“…can’t live without them?”
“I was going to say, ‘Can’t live with them, can’t trust them not to bash your head in when you’re not looking.’”
They both got a good laugh out of that.
“You’re telling me,” Beckard said, and rubbed at the back of his head for effect.
“Anyway, steak’s ready,” Donnie said. “You wanted medium rare, right?”
“Yup. Man, that smells good.”
Donnie walked back around the counter and picked up the fork. “She should hurry up. Hers was ready a while ago.”
“I don’t think she’s coming, Donnie,” Beckard said.
“Huh?”
“Sabrina. I don’t think she’s coming out of the bathroom.”
Donnie stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
Oh, you stupid bastard. You stupid, stupid bastard.
Beckard picked up the shotgun from the counter.
Donnie stared at him, then at the shotgun, before returning his dumbfounded gaze to Beckard. The look on his face said it all. The man didn’t quite comprehend what had happened, what was happening, and what would happen in the next few seconds.
“What I mean is, Sabrina’s dead,” Beckard said. “She’s right. I did kill your girlfriend in the bathroom. Sorry, kid.”
“You…”
Donnie looked across the room at Allie. She felt sorry for him. Stupid, dumb Donnie.
He turned back to Beckard as the realization sunk in. “You killed her? My Sabrina?”
“Yup,” Beckard said, as if he were discussing the weather.
Something burst and Donnie ran around the counter, yelling wildly, raising the fork high above his head to strike. “You fucker!”
Beckard shot him from almost point-blank range and blew a hole through Donnie’s chest, the discharge thundering inside the cabin. The big blond twenty-something flopped to the floor, the fork clattering a split second before an empty shell flew out of the Remington and landed nearby.
Beckard turned around and shook his head, tsk tsking at Allie. “See what you did? I hope you realize this is all your fault.”
He hadn’t finished talking when loud footsteps filled the room, coming from behind her.
Allie managed to roll around in time to see Wade and Rachel racing out of the hallway. Wade, in front, slid to a stop at the sight of Beckard with the shotgun and Donnie’s body half-visible behind the counter.
“What’s going on?” Wade asked, his voice trembling.
Instead of answering with his mouth, Beckard chose to let the Remington do it for him. He fired a shot into the ceiling, the second round nearly as deafening as the first.
Rachel, already hidden behind Wade, screamed and pressed her hands against her ears, as if that would magically transport her away from here.
“Donnie’s dead, and Sabrina’s dead, too,” Beckard said. He walked across the room, the barrel of the shotgun pointed at Wade’s chest. The weapon, like his hand, was amazingly steady. “Stay calm and don’t do anything stupid, and the two of you won’t join them. I promise.”
Allie frantically tried to catch Wade’s eyes.
He’s lying, Wade! He’s going to kill you and take Rachel!
He’s lying! That’s what he does! He lies and lies, until he kills you!
Wade didn’t seem to even remember she was there as he raised his arms into the air. “Okay, okay, whatever you say, man. Don’t hurt us, okay? We’ll do whatever you say, just as long as you don’t hurt us.”
The sound of Beckard’s footsteps had stopped, and Allie rolled back around until she bumped up against a familiar steel-toed boot. She looked up at Beckard, who was smiling down at her, the barrel of the shotgun pointing nonchalantly at the ceiling.
The smug look on his face said everything.
He’d won.
Again.
“Two for the price of one,” Beckard said. “‘Dear Penthouse Forum, I didn’t think it would ever happen to me…’”
Then his expression seemed to change and he narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t say anything for a long time and was content to just look at her. This, she realized, was the first time they had stared so closely at one another, and she could see her own reflection in the orbs of his irises.
“You know, you look familiar,” he said. “Have we met before?”
Chapter 10
“Go to hell,” she said when he pulled the duct tape off.
Beckard smirked. “That’s not very nice. I’m trying to have a conversation with you here.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” Before she could answer, he slapped the tape back into place. “Never mind. I think I know what you’re going to say.” He continued to linger on her face. “I know you, though. I don’t know where. Not yet. But I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
He left her lying on the floor on her side and stood up, then looked over at Wade and Rachel, leaning against each other nearby. Like Allie, their wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape. He had made sure to wrap an extra revolution around Wade just in case the kid proved stronger than he looked. He was tall and gangly and wasn’t anywhere close to Donnie’s hulking size, but there was no point in taking any chances now.
He lingered on Rachel. She must have sensed him staring, because she turned and pushed herself further against Wade in an attempt to hide herself from him.
Beckard smiled. “Relax; it’ll be over soon.”
He headed to the kitchen, stepping over Donnie’s body. The big kid had bled all over the floor, pieces (well, chunks, anyway) of him still clinging to the countertops, drawers, and cabinets. It was pretty messy, but then Beckard was used to working in and around ugly scenes. He would have liked it to be more orderly, but there was no denying that everything had worked out just great for him, even if he did have to get really creative to keep things going for a while there.
But that was over. Done. Two bodies in the cabin wasn’t a big deal. The kids had already told him they weren’t expected back at school until Monday. He was, for all intents and purposes, free and clear to do whatever he wanted for forty-eight hours.
Especially with the girl. She was so his type, too.
Beckard sat down on the stool and picked up the fork and knife and cut into the first steak. He was hungry. Starving. There was nothing like almost dying to ramp up the appetite. It was too bad Donnie had overcooked the meat.
Beggars can’t be choosers.
He ate by himself, humming quietly between bites.
The woman, Allie, was staring at him from across the room, but he chose to ignore her. Like Rachel, she was his type, too, though he usually preferred them a little more, well, less bloodthirsty.
Still, there was no denying it. The blonde hair, the long legs, the perfect cheekbones…
He made his decision while he was eating. He would take Rachel first, then break Allie later. He might even go against his own rules about spending more than twenty-four hours with each girl. He had a feeling he’d need more than that with Allie. She might be worth it, too. It had been a while since he’d had this kind of challenge.
That made him remember his aching side. Christ, it hurt. He really should go see a real doctor. He’d have to come up with a good excuse. A hunting accident, maybe. Some idiot in the woods shot him by mistake, then ran off.
Yeah, that might work…
Beckard sensed her still watching him. He looked up and met her eyes and smiled back at her. That made her look away, but he could see the cogs spinning inside her head in the way she glanced around the cabin while pretending she wasn’t.