Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse (7 page)

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Authors: Glenn Bullion

Tags: #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: Damned and Cursed (Book 2): Witch's Kurse
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His nerves attacked him, and he leaned his head on the steering wheel to fight them.
 
She was almost too pretty for him, but he pushed those thoughts aside.
 
She would love him, like he loved her.

The group separated, and she took her normal path, like she'd done every single day he spent with her.
 
She shifted her backpack on her shoulders and headed down the sidewalk, away from school.
 
She didn't drive or take the bus.
 
Walking was a great way to exercise.
 
She liked to keep herself in shape, just for him.

Martin blended in with the little traffic there was, keeping his eye on her the entire time.
 
She didn't deviate from her normal path.
 
A left on Warner, then a right on Munroe.
 
Her stare was fixated on her phone as she sent text message after text message, only looking up long enough to not bump into anything.
 
He wasn't sure if he found that attractive.
 
He'd have to talk with her about that habit.

She flipped her hair behind her shoulder as she crossed an intersection, a gesture that drove Martin crazy.
 
The girl was intoxicating.
 
Surely she have must realized what she did to him.

He didn't even know her name.
 
In the end, that was unimportant.
 
He'd give her a new name, like he always did.
 
He debated on a name as he followed her, still camouflaged in traffic.
 
What would a nice name be for a gorgeous beach bunny like her?
 
Kelly?
 
Susan?
 
Donna?

Kara.

The name immediately struck a chord, and a smile touched his lips.
 
It was a beautiful name.

"Kara," he said aloud.
 
The name rolled like honey off his tongue.
 
He focused his gaze on her.
 
"I love you, Kara."

It was almost as if she heard him, even through the distance and rolled up windows.
 
She stopped for a moment and turned, searching the street around her.
 
Martin averted his eyes, as difficult a task as that was, and occupied himself by fiddling with the radio.
 
Kara eventually returned her attention to her cell phone and trek home.
 
He had another two blocks to admire her, before she reached the alley she used as a shortcut.
 
Her hips swayed, the muscles in her calves tightened as she stepped onto the curb.
 
Martin wiped his brow at the thought of what they'd do to each other.

He could see the alley up ahead.
 
The time to introduce himself was nearly upon them.
 
He reached into the glove compartment for the rag and the bottled mix of chemicals his father had shown him how to make decades ago.

Kara turned down the alley, and Martin took a deep breath.
 
He counted to himself.
 
It took exactly fifty-three seconds for Kara to walk from one side of the alley to the other.
 
Sometimes it took a little longer, as she'd lean against the brick wall and send an intense text to a friend.
 
He needed to time it perfectly, reach her at the halfway point.
 
The alley was nothing but the sides of two buildings, a laundromat and a Chinese take-out place.
 
No houses, no one to see Martin work.

He turned off the main road onto Kara's shortcut.
 
The alley was wide enough for maybe two cars.
 
She continued to walk slowly as she stared at her cell phone, her thumbs flying.
 
Finally, she heard the quiet rattle of Martin's engine, and stepped to the side to allow him to pass.
 
He pulled alongside her.
 
Their eyes met, only for an instant, before she raised her phone once again.

Martin threw the door open.
 
He already had the rag in his right hand.
 
He lived this event in his mind countless times, and now it was finally for real.
 
Kara only had time to be startled for a second before he was on her.
 
She dropped her phone as he wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed the rag to her face.
 
She struggled, but was only one hundred pounds, at best.
 
He lifted her into the air and pulled her inside the car.
 
She screamed into the rag and kicked with her legs as he leaned back across the seats, simply to disorient her.
 

He struggled in his mind with getting the task done, as well as fighting his own excitement.
 
They were finally touching.
 
His arm was still around her waist.
 
Her shirt was pulled up, and he could feel her stomach.
 
Her hair was splayed across his face.
 
The scent was almost more than he could handle.
 
He inhaled deeply as the fight slowly left her.

"Shhh," he whispered.
 
"It's okay, Kara.
 
I promise I'll take good care of you.
 
Finally, we're together."
 
He stroked her cheek with his thumb, still pressing the rag to her.
 
"I love you."

Kara went limp, and Martin let out a sigh of relief.
 
He pulled the tiny lever to pop the trunk, and carried Kara in his arms.
 
He set her gingerly in the trunk, not bothering to take off her backpack.
 
The materials he needed were already waiting.
 
A pair of handcuffs and a roll of duct tape.
 
He tore off a strip of duct tape and covered her mouth, being as careful as he could not to catch her hair.
 
He handcuffed her tiny wrists behind her back, after he'd wrapped several layers of duct tape around her feet.

He admired her.
 
Heat rose below his waist as his eyes traveled her figure, her soft skin, her bound hands.
 
He wanted to caress her face, but resisted and carefully closed the trunk.
 
He scooped up the phone she dropped and tossed it onto the passenger's seat.
 
Kara wouldn't need her phone.
 
She'd never have to call or talk to anyone ever again.

Martin allowed himself a moment of reflection as he climbed behind the wheel.
 
The scent of her shampoo still lingered in his nose, mixing with the ocean from the beach not far away.
 
It was a beautiful day.
 
He always loved fall, the perfect season.
 
The humid, stuffy air from the summer was gone, but the winter had not yet arrived.
 
There was a perfect chill in the air.

The love of his life was finally with him.
 
She was perfect, not like the others at all.

The drive home was peaceful.
 
He lived on the other side of town.
 
His house was a Cape Cod, like the others in his neighborhood, but sat further back along the street.
 
The attached garage let him park and come and go as he pleased, and let him bring the previous women in his life inside without being seen.

He smiled as he waved at the neighbors' kids, playing in their yard.
 
It was a wonderful thought, knowing he would never bring another girl home.
 
Kara was it.
 
She was the last one.
 
If only his father was still alive to meet her.

He parked his car in the garage and pressed the button to lower the door.
 
The light from the outside slowly vanished; only a beam from the single window on the door lit the way.
 
Stretching his arms over his head, he let out a yawn as he circled back to the trunk.

Martin opened the trunk and jumped with surprise.
 
A smile spread across his face as he put a hand over his chest.
 
Kara and he had startled each other.

Kara was awake.
 
She recoiled as the dim light found her, and let out a tiny scream against the duct tape.
 
Tears ran down her cheeks as she struggled against her bonds, a sight that broke Martin's heart.

"Aww, Kara," he said, reaching out to touch her hair.
 
She squealed and withdrew further into the tight space.
 
"Everything's gonna be okay.
 
I promise.
 
I won't let anything happen to you."

He grabbed her by the tape around her ankles and pulled.
 
She cried and tried to kick, but had no leverage.
 
There was nothing she could do with her hands behind her back.
 
She did manage to be annoying, thrashing to the point that it was difficult for Martin to get a hold of her.

"Kara, come on, baby," he said.
 
"I won't be able to cook dinner for us if you fight like this."

Once he pulled her from the car, he slung her over his shoulder with ease.
 
She whined and cried, trying her best to fight with her legs.
 
He simply gripped her waist tighter while holding her legs with his free arm.
 
He didn't bother retrieving her phone from the car.

It took some effort to open the door to the house with Kara on his shoulder.
 
He passed through the laundry room.
 
He had to remember to run a load of clothes before the night ended.
 
She finally relaxed somewhat as he walked through the dining room, simply because she had no choice.
 
He grabbed a pair of scissors from a table on the way to the living room.

He cut the straps to her backpack, flinging it to the floor.
 
"There," he said.
 
"You won't be needing that anymore.
 
Who wants to go to school, anyway?"

He set Kara on the floor and secured her to a strong clip hook that ran directly into a stud in the wall.
 
They were scattered all over the house.
 
His father had taught him well, both by words and example.
 
A sturdy clip hook, a short, tough chain, and just some time was enough to break any will.
 
He knew what the coming weeks held.
 
Kara would try to leave him every chance she got.
 
He'd have to keep her gagged, maybe even stretch out when she could eat and drink.
 
He'd have to break her mind and body.
 
But in the end, she'd stay, and she would love him.

He couldn't wait to show her her new room.

Martin sat on the couch and turned on the TV.
 
He didn't focus on what was on at all, he simply wanted some background noise.
 
Kara sat, tentatively pulling at her restraints and trying to wiggle out of the duct tape, which only bunched it up more.
 
Fear was etched on her face, which only brought a stab of sadness to Martin.
 
He knew soon, though, that her fear would be replaced with affection.

"Oh man, what a day," he said.
 
"I'm gonna rest a bit, relax my legs, and then I'll give you a tour of the house.
 
You'll
love
your room.
 
I spent the past few weeks getting it ready.
 
It's in the basement."

Kara cried once again, bawling and nearly hyperventilating behind the duct tape.
 
Martin couldn't resist rising from the couch and going to her.

"Don't cry, baby," he said.
 
She pulled her knees to her chest and turned her head as he knelt in front of her.
 
"It'll all be okay.
 
I promise you."

She shivered as he put a hand on her bare knee.
 
Her scent drifted to his nose once again, and he closed his eyes to enjoy it more.
 
He wanted to kiss her on the cheek.
 
He leaned in close.

Someone knocked on the back door.

Martin pulled away as his gaze shot back to the dining room.
 
His mind raced.
 
The back door was in the kitchen, and no one
ever
used it.
 
Sometimes the neighbors' kids would knock on the front door, and he'd talk to them for a minute before sending them on their way.
 
But the back door remained untouched.
 
Since his house was further back along the street, there was no good reason for a neighbor to be at the back door.

Paranoia attacked him.
 
Someone must have seen him introduce himself to Kara.
 
He shook his head.
 
No, that couldn't be it.
 
His garage was closed when he pulled her from the trunk.
 
The alley was empty.

Who could it be?

The knock came again, harder this time.

He realized Kara was screaming through the duct tape, screaming for help.

Martin glared at her.

"You shut your mouth," he said, the sugar gone from his voice.
 
"I'm gonna see who it is.
 
Chase them away.
 
Kara, if you make another peep, I
will
punish you.
 
Do you understand me?
 
If you so much as breathe too loud, I'll kill whoever's at the door, then come back here to punish you."

She went silent, her eyes filled with terror.
 
He let out a small smile.
 
Already, he was breaking her will.
 
She wouldn't take long at all.

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