin,” I finish his sentence. “Well, thank Christ I didn’t.” With that said, I give him my most disgusted expression and stand, taking two steps at a time. I stop half way up the stairs to find Ivy lingering in the corridor.
“Hunter—”
“Don’t,” I mutter, grabbing her elbow and hauling her to my room. “Don’t fucking talk.” I tear off the T-shirt on her back, unhook her bra, push down her sweat pants, and rip her panties into shreds. “All I need is your body right now.”
“It’s yours,” she whispers earnestly as I toss her face down on my bed.
I don’t bother to get completely undress. I shove down my pants and boxers, pulling my dick out. I wrap a hand around it and reach over to grab a condom from my bedside table. “I need you to fight me. I need you to struggle. Safe word if it gets too much. Understand?”
She glances back at me over her shoulder as I roll on the condom. Her eyes are wide and her expression is half-freighted and half-excited. She nervously licks her lips and nods. “Yes.”
“Good.” I stare at her for a brief moment, savoring her building terror and anticipation. Her pupils dilate and her chest begins to heave and swell. I suddenly reach out and grab her ankle. She grips the sheets and tries to kick me off. I ignore this and drag her down to me. She turns on her back and claws at my face. I let her nails mark me, my dick growing harder from the pain and her frantic state. I securely pin her down to the mattress by her neck. “Please. I don’t want this. Let me go.”
She’s adding dialogue.
Fine.
I’ll play along.
“You should have left when you had the chance, little whore. Now I’m going to fuck your pussy raw.”
She makes a pathetic whimpering sound, attempting to kick me off her. She’s strong. But I’m stronger. Gathering both of her wrists in one of my hands, I harshly press them above her head and lean down to stare into the depths of her brewing eyes as I grasp her chin. “If you keep this up, I’m going break your wrists. You’ll be in a lot more pain. So fucking lie back and accept this.”
“Please. Please. Let me go!”
I wedge my knee between her soft thighs and she clamps her legs close, trapping mine. I tsk and slap her tits until they turn a deep shade of rose and swell even more. Her flesh heats under my cruel palm.
Ivy tosses helplessly on the bed. I add pressure to her throat until I constrict her breathing. If I add a little more pressure, I’m sure I can crush her windpipes. She’s going to have bruised throat as well. Her eyes widen in alarm. Ivy feels my strength running through my veins like heavy steel. I can break her. She gasps for air, tears spilling over the sides of her face.
“Release my leg,” I say quietly.
She does and I release the tight grip around her neck without removing my hand completely. Ivy chokes on oxygen as she struggles to breathe. I take this moment and wrench her legs apart and thrust in her.
She’s fucking drenched.
“Take it out. It’s too big,” she rasps in her pained voice. “You’re hurting me.”
I smile down at her, running my finger down her silt to collect her wetness spilling out of her and then I smear her glistening juices across her mouth. “This is what that is for, little whore. Ask me nicely and I might consider it.”
“Please take your monstrous cock out of me. It hurts,” she whispers softly, trying not to grin through her tears.
I pull back and watch myself glide half way out of her. “Okay. I’ll be good boy and take it out.” But I only pull out to ram back into her.
She groans and comes all at once.
Releasing her throat, I place my hands on her hips and begin fucking her with abandonment.
I’m done being nice.
I’m done being gentle.
I’m done playing games.
I thrust into her hard enough that her body lifts off the mattress. She gives me her flesh to devour completely. But it seems like my dick can’t go deep enough and my hands can’t seem to get a tighter grip on her hips.
Ivy’s groans and tearful pleas break through the cement blanket that envelops my brain, pulling me from my beastly brutality. “Are you okay, Hunter?”
“Fine,” I snap, shutting my eyes and finally coming.
I roll off her, landing on my back on the bed and then I knot the condom and toss in a trash bin in the corner. Ivy gives me an inscrutable glance. She has seen one of the many dark sides of me. My dark sides are cut into facets, and there’s no telling which unstable and erratic part of Hunter you’ll get once you ask for him.
Before I can offer an apology of some kind, she hops out of the bed and heads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. I release my pent-up breath when I hear the shower start. My eyes dart to my mobile that glows and vibrates on my dresser. I get up and stare at the name highlighted on my screen.
It’s Chance.
What does he want?