Page 62 of Hot For You

When he finished, he said, “Lie down,” then shoved her onto her side.

She gave a muffled groan when her head hit the rear passenger door.

Once again he checked his surroundings as he slid out of the back of the Corolla. He swung her legs onto the bench seat so that her knees were bent and her feet inside the car. He took another zip tie and secured her ankles with it. He picked a blanket up off of the floorboards and spread it over her.

After he was done, he rested his hand on her ass and she shrank away from him. He scowled. He got out and slammed the door shut before going around to the driver’s side and climbing in. He locked all four doors, started the vehicle, and backed out of the parking space.

On the way to his destination, he whistled a tuneless tune and grinned to himself. He’d done it again. Just like he’d had Janice Barnhart, he now had Carilyn Thompson.

He drove up into the Bradshaw Mountains for some time until he was deep in the forest and almost to a couple’s seasonal home that would be vacant until summer. He’d have to find another place once he was finished with Carilyn.

Or better yet, he could set the cabin on fire with her body inside. It was far enough out of town that he could watch it burn for a long time before anyone showed up to investigate it. He’d have plenty of time to enjoy the fire.

When he reached the cabin, he backed the car up to it then climbed out and opened the back door. He grabbed Carilyn under her armpits and dragged her out of the car. He almost dropped her as her lower half landed on the ground, but managed not to completely let her go.

She didn’t fight him as he dragged her out. Clearly she knew it was useless and she didn’t want to cause him to trigger the bomb at the warehouse. He did like a fighter, though, so he hoped she’d show a little spirit when he got down to business.

Her legs bumped along the steps when he dragged her up them, and she whimpered. He’d thrown Janice over his shoulder but had ended up hurting his back, so this would have to do. By the time he got her inside the roomy cabin and had pulled her up into a chair he’d set up earlier, he was sweating like racehorse.

Being a redhead, she had a fair complexion, but she looked even paler than he’d noticed before. Not surprising, he supposed, considering that she’d no doubt seen the videos that he’d uploaded. Of course the contrast of the black blindfold and gag against her pale skin was emphasized.

He shrugged off the tweed jacket and tossed it aside, leaving him in a dirty white T-shirt. He raked his fingers through his sweaty hair, and then braced his hands on his wide hips as he stared at her. It was her fault that she was here. If she hadn’t rejected him when he’d offered to buy her a drink, if she’d considered going out with him, he would never have had to do what he planned to do now. Like Janice, she deserved it.

He got out a piece of chalk, crouched down and drew a large circle in front of her. That was where he’d pour the gasoline. He wanted to extend the amount of time it would take for the fire to get to her. When he finished drawing the circle, he stood.

What was going on in that pretty little head of hers, he wondered as he walked around her and the chair just outside the circle. He took in her disheveled red hair, wrinkled shirt, dusty jeans, and muddy shoes.

He thought about stripping her out of her clothes and keeping her tied up naked, but decided that would be too distracting. The last thing he needed would be to get distracted when there was so much to do. Besides, he wasn’t a rapist and he didn’t molest women—rapists were the lowest of the low.

But you’re a murderer, Nathan, went through his mind in his mother’s voice. That’s as low as you can get.

“No.” He tried to shake off the thought and her shrill tone, but it echoed in his head, over and over again.

You’re a murderer, Nathan… Murderer…

He clapped his hands to either side of his head. “Stop it!” he screamed.

Rage tore through him and he stepped forward and slapped Carilyn so hard she fell off the chair. The gag muffled her cry of pain and surprise.

“Bitch.” He jerked her up and onto the chair, forcing her back onto the seat hard. He grabbed a rope lying near the camera and then bound her from shoulders to waist to the chair. Her wrists were still zip-tied in back of her, and her ankles were still bound. “It’s your fault. Your fucking fault!” he shouted.

With a howl of anger, he jerked off her blindfold. She blinked away the sudden brightness of light in the cabin and stared at him with wide horror-filled green eyes. A red handprint stood out against her pale skin.

As she watched him, he paced the floor, muttering to himself as he kept hearing his mother taunting him. You’re a murderer, Nathan… Murderer…

With another scream, he dropped to his knees on the floor and clapped his hands over his ears as if that might block the sound of his mother’s voice in his head. That old bitch had burned him, left him with a scarred body and mind.

He could feel ropes binding him to a chair and the pain of cigarettes burning into his torso and on the soles of his feet. One time she’d held his hand over a gas flame as he shrieked and sobbed, until his hand blistered. When she was finished, she put burn ointment on the wound and wrapped it with gauze. For a while she left him alone, but then she couldn’t help but use him as her personal ashtray.

How he hated her.

But she was his mother. He loved his mother.

He covered his face with his hands and sobbed.

The fury that overtook him was so great that he started shaking with it. He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and raised it up to show Carilyn.

Her eyes widened with terror and she violently shook her head while crying out at him behind her gag. He watched her as he entered the number to the cell phone at the warehouse and she gave a wordless scream.

---