Illicit (2 page)

Chapter 2

It was a regular family trip, something we’ve done many times over the years, ever since I can remember.

That year I begged to be left behind with the servants. “Jasmine will miss me too much.” This was my argument to a mother who turned a deaf ear to my pleas.

No amount of kicking and screaming deterred my parents from dragging me off to Europe.

I’d defiantly spent the last night watching over her, asleep on her little big girl cot, as she liked to call it.

I remember the room in the old cottage; the way her mother had dressed it up to make it as pretty as she could for her little girl.

I was too young back then to understand such things as poverty and class distinction.

I never wondered why my little Jasmine’s father was never seen, or why sometimes her mother would disappear with her for days, which I did not like.

I did know that Anna was young, too young. I’d heard the servants whispering about it, though I had no idea what it meant. How could she be too young, she’d had the baby hadn’t she?

Such things made no sense to me and I didn’t much care anyway, so it didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness, seeing her smile as she ran freely around the gardens.

Hearing her bubbly laughter as she got up to some mischief or the other. The thought of leaving her for so long scared me even then.

Somehow I knew that without me there to protect her, things could go wrong. We’d never been apart for any real length of time. It was as if I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function after too many hours away from her.

But who listens to the young? Who pays heed to the misgivings of a little boy who hardly knew what he was trying to say?

I was reassured that all will be well, as I said my final goodbyes to her. That day she had kicked and screamed even more than I had, refusing to release her hold on me, as our parents struggled to break us apart.

I never forgot the look in her eyes, a look of betrayal and abandonment. It was the first real heartbreak I’d suffered, that look pierced me to my soul, and stayed with me for a long, long time.

I’d run back to her in her mother’s arms one last time, and held her little tearstained face.

“I’ll be back soon Jazzy, I’ll bring you back something nice.” Choking back tears I’d walked away with my heart in pieces.

Then the evil had come and changed everything, and my world was turned upside down.

My life changed that summer; it was the year I lost my innocence. The year I stopped caring about anyone or anything.

It was also the year I learned about my true destiny. Who I was and what was expected of me.

None of it mattered to me back then; not the years of training, or the separation from everyone and everything I knew.

Not even the lost of my youth, as I was flung headlong into a life of mystery and darkness.

All that mattered was getting back to her one day. Everything I did, all that I endured, was with that one goal in mind.

Back In The States

The air was thick with the smell of pine and evening dew; in the distance a ways off, the sound of cars rushing by could be heard through the barrier of trees that lined the property.

The lone figure walked stealthily towards the backdoor of the old cottage.

There was no fear, no hesitation about what he was about to do; he’d done it so many times before after all, it had become second nature.

Only difference was, this time he wasn’t doing it for the sole pleasure of it all.

No, he had been hired if you could believe that. Someone was actually willing to pay him and pay him well, to do what he loved best.

He felt the rush of adrenaline, that high that always came moments before. The sinister grin that crossed his face would’ve put fear in the hearts grown men it was so dark.

The old door hardly made a sound as he slid it open, removing the gum like paste he’d put in the lock earlier that day.

The idea of oiling the door on the pretense of helping had been inspired. He listened for the sounds of the house to be sure there were no late night eaters in the Thompson house.

Making his way by memory through the layout of the hundred-year old house, he found his way to the master bedroom, first things first.

He eased over to the side that he’d discerned to be the man of the house’ when the family had been so kind as to let him use their bathroom.

With a swift move he cut the man’s throat. Whether it was the hiss of the blood escaping, or the wind on her face from the movement of his hands Lenora Thompson woke up.

The scream became trapped in her throat when she saw the large hunting knife with her husband’s blood.

Holding a lone finger up to his lips he cautioned her to silence. “You make a sound and your sweet little girl will be next.”

He started to unbutton his pants, his cock already hard as a pike at the thought of what was to come next.

With her husband’s blood fresh and warm on his hands, the tinny scent adding to his already bursting erection, he approached the now cowering woman.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she tried valiantly to hold back the scream that could mean the difference between the child’s life and death.

His hand came down across her mouth and she tasted the metallic bite of her husband’s blood.

Her stomach revolted as she felt the breath leave her body. Rough hands pulled and tore at the simple cotton nightgown she wore, as she struggled to keep her legs glued together.

A hard punch to the side of her head stunned her into keeping still as the intruder forced himself between her thighs.

The face she’d seen for the first time that day hovered above her, as his hot breath blew across her face.

She cringed and bucked beneath him as he plunged mercilessly into her dry body. He grunted and swore as his body moved over hers, his thick phallus tearing her as she felt the burning pain from his brutal attack.

Her thoughts seemed to go off on their own as she lay there helplessly. Did these things really happen? Why did they happen and to whom did they happen?

All these thoughts ran through her head as tears of regret fell from her eyes.

She knew why this particular horror was taking place knew of the wretched hand behind it. They had all feared it, but no one could believe that such a thing could happen.

Who would believe that such evil existed? She cried for her poor little grandbaby, and the life that would be destroyed.

Why hadn’t they left when the whispers started? Why hadn’t they sent the boy away sooner? It was too late for what ifs now. Much too late!

She felt the burst of his seed as it exploded inside her, but nothing else. She had grown numb about the third time he’d thrust into her unwilling body.

The body next to her was rolled and tossed with the violent movements of the monster atop her, as he cried out his release. She never felt the blade as it sliced into her neck severing her head from her body.

The day was hot and humid. Hunkered down as she was in the backseat of the old beat up truck, tucked under a blanket, she sweltered and itched but dared not move for fear of what might happen next.

She’d learned as the days went by not to do anything other than what she was told.

Her body bore the bruises from her few bouts of rebellion. She had no tears left to cry.

So instead she listened to the sound of the wheels as they rolled over the pavement outside.

She hadn’t seen anything of the outside world in days, not since she’d been dragged from her bed and tossed to the floor.

Coming out of a deep sleep she’d barely had enough time to open her mouth to scream, before she’d been backhanded to the floor.

The man had dragged her across the room by her hair, across the hall and into her nana’s room, where her true nightmare began.

All remnants of sleep had fled as she’d taken in the scene before her. What had once been her nana resembled a bloody mess of rags and spread thighs with blood smeared on them.

But the horror didn’t end there it had only just begun, as she saw her grandmother’s sightless eyes looking back at her from beneath the bed.

She’d started screaming then and hadn’t stopped, not until the punch in her stomach had winded her and the knife at her throat had threatened.

Throughout it all she wondered why he hadn’t come, she’d called to him from her silent place inside, but there was no answer.

She was too young to understand all that had passed, too innocent to grasp the horror that had become her world.

The fear threatened to choke her young body, as she felt silent tears roll down her face.

The sense of terror was equaled only to the sense of abandonment. He’d promised hadn’t he? He always said he would be there to take care of her.

As young as she was, she knew what that meant; knew also that he’d never broken his word before. As she drifted off to sleep she prayed between sniffles that her angel would come back for her.

***

“Cody Parker here.”

It was three o’clock in the morning so I knew right off the bat that it was not going to be good. Nothing good ever comes a calling at this bitch of an hour.

“Parker your boy struck again.”

Fuck, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear, anything but that. The caller didn’t have to say any more than that for me to know what or who he was talking about.

For three years I’ve wanted to get my hands on this guy, but I could never get within a mile of the fucker.

I didn’t know who he was, but I knew what he was. Monster was not harsh enough, evil isn’t dark enough.

Somewhere in the universe there’s a word to describe this being, but what that is I don’t know.

“Where?”

“ Havenhurst Estates; you know, that big old place on the border between New Hampshire and Maine. Apparently the family’s away, but he went after the caretaker and his wife. There’s one problem though, there’s a little girl missing from the home, we think he’s got her.”

Fuck me no this was bad. “How old?”

“Three years old.”

“Are we sure it’s him?”

“Pretty certain, same MO down to the gum paste on the door, my men are combing the area but it doesn’t look good.”

“I’ll be right there.”

I hung up the phone with my guts in knots; I couldn’t stop to think. Every minute that I waste a little girl’s life is at stake. The monster doesn’t have a conscience, whatever and whomever, he’d destroy.

What was his game this time? He’s never taken a hostage before, why would he take the girl? Nothing about this felt good, every minute that child was in his hands was a minute too long.

Then again, maybe this would prove to be his downfall. I got my team on the horn and prepared to travel the few miles out of town to go face whatever the evil one had left behind.

Chapter 3

Fifteen Years Later

My skin burns as his hands move over my body in the dark. The heat is the most intense it’s ever been, especially there, between my thighs.

I rub them together as I wait for his fingers to find my secret places. I long for that most of all.

Finally he’s there, his fingers move ever so slowly across the surface of my heated flesh.

Always he teases me, going only so far but never far enough. I want to beg and plead with him for more, but I’m afraid to break the spell, afraid to send my phantom lover back into the shadows.

It’s only lately that the dreams have turned into this. Only in the last few days that my body has been awakened, and each night since the first, I hurry into sweet oblivion so that I can be in his arms once more.

The dreams have become so real, so that where always before I wondered, now I knew here in this place, there was something different about the way I dream, the way I’ve been dreaming for as long as I can remember. But who could I ask?

It was as if they had been waiting for me to come here to escalate. It’s only here that he touches me, only here that my body seems to take on a life of its own. Here where my senses were heightened.

I writhe now beneath his hands, my own hands moving as if of their own volition, touching myself in places never before explored.

Again, I felt that other presence that frightened me even though I it couldn’t be seen. “Shh Jasmine, you’re safe; I’ll keep you safe.”

His whispered words helped to settle me as they always do and I reached for his mouth with mine, but once more as before, he turned away just in time so that my efforts landed on his cheek.

***

It’s never easy being the new kid having to start over, make new friends. It’s even harder when you’re naturally shy and introverted.

That’s why I’m not really looking forward to my first day at Havenhurst High. Bad enough I’d only moved to the town of my parents’ birth two days before, which meant I hadn’t had time to learn the lay of the land just yet.

It also meant I knew no one here, so now I’m suffering from a serious case of new girl syndrome.

The town itself seems to fit me somehow though, in a weird way. Like I’d come home after being away for too long.

It feels almost welcoming, even though I have yet to meet anyone here. But from the first moment I set foot off the plane, this feeling of acceptance overcame me.

It’s hard to explain, especially for someone who has never really fit in anywhere before, but Havenhurst spoke to me of new beginnings.

It was the first place I’d ever felt that sense of peace and acceptance, and I’ve been to a whole lot of places in my almost eighteen years.

I wasn’t going to stress too much on that other feeling, that one that was so thick it was as if I could actually touch the darkness of it.

I had almost asked my dad about it, it was so strong, but I was too old to go running to my father with nightmares.

That was another reason for concern, at almost eighteen I would be starting over at a school where everyone would’ve already formed their friendships since childhood.

From what little mom and dad had shared, their hometown was one of those places where everybody knew everybody else, and families had been here for generations.

I would be the outsider in more ways than one. None of that mattered now though, because I’d decided to make it home.

I know mom was still holding onto the hope that I might change my mind and return, but I was through living the life of a nomad.

This was the place of my birth; for all that I hadn’t seen it since I was too young to remember anything about it. But if my feelings on arrival were anything to go by, I was finally where I needed to be.

Apart from the nerves of having to start anew, there was an excitement bubbling under the surface, that I was hard pressed to put into words.

I’ve been having these strange feelings for the past year or so, things I couldn’t explain.

It was almost as if my life was playing out in front of me, and somehow I was moving towards something. What that something was, I didn’t know, and it made no sense.

I chalked it up to finally being settled, something I’ve never been in my life.

With a mother who always seemed to be running from her own personal demons, a woman whose answer was always to move from place to place, without any care as to what it did to the small girl she dragged around behind her, there was never any feeling of home. Here I felt it, whatever home was.

I felt heat spread across my face as I remembered the night before and the dream that had seemed so real.

“Jazz you about ready Sweet-pea?”

I had to smile; my dad is such a dork. He was so excited to have me finally come live with him, that he’d gone out of his way to make things super cool.

Like having my bedroom done in my favorite colors of pink and black, fixing up an old beat up truck that was a left over from his high school days, and was older than me.

And most of all, taking the last few days off to help me get settled into my new home.

I know from our weekly conversations in the last year that dad’s a workaholic, so that last was a true testament to his love.

I’d taken the initiative to call my father after the last time mom had gone on a bender and I’d decided that I’d had enough.

In all the time I’d known my mom, it was the first time I’d ever seen her so upset. She seemed almost afraid when I’d told her what I’d decided.

But the damage was already done. There followed months of fighting back and forth, threats were made and dad had promised to get the law involved; and because I’d had enough, it was my decision to come live with him, if he’d have me.

It was the first time I’d been old enough to say one way or the other. Before that, I had only spoken to him sporadically here and there, and always after each phone call, we’d move in the dead of night again.

Looking back it was as if mom was running from something or someone. Instinctively I knew it wasn’t my dad, but I never could figure out who was the cause of that fear that I sometimes saw in her eyes.

He’d been ready to come get me there and then, but I had to make sure mom would be okay first.

She’d been so defeated there at the end. Like all the wind had been knocked out of her sails.

But in the end, no matter how she fought against it, it was a losing battle, I wanted out.

I’d grabbed at the chance for some normalcy and snatched dad’s offer, taking the first plane I could get as soon as I was assured that mom would be okay. Maybe now she could stop running.

Neither of my parents has ever told me what had happened between them to make my mom disappear in the middle of the night.

It was strange really, sometimes I got the feeling that mom still had feelings for my dad.

I could remember when I was much younger, sometimes I’d wake up in the middle of the night to find her holding one of his pictures and crying.

It used to scare me to see that, but I had no understanding of what it meant. All I could do back then was wrap my tiny arms around her and try to offer comfort.

***

“Ready dad.” I hopped down the stairs even as I reminded myself that maybe I was a little too old for that, but it made dad smile. I guess since he’d missed my toddler years we had a lot to make up for.

“Let’s see how the old girl runs shall we?”

“Uh dad, you’re not following me to school are you?”

“Why Jasmine Tanning, are you ashamed of your old man?”

He clutched at his chest and made a sad face, which made me giggle snort.

“You’re such a dork dad.”

“That’s sir dork to you young lady show a little respect if you please, and to answer your impertinent question, no I am not following you into the belly of hell. I’ve already done my time in that cesspit thank you very much.”

“Nice dad, real nice.”