Silence: The Faces of Evil Christmas Prequel (8 page)

Jess snatched up the Glock just as Potter snagged her by the hair again. Ramming the muzzle into her chest, Jess warned, “Get off me!”

Potter stilled.

“Get off me,” Jess repeated, her hands shaking with the effort required to refrain from pulling the trigger.

Potter released her hold on Jess’s hair. She scurried away on all fours and cowered in the corner.

Getting to her feet, Jess shoved the mass of tangled hair out of her face. She hurried to the cage where Marie still rocked her sister’s body. She’d stopped crying and was humming softly.

“I told Melvin I didn’t want to know about his sick urges,” Potter railed. “He and Dale could do whatever they wanted as long as they left me out of it.” She hissed a mouthful of curses. “He shouldn’t have ignored my rules. Keeping one at his house was the last straw. I fixed him.”

Jess didn’t have time to listen to her sick ramblings. She needed to help Marie. Get her out of that damned cage. What she really needed was a phone.

“Get in the cage.” Jess pointed to the one Potter had tried to force her into.

Potter didn’t move. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m only guilty of looking the other way.”

“I guess Pritchard cut his own throat.”

“He was still feeding them,” Potter ranted. “He had no right doing that. Melvin was the boss. He wasn’t supposed to do anything without Melvin’s say so. I told him to let them die and then we’d bury them.”

Wasn’t she just the epitome of compassion? “Stay on your hands and knees and get in there.
Now
.”

Potter crawled toward the cage. Jess gave her a wide berth until she was inside and then she latched the door and snapped the padlock in place. “Is there a landline in the house?”

Potter smiled up at Jess. “I cut the line. Threw the phone in the trash. Don’t worry about it, Agent Harris. None of us are getting out of here. We’re all going to die.”

Jess ignored her but there was no denying the bad, bad feeling that suddenly stirred in the pit of her stomach. “We’ll see about that.”

She needed keys or bolt cutters to get into the other cages.

“Don’t waste your time,” Potter said. “They’re all dead but one and she’s on her way out.”

“Where’s the key to those locks?” She was amazed by how much she wanted to shoot Delia Potter. Save the Commonwealth a pile of money.

“Threw ‘em away.”

Damn. “What about bolt cutters?” Jess scrutinized the shelves.

“There’s a pair hanging over there.” Potter gestured across the room. “Have at it. Take all the time you need.”

Jess grabbed the bolt cutters and snapped the locks on the cages. She tossed the tool aside and knelt at the door of the cage that held the Duncan sisters. Putting the two in one cage to die together had likely been part of the torture.

“Marie, let me help you climb out,” Jess urged. The smell of feces and urine was overpowering. Bonita had been dead maybe a day. Rigor had already started to reverse.

Marie shook her head. “Help my sister first.”

Jess opened her mouth to explain but Marie interrupted. “She’s my baby sister. It’s my job to protect her...” Her voice broke. “Please, help her.”

Marie was weak. Her face, particularly around her eyes, was sunken. Her body had that emaciated look. She needed medical attention right now. Holding onto her sister’s body posed even more risks. Her best chance of survival was if Jess drove her to town. She could call for help as soon as she had cell service but there was no time to wait.

None of that mattered to Marie Duncan. Her only concern was for her sister. Jess scrubbed at her aching forehead. She needed Marie’s cooperation. “Okay, we’ll get Bonita out first.”

Potter laughed.

Jess glared at her.

“You’re wasting precious time, Harris,” Potter taunted.

Then Jess smelled it...
smoke
.

She rushed to the stairs, taking them two at a time, Potter’s laughter following her. The stairs led into the kitchen. The room was full of smoke. Flames were eating away at the wall between the kitchen and whatever was on the other side. The living room, she thought.

“Dammit!” Jess ran to the back door and wrenched it open.

The sky was dark but the full moon illuminated the snow.

“Shit!” She hurried back down the stairs. There was no time. She had to get Marie out of this basement.

Potter laughed even louder. Jess ignored her. She shoved the Glock into the waistband of her slacks and reached into the cage for Marie.

She drew away. “Help my sister first.”

Jess searched the woman’s eyes, needed her to see the truth in her words as she spoke. “Marie, your sister is dead. You have to come with me now. The house is on fire and we have to get out of here.”

Marie shook her head. “I won’t leave her.”

“Listen to me, Marie,” Jess said more firmly, “I’m with the FBI. You have to do as I say now.”

“If you had a sister you’d understand,” Marie said, her voice growing weaker. “I can’t leave her. I
won’t
leave her.”

“Goodbye, Agent Harris!” Potter taunted. “We’re all going to die.”

11

Christmas Eve

Birmingham, 9:00 p.m.

Dan swept her into his arms. Jess curled hers around his neck, her fingers threaded into his hair. How many times had she dreamed of touching him this way? The way she had a thousand times before. Her mind had relived over and over, even when she didn’t want to, the memories permanently etched across her heart and soul.

He carried her away from the door. She drew back from his kiss to get her bearings. They moved into his bedroom. Fear or maybe good sense shook her. What was she doing?

He must have felt her tension because before she could protest, he settled her on the foot of his bed and dropped to his knees. “I’ve missed you so much, Jess.”

His hands cupped her face and he tenderly kissed her cheeks, her chin, and down the column of her throat. His beard rasped against her skin, sending shivers cascading over her. Heat stirred, chasing away the cold that nothing else had been able to touch in the last twenty-four hours.

His fingers trailed down her arms, his warm lips stilled at the base of her throat. He reached up, caressed her bruised skin softly. “Who hurt you?”

She didn’t want to talk about that. In that pivotal moment she understood that what she wanted was to forget about those hours in that basement... to forget about all the years that stood between her and this man. She wanted to feel those wonderful sensations only Dan could ignite in her. She wanted him. Now. No talking.

She grasped the hem of her sweater and pulled it up and off while he watched, worry still lining his beautiful face. She tossed the garment aside. “No more talking.”

He tugged at the buttons of his shirt, kissing her even as his fingers fumbled with one closure after the other. She reached behind her, unfastened her bra and let it fall away. He made a sound in his throat that emboldened her further. She no longer cared what day it was or how much time had passed since they had been together like this.

His fingers splayed across her torso, caressed her as his mouth tortured her breasts. She surrendered to the pleasure. Every tug of his lips had the ache between her thighs growing more and more unbearable.

He dragged off her shoes, helped her to her feet, then unfastened her slacks. As the fabric slid down her legs, he sat back on his heels and watched, the amazement in his expression tearing at her heart.

Her legs trembling, she settled back on the bed. He kissed her bruised knees. Kissed his way up her thighs. When he reached her belly button he urged her down onto the cool sheets. He stilled. She knew he was considering the bruises there too. His lips soothed the sore muscles of her abdomen as he dragged her silky panties down her skin. The muscles deep inside her started that rhythmic pulsing. His mouth moved to that part of her and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Her fingers fisted in the sheets as she cried out with pleasure.

He did nearly unbearable things to her with nothing more than his lips and tongue until she begged him to stop. He just smiled and started a slow, delicious path up her torso, tasting, sucking, and touching every part of her he encountered. Soothing the bruises with extra attention.

Somehow her fingers found the closure of his trousers, she got them loosened and shoved them along with his boxers down his hips. He was more than ready, erect and hard, smooth and hot. She wrapped her legs around his waist and forced that part of him toward the ache that was making her writhe in delicious agony.

He lifted her bottom until the tip of him was just barely inside her.

She gasped. Couldn’t move... couldn’t speak... she could only feel.

He pushed in another inch. They both made a sound that came from the fiercest of primal need—the kind of need that defied articulation.

Slowly, an inch at a time, as if he wanted to savor every part of the act, he filled her. Opened her fully, the way only he ever had. Then he put his face close enough to nuzzle hers. The feel of his lips, the heat of his breath whispered across her cheek as he gave her a moment to adjust to all of him. Then he started to rock his hips so incredibly gently.

He cradled her face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes. “I want to show you how many ways I’ve missed you.” He took her mouth with his own and kissed her as if it might be the last time he ever kissed anyone.

His gentle rocking grew harder, faster and she lost herself completely. She screamed with an orgasm unlike any she’d experienced since the last time they’d made love. Her legs still wrapped around his waist, he held her tight against his chest as he stood, their bodies remaining intimately connected. She laid her head against his shoulder while he kicked free of the trousers and boxers puddled around his ankles.

He carried her to the window, sat her naked bottom on the cool, marble ledge. He pulled back, almost all the way, then slid into her, and repeated the motions over and over. The rhythm was slow, the thrusts deep. His skin was so hot. Every place he touched her he set a fire even as the cold glass at her back and the chilly marble beneath her bottom tried to cool her. He nibbled at her ear... teased her chin with his teeth, never losing that perfect tempo.

He suddenly slowed, peered out the window beyond her. “Every time,” he said breathlessly, “I look at those lights I think of you. It’s the reason I chose this place.”

She tightened her legs around his waist, took him in as deep as her body would allow. “Come here.” She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him solidly on the mouth. He lifted her against him and carried her back to the bed. He laid her there and came down on top of her without breaking that kiss or the perfect bond of their bodies. Mere seconds later she was ready to come again.

He made love to her over and over. Fast and hard. Slow and tender. She came more times than she could remember. Over and over he kissed every part of her that was bruised and damaged by the evil she had survived.

The last time he came he collapsed beside her, pulled her to him and whispered something unintelligible in her ear.

The words followed her to sleep and somewhere along the way she was certain he repeated them.

I will always love you
.

12

Ruckersville

“Shut up!” Jess demanded. She had to think.

She wasn’t sure Marie could walk out of here. Maybe Potter could carry Bonita and Jess could carry Marie.

The flames whooshed, the sound roaring down the stairs. The house grumbled.

“Hear that,” Potter said. “It’ll all come down any second now.”

Jess grabbed the bolt cutters and snapped the lock on Potter’s cage. “Let’s go,” she ordered. Crazy bitch or not, she couldn’t leave her here to die. No matter how much she wanted to. “You can help me.”

Potter shook her head. “I think I’ll just stay.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“If you help me,” Jess said, trying another tactic, “your actions could help your case. Could make things easier on you.”

“I’m not spending the rest of my life in prison. I’d rather stay put and hear you scream when the flames devour you.”

To hell with her. “You can come or not. Makes no difference to me.”

Jess knelt at the door to the sisters’ cage once more. “Marie, we have to go now. I need you to let go of your sister and climb out.”

“Please.” She shook her head. “I can’t leave her. She’s all I have in the world.”

Jess battled back the emotions ramming at her. “Maybe we can do this together.”

Marie helped Jess get her sister through the small opening, then she crawled out. She tried to stand. Couldn’t. Her legs were too weak.

Jess started to place Bonita’s body on the floor.

“No!” Marie shook her head. “Carry her. I’ll crawl.”

They made it as far as the stairs, Potter’s taunts playing like a bad musical score to low-budget horror flick.

Marie couldn’t manage the stairs. Jess squatted next to her. “Put your arms around my neck and hang on.”

As the frail woman wrapped her arms around her, Jess did something she hadn’t done in a very long time. She prayed. She prayed for the strength to make it up the stairs with Marie hanging onto her back and a dead woman in her arms.

The first step was the most difficult. The rest were a blur.

When they reached the kitchen the smoke was so thick Jess could hardly breathe. Her throat and eyes burned. How the hell was she going to do this? The room was engulfed in flames. Holding Bonita close to her chest, she dropped to the floor.

“Marie, I want you to crawl now. Stay right behind me. Don’t let go of my coat.”

Throat and lungs burning, they made it to the backdoor. Thank God she’d left it open otherwise she might never have found it, confusion was already wreaking havoc with her judgment.

No sooner than she was knee deep in snow, something inside the house collapsed.

With Marie hanging onto her neck once more, Jess trudged through the snow until they were almost to her car. Exhausted, she dropped to her knees. Couldn’t carry both women any farther. She coughed until she lost her breath.