Page 101 of Silent Scream
I smiled. Of course she did. The real question was, how much. Past transactions posted a figure in my head. It would be the price of an abortion and a little extra. The normal cost of doing business.
I remained silent, using the most powerful negotiation tool available.
She tipped her head and waited. She knew it too.
‘How much?’ I asked, indulgently. There was something about this girl.
‘Enough.’
I nodded. Of course I would give her enough.
‘Is five hundred …’
‘Not even close,’ she said, narrowing her eyes.
It had been worth a low opening bid. One never knew. It had worked twice before ...
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Five grand or I'm opening my mouth.’
I laughed out loud. That was more than a little extra. ‘Abortions don't …’
‘I ain’t having a fucking abortion. No way. I want money to get away.’ She patted her stomach. ‘To start again.’
No way in hell was that going to happen. I am a reasonable person. I knew that if she were to make accusations right now she would not be believed; with a walking DNA match I would never be free. The date stamp of its birth would be a constant threat.
That baby could never be born.
I nodded my understanding. I needed time to think; time to prepare.
Later that night I was ready.
‘We really should part with a drink,’ I said, pouring a generous measure of vodka into a dribble of Coke.
‘You got my money?’ she asked, raising the glass.
I nodded and patted my top pocket. ‘What are you planning to do?’
‘I'm gonna go to London, ger a flat and a job and then goo back to school and get some qualifications.’
She continued to talk and I continued to top up her glass. Twenty minutes later her eyes were hooded and her words were slurred.
‘Come with me, I want to show you something.’ I offered my hand. She ignored it, stood and fell back down. It took a few moments for her to attempt it again. This time she weaved towards the door like a dog on an agility course. I stepped ahead and opened the back door. The sudden gust of fresh air sent her falling into me. I steadied her but her legs buckled forward and she fell to the ground.
She laughed as she tried to push herself up from the floor. I laughed with her as I grabbed her by the upper arms and marched her across the grass.
Twenty-five paces north west and I dropped her. She fell into the hole on her back. She chuckled again. So did I.
I knelt in the pit beside her, my hands at her throat. The feel of her skin against my palms was arousing, even as she tried to swat my hands away. Her eyes were closed and she writhed beneath me in a semi-conscious state. The move of her hips and the swell of her breasts was hypnotic. And could not be ignored. The flimsy shorts were ripped away with one swift movement and immediately I was inside her.
Her body was pliable in my hands as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She moved as though in a dreamlike state. There was no struggle like the first time.
When I stood her eyes had rolled backwards. I crouched beside her in the limited space and reached for the ripped shorts. They were mine to keep forever. They would help me remember.
My hands once more found her throat. My thumbs hovered above her larynx but they just wouldn't press. Her pretty face still smiled from the stupor.
Frustrated, I jumped out of the hole. The first shovel of dirt landed on her torso. She still didn't open her eyes.
