Page 66 of Double Obsession

The blade disappeared into flesh as she screamed in pain. Blood splatter covered his reflection. What little food he had in his stomach traveled up his esophagus, landing on the floor beside him.

Since she still stood, and he was on the ground covered in bile, perhaps his plan had flaws.

Arkansas slapped at the air, and then a hideous grin replaced her shrieks. She slowly turned and pointed the knife at him. “Now, I will make you match me.”

“Holy fuck.” He’d arrived in hell! He attempted to push onto his feet. “Listen to my voice. Remember, both the Duke and I love you.”

He wasn’t fast enough. She hovered above him, the knife on his cheek, her blood dripping into his eyes. She tilted her head. “I already started yours.”

He supposed she meant the cut she’d inflicted earlier. “Babe, you don’t want to mess up my face. Don’t you think I’m handsome?”

She threw her head back and chortled.

He didn’t have time to brace himself for the pain. His skin burned as she split him open. “You motherfucking cunt!”

“Call me babe,” she growled.

“Fuck you.” He spat on her as he fought with the ropes.

“We will match, and I will save you.”

He stared into her shit-colored eyes. “You’re insane.”

“I AM NOT INSANE. If you’re not handsome anymore, those perverts won’t ask to look at your privates, and you will be all mine. And we will have matching love marks.” She smiled.

He wasn’t a genius; he was king of the idiots. The realization that he was about to be permanently disfigured hit with the blinding pain of the next cut.

She removed the knife to slice the air. “No! No! No!”

“Don’t listen to them,” he panted between gasps. “Listen to me.”

“William,” she said, “I need to save you from those perverts so you can go to heaven. Don’t worry. I will be right behind you, and then we can be happy together… forever.”

His “fuck,” was followed by her reverberating howl.

She sliced into him as the rope around his wrists finally released.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hunter’s home sat on the end of the block between its twin and a side street. Charming lampposts lit up the line of historic row houses. If it weren’t for the sleek automobiles parked along the street, one might think they had stepped into the nineteenth century. On any other day, Jenna would have been swept away in author daydreams of horse-drawn buggies that carried ladies in checkered day gowns with bell sleeves and matching spring bonnets.

However, standing on Hunter’s front stoop as her father peered over his shoulder and whispered, “Keep quiet and stay behind me. I’m guessing she’s armed,” jolted Jenna right out of that romantic vision. Shivering uncontrollably, she shoved her hands deep inside her jacket pockets.

Stacie aimed her phone’s flashlight at the door as their father rapped a second time. Just like the last round of knocks, this one also resulted in a flurry of angry barks.

Her father turned the knob. “Shit,” he murmured.

“Let’s kick it in,” Stacie said. “Jenna and I’ve been taking kickboxing.”

The image of Stacie slamming her foot into the massive door while wearing her princess sex shoes would have made Jenna chuckle, if she hadn’t been trying not to hyperventilate.

Sergeant Bob nudged them down the front stoop and around the unattached side of the old brownstone. Stacie’s light showcased three impressive brick stories right out of the Gilded Age. Who would have guessed that Hunter lived in an artsy district? The man never ceased to surprise her.

A second after the admiration flooded through her, Jenna fought the urge to fall onto her knees and howl out her overwhelming emotions.

Her father stopped short and flung out his arm, holding them in place. Stacie nodded and turned the light off. His movements large, he pointed to a ground-level window about a foot away. Although the rest of the house was entirely dark, light shone through the iron bars. He motioned for them to stay put before stepping lightly toward the window. Stacie tried to follow, but his hand shot up. Then his body tensed as he waved his arm wildly.

He strode back through the grass to stand between them. “Stacie, go out to the street, call 911 and tell them to send help. Jenna, stay calm. She has him in the basement and she has a knife.”