Page 4 of Madam Temptress
“Ernie? You okay?” When there was no answer fromErnie, the gorilla paused for a few seconds before yelling again. “Ernie! Where the fuck you at?”
That’s when I saw it. Another figure in the darkness. This one was taller and filled the entire doorway when he stepped into the room.
“Motherfucker, why didn’t you answer me?”
A flashlight turned on, nearly blinding me. The monster shielded his eyes too.
“Because I’m not Ernie, you sick fuck.”
My attacker charged toward the light, but it went dark, and all I heard next was a struggle.
I prayed to God that whoever shined the flashlight was my literal light in the darkness. I shrieked beneath the duct tape, my throat feeling like it had been sliced to ribbons on the inside, and prayed he heard the scream that Ernie said was loud enough to cover six blocks.
Please, God. Please tell me you sent this guy.
God didn’t answer. He never did. Which meant I’d have to wait to see who survived, and if it was the flashlight guy, I hoped like hell he wasn’t here to do something even worse.
I didn’t know how long the thrashing on the floor lasted, but it felt like an eternity. Until finally ... it stopped.
I stayed silent, terrified the one with sour breath was going to stand up and go back to jacking his cock to rape me. But the flashlight came on again.
“You okay?”
My entire body went limp and tears sprang to my eyes. The light moved with him as he came toward the bed, but this time, it wasn’t shining in my face and blinding me.
I mumbled beneath the duct tape, and he flipped the edge of the blanket over my naked body.
Thank you, God. Thank you so fucking much.He wouldn’t cover me if he was going to rape me, would he?
“This is gonna hurt somethin’ fierce coming off. But there ain’t shit I can do about it. You understand?”
I nodded, and he angled the flashlight so he could see what he was doing. His fingertips touched my skin, but instead of shrinking away, I felt no fear.
I felt saved. Like I’d been pardoned from certain death. Like I’d been delivered from the depths of hell itself.
“Okay. One. Two—” He tore it off ontwo.
“Fuck,” I screeched. “Jesus, that stings.”
His voice was deeper than the Mississippi, yet smooth like line-dried satin. “Let me get you a cold cloth. Unless you got ice that ain’t melted yet.”
I couldn’t give a fuck about the stinging on my face, and I shook my head from side to side. “Cut me loose. Please, just cut me loose.”
We both heard it, the desperation cloaking my words.
“All right. I will. Give me just a second.” He reached into his pocket, produced a knife, and a sharp, involuntary surge of panic ripped through my belly.
He must have noticed me jerk back, because he paused, knife in hand. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m just gonna cut you loose. Not gonna hurt you. What’s your name, anyway?”
“Magnolia,” I said, forcing myself to calm the fuck down.
“I’m Moses. And fucking unwilling women ain’t my kink, so you’ve got nothing to worry about right now, okay?”
I swallowed, but my mouth was bone dry. “Okay.”
He sliced through the duct tape at my wrists, and I yanked them apart and drew them to my chest the instant they were free. Holding the flashlight down by my legs, he carefully cut the tape from my ankles. As soon as I was unbound, I rolled off the bed and dove for the shotgun.
“Whoa. Whoa. Hey, now.” He lifted his hands into the air, the knife still clutched in one. “I just fucking helped you. I ain’t here to hurt you. So don’t fucking shoot me, Magnolia.”
