In the flickering firelight, Jackson stared at the seventeen people in front of him and savored how each of them was shaking, literally trembling with fear. God, how he loved that! It made him feel indestructible. “Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Master Jackson, and my job on this island is leader of the guards. When you address me, you shall use the name Master Jackson or sir. Nothing else is acceptable. Nothing else will be tolerated.”
Under his black hood, he smiled. When he’d worked as a lawyer during his short-lived legal career, he loved addressing the jury-trying to get them to listen, hoping to catch their eye, convincing them to believe-and for some reason, his orientation speech made him think back to his days in the courtroom. The days before his disbarment.
“As you can probably tell, none of you were given an opportunity to change your clothes after you received your invitation to the Plantation. Some of you are filthy, and some of you are clean. A few of you are dressed warmly, and others are not.” He stared at Susan Ross, a sixteen-year-old who’d been abducted from a community pool in Florida, and appreciated the way her teenage body looked in her bikini. He made a mental note to pay her a visit later. “In an attempt to make everybody equal, I’d like each of you to disrobe.”
Despite his command, nobody moved. They just stared straight ahead in absolute shock.
Like Holmes before him, Jackson shook his head in disappointment. “What a shame! I assumed that each of you had a pretty good understanding of your situation by now. I figured the Ginsu display from earlier was going to keep you in line for the rest of your visit.” Jackson shrugged his broad shoulders as he walked toward the prisoners. “I guess I was wrong.”
Jackson stopped in front of Susan, his six-foot frame towering above her. “I’m looking for a volunteer,” he roared in the voice of a drill sergeant. “And I think you will do nicely.”
Despite her cries of protest, he lifted her half-naked, 110-pound body over his shoulder and carried her toward the chopping block. Two guards offered to assist him, but he quickly ordered them to stay back. He was enjoying himself far too much to let them share in the fun. When he reached the wooden cube, he set her gently on the ground, then put her in a stranglehold so she couldn’t run away.
“What do you want from me?” she cried through the cloth of her white hood.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he whispered into her left ear. “And I must admit I’m looking forward to it.” He pushed his groin against the small of her lower back, and she immediately felt his excitement start to grow. “Can you feel how hard I am? That’s because of you, you know. All because of you.”
Susan tried squirming free of his grip, but Jackson was simply too strong for her. As she tried to pull away, he laughed at her feeble attempts.
“Are you done?” he asked in a civil tone.
After one more try, she nodded her head.
“Good, because I’m dying to begin.”
Like a tarantula, Jackson’s black fingers crawled down her nubile flesh, gradually creeping across her firm stomach, then sliding under her bathing suit. “Do you like my magic fingers?” he whispered. “Do you like when I touch you?”
Before she could respond, he lifted her off the ground and forced her to stand on the bloody chopping block. Within seconds, her bare feet were coated with the red fluid that had gushed from Paul Metz’s finger.
“As I told you a moment ago, I would like each of you to take off your clothes. Apparently, you’re not as threatened by me as you were by Master Holmes. Now, because of your ignorance, this young girl has to suffer.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” she sobbed. “I was being good. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was being good.”
With a mischievous smile, he placed his dark hand on the back of her leg and slowly, sexually, stroked her inner thigh. “I know, my dear, but it’s not my doing. You should fault your fellow inmates for ignoring my instructions. They’re more to blame than I.” His hand crept higher and higher on her smooth leg until it stopped on her ass. “Remember, I’m not to blame for this. Bear me no ill will.”
Taking his stiletto from the folds of his cloak, Jackson slowly raised the blade behind the unsuspecting female, inching it toward his target. The sharp steel glistened in the light of the raging fire.
“I want you to kneel for me,” he purred. “And I want you to take your time.”
Without a word of complaint, the girl dropped to her knees. His unblinking eyes followed the curvature of her cheeks on their downward path. When she reached the block, he heard her groan as she sank into the cherry liquid that coated the surface. The sound brought a smile to his lips.
“Now raise your hands above your head, and hold them there.”
She did as she was told, and her movement electrified him-her unquestioning compliance literally made his heart race faster.
“Remember,” he breathed, “no ill will.”
Jackson placed his hand on the girl’s bare back and searched for the perfect spot to make his incision. Once he found it, he lifted the knife to her flesh, tracing the ridges of her spine with the broad side of his cold, metal blade. As he did, he noticed the emergence of goose bumps, not only on her skin but on his as well. Gathering his emotions, Jackson inched the stiletto to the midsection of her back, the spot directly between her shoulder blades, then paused.
This was where the cut would be made.
Turning the blade to the appropriate angle, Jackson gazed at the crowd to make sure that they were watching. They were. The entire throng was focused on the hypnotic movements of his knife, like he was an ancient Mayan priest preparing for a ritual sacrifice. Pleased by the attention, he redirected his gaze to his target.
“It’s time!” he whispered.
With a quick slash, Jackson sliced the strap of her bikini top. Then, before she had an opportunity to flinch, he carved her swimsuit bottom as well, exposing her entire body to the audience and the humid Louisiana night.
A wave of humiliation flooded over the girl. She tried to cover herself by crouching into a tiny ball on the wooden cube, but Jackson wouldn’t allow it. He yanked her from her bloody perch and forced her to retake her position with the rest of the prisoners.
He would’ve preferred to wrap her in his arms but knew this was no time to be playing favorites. He had to treat everyone the same in order to set the rules, in order to get their respect.
Besides, he’d have a chance to make things up to her later-when they were alone.
CHAPTER 8
Wexford, Pennsylvania
(11 miles north of Pittsburgh)
DESPITE the early hour, Jonathon Payne managed to smile as he drove to Ariane’s apartment. Normally a grin wouldn’t make an appearance on his lips until much closer to noon, but since he was spending the entire day with her, he woke up in an atypically good mood.
Years of predawn calisthenics had soured his opinion of the morning.