Jerry wrapped his sinewy arms around her and started unfastening her bikini top. His face wore a cool, calculating reserve as he spoke.
“Don’t fight it, Ann. You will enjoy this.”
Ann squirmed and managed to slip thorough his arms. Her head went underwater and in seconds she surfaced on the other side of the hot tub. In a flash, Rankin waded over in two strides and grabbed her by the ankle as she attempted to climb out.
“Please, Ann! Don’t try anything like that again. Do you understand?” he snapped, his face taut with rage.
Before Ann could respond, he said, “I don’t understand you women. I’m especially disappointed in you, Ann. Why are you fighting it? Take a look at me, Ann. Take a good look! I’m not some ugly asshole with shit for brains, now am I? I’m a hunk, for chrissakes! And a hunk with brains, no less! We are supposed to be fucking right now and you’re going to fucking enjoy it! And afterwards, you’re going to gaze lovingly into my eyes and tell me that you want to spend the rest of your life with me because I’m everything that you’ve ever dreamed of. The book, Ann! You’re not following the goddamn script! Get with the program-we’ve made it this far-don’t fucking let me down now!”
Ann was utterly speechless. Her head was spinning wildly. She couldn’t feel anything for a moment-she was absolutely numb and thunderstruck at the same time.
“What are you talking about, Jerry?” she finally managed to say.
He let out a laugh-a sinister guffaw. “That stupid fucking romance novel you’ve been reading for the past three weeks! A Second Chance for Madeline. I planted it in your house. I knew that you’d read it of course-my only concern was whether or not you would question where it came from and how it got there. A calculated risk, you might say. But my hunch was right. You assumed that it was Amy’s book and you never even asked her about it. Another good hunch on my part. You can’t even communicate with your own daughter because you’re afraid of upsetting the spoiled brat! You’re just as stupid and naive as every other wench in this world, Ann. Had me fooled, I can sure tell you that! And to think of all I’ve done for you, just to win your heart and jump your bones. Jesus, what does it take for a guy to get laid in this life?”
Ann’s heart was palpitating as she stood there facing him, her wrists being nearly crushed by his vise-like grip. Her body trembled in the chilly air of the solarium as she attempted to rationalize what Jerry Rankin was saying.
He had planted that book. She had assumed that it was Amy’s book. She had read the book and related so well with the character in the story and had been amazed at how similar the story line followed her relationship with Jerry Rankin…
He had planted that book, knowing somehow that she would read it… Then he had proceeded to play her like a fiddle-right into his trap!
But why? Just so he could rape her? But he hadn’t wanted to rape her at first. He had wanted to simply make love to her-to have her willingly and consensually make love to him. ‘By the book,’ as he’d put it.
Or, the alternative…
In fact, he had wanted everything to be “by the book.” and it had been just that, so far.
Until now.
Jesus! she thought in horror as it suddenly sunk in: Jerry Rankin had set her up from the very beginning! The ‘chance meeting’ at the supermarket hadn’t been a chance meeting at all. Instead, it had been carefully planned out and meticulously executed…
He’d left a six-pack of Coke at the checkout counter knowing full well that she was going to rush out into the parking lot to give it to him! Or, he had at least taken a ‘calculated hunch’ that she would.
“You know, I can read your mind, Ann,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Right now, you’re trying to sort out everything and you’re slowly but surely discovering that you’ve more or less been had. And right now, you’re no doubt probably wondering how I could possibly know so much about you. Like, how did I know that you would pick up that book and start reading it, for example? I’ll be modest and admit that I didn’t know for sure that you would. But had you not chosen to read that steamy little romance novel, I would have merely executed an alternate plan instead. You see, there’s always a back-up plan, Ann. It’s absolutely vital in this business. It can make the difference between life and death, in fact.
“The irony of all of this is that it didn’t have to end this way. We could have moved on to greener pastures by now instead of standing here freezing in this goddamn hot tub, which, by the way, I installed solely for your enjoyment. We could be submerged in this wonderful hot water right now humping away. But I’m no fool, Ann. I’ve finally come to grips with reality. You’ve already told yourself quite some time ago that you don’t want me. I wasn’t sure of it until today, though. You’ve eluded yourself into thinking that you’re too goddamn good for me, just as all the others have. I thought you’d understand me, Ann, but you don’t. You, like all the others, wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit you on the ass.”
He let go of Ann’s wrists and stood back from her, flexing his muscles and taking on a bodybuilding pose.
“Look at me, Ann. Check out this bod. Not an ounce of fat, just pure muscle of steel. It’s taken me fifteen years to get my body in this shape! Fifteen years of working out tirelessly, methodically, and sticking to a proper diet. What woman wouldn’t dream of being screwed by a man with a powerful body like mine? Not too many is my guess.”
Jerry stepped forward and brought his face a few inches from Ann’s. “And this mug, Ann. Check it out! A pretty damn handsome bloke, eh? Forty years old and hardly a wrinkle! A great head of hair, too. What bitch could possibly resist me, once they’ve examined the merchandise? What the fuck more could they want?
“But there you stand, plain as day, telling me that I’m not quite up to your specs. Are you trying to convince me that Sam Middleton is some kind of prize? Ha! That skinny twerp sure ain’t getting any offers from Chippendale’s, now is he? Yet you still want the son of a bitch, don’t you? You miss the motherfucker; I can tell by the way you talk to your buddy Karen on the phone all the time. Judas Priest, Ann, you’re fucking blind as a bat!”
The mention of Sam’s name made Ann tense up even more as something suddenly dawned on her.
“You’ve never even seen my ex-husband before-how do you know what Sam looks like? And how… How the hell do you know what I’ve spoken to Karen about?”
Rankin chuckled vacantly. “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know, Ann. I’m pretty amazing, though, aren’t I? Christ, I know more about you than you know about yourself! Makes me almost godlike, doesn’t it? Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
Ann’s mind was a whirr as she thought back. Had she ever shown a picture of Sam to Jerry? No, she had not. The only photo she had was the family portrait in her bedroom. Had Jerry been up there? No, he most certainly had not.
And what about Karen? He had never met her-he doesn’t know her from the man in the moon. Yet…
“Think, Ann! Think! How could I know so much about you when I’ve only just met you a few weeks ago? Could it be that the man you’re seeing isn’t quite who he appears to be? Could it be that perhaps Jerry Rankin, real estate broker, is really somebody else? A master of surveillance-a master spy? And could it possibly be that he went into your house while you were away, gathering vital information and tapping your phone, listening in on your conversations? And spied on you through your windows while you were innocently going about your business? I mean, how else could I have known all the juicy things that you and your buddy Karen have chatted about? Including yours truly, of course. And how about that tart, Shelley Hatcher, whose been fucking your beloved Sam blind? You’d still choose him over me even after he’s been screwing around with someone else-even after he never learned his lesson the first time around. I just can’t figure you women out!”