Page 187 of Deep Cover

"Pick your tool." My voice was rough. All the need and fear were right there.

She crawled from the bed, ran to the cabinet, came back with her tool of choice. Designed, insanely, by someone who sold them on an online arts site, independent artists and, apparently, freelance freaks. Who knew? An eight inch paddle not including the handle, hardwood and decorated with what looked like four plastic flowers but which were each a circle of spikes, rubber I thought, hard and sharp and wielded with force - it was a fearsome weapon.

"On your knees," I ordered her and she dropped where she was. "Hands behind your head. This time, I want you to count."

Tell me you've found her.

Truth to tell, I'd been with Ariel less than thirty minutes. Beaten her, fucked her, didn't hold her this time. Left her crying in a ball on the bed.

No time. I wanted to get back to communications.

It had only been thirty minutes. But maybe someone would have found something.

And in all honesty, I was afraid of being with Ariel any longer. I was afraid of what I might do to her.

Afraid of what I might become of her if I didn't find Annie.

Heading back to communications, I ran.

---