Depraved 2 (19 page)

Billy sniffled and didn’t say anything.

Jessica took the gun from the dash and pointed it at him. “Open your door and get out. Make me say it again and I’ll kill you.”

Jessica couldn’t say exactly why she did what she did next, except that it was a continuation of the same impulse that had caused her to beat him, another example of a burgeoning new capacity for sadism. She placed the suppressor against his head, smiling at the way the sudden pressure against his skull made him whimper and hunch his shoulders. Body instinct was such a funny thing, all those nerve endings responding to the primitive delusion that a tightening of muscles could prevent or minimize harm to the body. A bullet fired from the gun in her hand would make a bloody mockery of that idea.

Jessica chuckled softly and said, “Bang.”

Billy sobbed some more.

Jessica took the gun away from his head. “Get out.”

Billy let out a shuddery breath as he finally opened the door and slid out of the truck into the tall grass. After grabbing her purse from the floor and sliding the strap over her shoulder, Jessica got out, too.

There was a small wooden deck with rails at the back of the house. On it was a propane grill, a wrought-iron table, and some chairs. One of the chairs had been kicked over. A single empty beer bottle sat near the center of the table. Jessica kicked aside the knocked-over chair and crossed the deck to the back door. After a glance inside at an empty kitchen, she used the gun to knock out a window panel. She reached inside to turn the door lock and patted her fingers gingerly along the edge of the door until she found a deadbolt latch. The deadbolt didn’t want to budge at first, but she bore down harder and it eventually surrendered to the pressure, the bolt retracting with an audible thunk. The door then swung inward with the expected creaking of rusted hinges.

Jessica glanced back at Billy, who was watching her with a wary expression. She stepped aside and waved an arm at the open door. “Ladies first.”

“You know what’s funny?”

“What’s funny, Billy?”

“In the beginning, I thought you might be a decent person. You know, despite the whole kidnapping thing. I thought we could even be friends once you had your troubles sorted out, whatever they are.” His eyes glinted with what looked like genuine sadness. “But now I know better.”

Jessica’s tight-lipped smile failed to mask the rage building inside her. “Is that so?”

“No really decent person gets a kick out of hurting other people.”

Jessica’s phony smile faded and she waved the gun at the open door. “Inside, Billy.”

Having said his piece, Billy went inside without another word.

Jessica followed him inside and shouldered him out of her way with a degree of force far in excess of anything necessary. She then began a methodical room-by-room search of the house, which didn’t take long because it wasn’t a big house. It was one floor with two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen and dining area, and a living room. After confirming that the house was empty, she marched Billy into the living room and made him sit on a tacky old tartan sofa. He complied without hesitation or comment and stared at the haphazard stack of old magazines on the coffee table in front of him.

She aimed the gun at his face. “I need to make a phone call. You sit still and keep your mouth shut while I’m talking. Got it?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Jessica shrugged the purse strap off her shoulder. She took out the last of the disposable cell phones she’d purchased earlier in the day. After activating it, she punched in her father’s number and put the phone to her ear.

He answered on the second ring. “Is this who I think it is?”

She bit back the reflex to gush at the sound of his voice. Her old man was hardass, old school military, all business in times of trouble and conflict. She needed to show she was cut from the same cloth. “It is.”

“Are you where I think you are?”

She didn’t say anything.

He grunted. “Good. I’m still doing all I can for you, but it may take longer than I initially hoped. There are people higher up the chain of command with a vested interest in seeing you permanently neutralized.”

Jessica couldn’t suppress an exasperated gasp. “Why?”

Her father sighed. “You’re seen as a loose cannon. No one wants word getting out about what really happened in Kabul.”

“But that’s ridiculous! I’ve got as much to lose as anybody if that ever went public. Hell, more to lose, since I was the one with my finger on the fucking trigger.”

Her father was silent for a few moments, allowing her time to compose herself. When he did speak again, it was in the same measured tone as before. “I still believe I can fix this. It’s just going to require more time and finesse than I originally thought. In the meantime, I need you to stay out of sight. Are you in a secure location?”

“I’m in a house. Pretty sure the owners won’t be returning any time soon.”

“It would be in your best interests to remain there until I can get the situation resolved.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” Jessica asked, a tinge of anxiety creeping into her voice again despite her best efforts to emulate her father’s resolutely calm tone.

“At least one more day. Maybe two. If at any point you need to leave the house for supplies, I suggest you do it under cover of night. One more thing.” There was a brief pause from her father’s end. “Are you alone?”

Jessica looked at Billy, wondering whether she should tell her father about him. She knew he would tell her to kill him and she wasn’t quite ready to do that.

Just lie. No need to complicate things unnecessarily.

“Yes. I’m alone.”

Billy’s face betrayed profound confusion. His mouth opened as if he might say something. Jessica put a shushing finger to her lips, her fierce glare a promise of a severe punishment to come if he gave the lie away. Billy closed his mouth.

“Good. Keep the faith. I’ll clear this up. I promise.”

The line went dead.

Jessica dropped the phone in her purse and aimed the gun at Billy’s face. He started trembling again and his eyes brimmed with fresh tears. She attributed his increased terror to the comment she’d made about being alone. The guy had no idea to whom she’d been talking, but she had a hunch his imagination was running wild. He probably believed she was a contract killer for the mob or some other kind of shady individual, which, really, wasn’t so far removed from the truth. And he would, of course, assume the person she’d been talking to was her boss. He might further assume the moment of his death was at hand, that she was getting rid of him to comply with the interests of this imaginary boss.

But she still had no intention of killing him.

Not just yet.

“Stretch out on the sofa, Billy. Lie flat on your back.”

He frowned. “What? Why?”

“Just do it, bitch.”

Billy flinched at the epithet, intimidated by the dehumanizing vehemence in her tone, but he did as instructed. When he was flat on his back, Jessica put the gun down and sat on the edge of the coffee table. She began to pull off her boots.

Billy’s brow creased. “What are you doing?”

Jessica didn’t say anything as she stood up and undid the snap of her jeans. The jeans were very tight and she had to force them down past her hips before she could step out of them. The black panties came off next and after that she picked up the gun again.

Billy looked more distraught than ever. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jessica approached the sofa and placed the gun’s suppressor against his forehead, making him suck in a breath as his eyes widened. There was no hint of anger in Jessica’s expression as she stared down at him. The rage had burned away during the talk with her father. This wasn’t about anger, not really. It was about power and about feeling in control, things that had become very important to her after surviving her previous visit to Hopkins Bend. She had worked hard and had transformed herself, becoming a person to be feared. But that sense of power and control had slipped away, leaving her off-kilter and afraid.

And that wasn’t acceptable.

“I’m going to sit on your face,” she said, her voice monotone. “And you’re going to lick my pussy until I tell you to stop.” She pushed the suppressor harder against his forehead, the cushion beneath him indenting as the back of his head was pressed into it. “And if you don’t, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”

Tears leaked from the corners of Billy’s eyes and his chest hitched. “I’ve got a girlfriend.”

“So you’ve told me. Here’s some extra incentive for you. If I get any resistance from you, I’ll track her down and kill her, too. You want your sweetheart to die because you had to stay pure for her?”

Billy gave his head a weak shake. The tears were coming in streams now. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.” A faint smile touched the corners of Jessica’s mouth. “Do your best for her, Billy.”

She swung a leg onto the couch and got her crotch into position above his tear-streaked face. Before she lowered herself to him, an echo of the person she’d once been cried out in horror at what she was doing. Something very like this had been done to her and she’d barely survived the psychological trauma and anguish that came in its wake. In a very real, direct way, she was where she was right now because of that act. What was becoming of her? What had happened to her conscience?

In truth, however, she already knew the answer to that last question.

She didn’t have a conscience anymore. The hundreds of dead in Kabul and elsewhere were testament to that.

Jessica moved the gun from Billy’s forehead to the crown of his skull. And then she lowered herself to him, sighing in pleasure as she pressed herself against his mouth and felt the wetness of his tears against her thighs.

“Lick, Billy,” she said, her voice turning hoarse with arousal. “Lick like your life depends on it.”

Which it does.

There was a final hesitation.

And then she felt Billy’s tongue go to work.

17.

Vivian Hunt was delighted to have an opportunity to play with her stun gun. She shocked each of the women hanging from the beam multiple times prior to questioning them about the death of the butcher’s daughter. According to Vivian, this was to “prime” them for the interrogation and render them more likely to tell the truth about what had happened.

And maybe that really was part of why she did it, but Daphne figured simple sadism was the bigger reason. The psychotic purveyor of illicit cuisine enjoyed watching their bodies convulse, as the wicked gleam in her eyes every time she applied the stun gun to their trembling flesh made clear. What cemented the impression was when she briefly shifted her attention to the fat man and jammed the stun gun against his scrotum. The footless man-pig mewled like a baby. That he’d had nothing to do with killing Lexus couldn’t have been more obvious, but that didn’t matter to Vivian. She was doing this only for the sheer thrill of it. After a last leering glance back at her audience, she pressed the stun gun’s trigger and held it against the behemoth’s scrotum until the device automatically cut off several seconds later.

The big man’s body convulsed so violently it caused the beam supporting his weight to make more of those loud cracking sounds. This time, however, the noise was so dramatic it sounded like the wooden hull of an old-time sailing vessel being torn asunder during a storm on high seas. For a moment, Daphne was convinced it would finally give way and send them all crashing to the floor. But the beam again proved sturdier than she imagined and the three of them remained suspended in the air. When the fat man’s convulsions subsided, another ripping fart exploded from his asshole, followed by several more splashes of diarrhea on the floor.

This earned a round of guffaws, chuckles, and groans of disgust from Vivian’s strange entourage. The lady holding her husband’s leash crinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face, while the portly midget’s belly quaked with unrestrained laughter. Even Klaus appeared amused as he rested a comforting hand on his grieving brother’s shoulder. And then Vivian shocked the man one more time for good measure.

When she was done having her fun with the poor son of a bitch, Vivian smiled with great malevolence as she eyed the hanging women. “I don’t wish to waste much of my evening questioning you sows. As you may have surmised, I have invited some very special guests to a rare after-hours meal here at Mama Hunt’s. I advise you not to waste their valuable time with anything other than the absolute truth. Am I understood?”