Horrible.
“You didn’t have to kill them, Eddie.”
Eddie didn’t even look at her or the dead couple he’d made her help him drag to the steps leading down to the basement. “And what was I supposed to do? Keep them around so grandma could make you cookies and grandpa could teach you to play euchre?”
“What’s euchre?”
He shot her an annoyed look, and she figured he wasn’t going to answer.
“You said something about the FBI. They aren’t coming here, are they?”
“The FBI is far too worried about your sister.”
“Risa? Is she okay?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Of course, I don’t.”
“She doesn’t care about you.”
Nikki knew that. She’d suspected it since her sister had left to live with her father. And the way Risa had reacted to Nikki’s happiness at marrying Eddie had made her certain.
But hearing Eddie say it still hurt.
“I’m the only one who cares about you, Nikki. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She managed a nod. Maybe he did care. She’d like to think so. But watching him kill these nice people… She was no longer sure he was the best thing.
Oh God, what was happening to him? To her? To everything she thought she knew?
“What is your problem?”
Nikki stepped back from the venom in his tone. “Nothing.”
“I just told you I cared. Is this any kind of way for a wife to act?”
“No, no, I’m sorry. All this… it’s just been so upsetting.”
“You’re having doubts. I can tell. You’re having doubts about us.”
“No, no Eddie.” But she was having doubts. More than doubts. Nikki felt as if she was losing her mind.
“I’ve taken care of you Nikki. I’ve loved you. All this…” He gestured at the house, the furniture, the dead bodies, as if they were the same thing. “I’ve done it for you. To provide for you.”
“I… I didn’t want you to—”
“Didn’t want me to what?”
“Kill.”
“That’s on you.”
“What?”
“I could get along just fine. But a wife needs a place to live, to call home. You expect me to stop by the local bank, Nikki? Do you want to send me back behind bars?”
Nikki shook her head.
“You need to apologize.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not good enough, after what you’ve done to me.”
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Eddie, we can talk, I’m really sorr—”
“Take your clothes off now, or I’ll cut them off.”
Tears clouded Nikki’s vision. She tried to unbutton the red silk blouse, her fingers shaking so badly she couldn’t grasp the buttons.
“You don’t do justice to that blouse, anyway. Too flat chested. Definitely not like your sister.”
A few hours ago, that would have cut her. Now she barely felt it. Eddie wasn’t who she thought he was. Not at all. He wanted her naked now to what? Humiliate her? Make love to her?
Kill her?
And there wasn’t anything Nikki could do to stop it.
“I said now.” Eddie grabbed the blouse and yanked. Buttons popped, fabric ripped, and she stood exposed from the waist up. He pulled his knife from his pocket and opened the blade. “Take off the jeans.”
She did as he said. When she was finally naked, Eddie turned away. “Go upstairs and get ready for me.”
Nikki clung to the railing, taking one step at a time, her knees barely holding her up. She’d escaped him, for a moment. But she’d made Eddie mad. Things would get worse. They always did. Her only chance was to do what he said. Try to make him happy. Hope the storm would blow over.
Nikki might not know how a loving relationship worked, but she was good at this. At least she was getting good at it. She knew what to do.
She had just taken her place on the queen size bed when Eddie burst into the room. He held long pieces of clear wire in his hands, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized they were probably speaker wires from the living room downstairs.
He didn’t say a word, just started winding the wire around her wrists and tying her to the headboard. He fastened her ankles to the footboard, her legs wide, then stood back, as if to survey his work.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. Let me make it up to you.”
“You want to make it up?”
“Yes. I love you. I don’t want to fight.”
“You sure can be a bitch.”
“I’ll try not to do it again.”
“It’s miracle I put up with you.” He dipped a hand in his pocket, pulled out his knife and cell phone, and set them on the bedside table. Then he climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Hands planted on either side of her head, he straddled her, staring into her eyes.
“You’re still dressed,” Nikki said. This was the way to calm him. Give her body to him. Give her pride. Give whatever he wanted.
She knew how to play this game.
“Trying to make me happy, Nikki?” he asked, lowering his weight on top of her, his mint-scented breath fanning her face.
“Of course. You’re my husband.” She braced herself, waiting for him to kiss her. But instead of claiming her lips, he rasped his cheek against hers and whispered in her ear.
“I never wanted you, Nikki.”
She couldn’t stop the whimper, deep in her throat.
“You never impressed me. I’ve seen prettier, and you’re not very smart. This has all been about your sister. She said things about me. Things that weren’t nice. And now I’m going to make her pay.”
Nikki recoiled. Too late.
His teeth closed on her ear lobe. They cut into her flesh, pop, pop, pop, severing each layer of skin. A wave crashed over her. Cold, then pain, then the warmth of her own blood.
Eddie spat on the sheet beside her, and when he drew back and grinned at her, his lips were so red it looked like he was wearing lipstick. “I have a party to crash, so I’ll have to hunt you later. But don’t worry, I’ll give your love to your sister.”
He gave her the kind of grinning wink she’d once found charming, then climbed off the bed and left the room.
Risa
By the time the morning sun reached through the window and awakened Risa from her dreamless sleep, Trent was already gone. She breathed deeply, savoring the scent of his body lingering on the sheets, the memories of his loving lingering in her heart.
He’d needed her last night. Needed her as much as she’d needed him. To soothe his pain. To remind him of what life could be—sweet, loving, gentle. To give him a respite, however short, from the evil and death he lived every day.
The life he would go back to once Dryden was captured.
Why couldn’t Trent see how much better their lives would be if they were together? How much stronger they would both be? If only he had felt the strength surging through them, joining them last night. The strength she had felt.
Maybe he had.
She was almost afraid to hope. Drawing a breath of courage, she folded back the covers and crawled from the bed. She didn’t have time to hole up in bed and wallow in a litany of questions and “if only.” Trent had likely been up for hours, if he’d slept at all. Either something had happened or he was sorting through FBI files, searching for evidence that could lead to Dryden’s whereabouts. Either way, she intended to help. Whether he liked the idea or not.
Risa dressed quickly. The aroma of coffee drifted to her the moment she opened the guest room door, beckoning her to the kitchen below. She padded down the stairs, the hardwood cool on her bare feet.