Freeing Lana Page 12

  “Yes.’

  “Tonight, after the lights go out in this place, I will be thinking about you in your car, your hand rubbing that delicious pussy of yours, while I jerk off. Now what do you think about that?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said truthfully.

  “Will you do it again when you leave today?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “I think you can, and you will,” he said.

  “I have to go.”

  “Hurry up then, and get in that car as fast as you can, Lana,” he said with a sly laugh.

  Lana did hurry out of the building, but not because she had some inner intention of fingering herself in the parking lot as before, no matter what he was probably thinking. It was worse than that. No, she had to get out of there, and get to the safety of her car before anyone saw how wet she had become while listening to this deranged madman while he had been talking to her. She couldn’t believe it, but she could feel the wetness spreading down one of her thighs as she half walked, half ran across the parking lot.

  When she got in the car and closed the door behind her, the urge to do exactly what he had expected her to do was almost overwhelming. It took all her strength just to keep her hands on the steering wheel long enough for the urge to pass. What the fuck, Lana! She turned the key and started the car, but as soon as she put the car into reverse, she had to slam on the brakes to keep from hitting the brown Saab that was passing right behind her.

  2

  Detective Tom Tinkerton, known by most simply as Tink, sat in his unmarked police car outside of a Jiffy Lube on Main Street. He, like the officers in three other cars located at several businesses nearby, were watching the front door of a small convenience store. Moments before, a man named John Malcolm had gone through that front door as he had many times in the past to purchase a package of CHILL X, one of the localized versions of the synthetic marijuana that had been sweeping across the country.

  This store, like many others in the city still sold the illegal substances, but they were hard to catch at it since they only sold to customers they knew. They knew John, but what they didn’t know was that he had been arrested two weeks earlier as he left the emergency room of the local hospital. He had been using the drug when he flipped out – his words to describe trying to beat the hell out of his wife for clearly working in tandem with the devil to poison his Dr Pepper – and was now in the store to buy the drug with money Tink had given him, all of the serial numbers carefully marked and recorded in a log at the police station.

  In the car with Tink was another detective, Mel Massey, as well as two task force officers sitting in the back seat. Once John came out of the store with the brown bag, and immediately reached up to scratch his forehead – the signal designed to let them know his purchase had been successful – Tink and the men in his car would be the first ones through the door. The two men in the store’s parking lot, one on the payphone and the other pumping gas, would take John Malcolm into custody so the store employees wouldn’t know he had tipped them off. It was just a waiting game now. There was no sense burning the bridge in case it could be used again at another store.

  “So Tink, you know you will eventually have to settle down and get married,” Mel teased him from the passenger seat. Mel, like everyone else in the English speaking world had no idea he was sleeping with the woman he had rescued some time back from Daniel Morrow. That wouldn’t have gone over well in public opinion. They all assumed, and he was happy to let them, that he still lived alone, eating TV dinners and smoking too much. Tink would be correct if he assumed they had a pool going on whether they would find his body on the toilet or the recliner. Of course, before the clock struck noon, they would know about Lana; there would just be no avoiding it.

  “What, and give up all the peace and quiet like all you assholes have?”

  “Exactly,” Mel shot back, “exactly like us. Don’t you know misery loves company?”

  “Nah, I’m good. I like my life like it is, quiet and uncomplicated.”

  “Yeah, but a little noise is easy enough to ignore when it comes attached to a tasty little piece of ass.”

  This brought chuckles from the guys in the back seat, the two task force members – task force was the police code name for arrogant pricks just one step away from taking out Wal-Mart shoppers with a sniper rifle – obvious experts on the finer points of the mysterious world of ass-getting.

  “Um-hum,” Tink teased, “like you could smell a piece of ass if it sat on your face, Mel.”

  “I’ll have you know, you old fuck, that I am frequently…wait, heads up boys, that’s our guy.”

  All four men looked back at the store, just as the message came over the two-way radio from one of the other cars, to see John Malcolm scratching his head as he walked around the side of the building.

  “Let’s go,” Tink said, getting out of the car.

  3

  Lana was standing in the kitchen, holding the black mask over the trashcan. Her latest trip to the prison had filled her with more guilt than her first. The only thing that allowed her any self respect in the matter was that at least this time, she hadn’t used Tink as some sort of a proxy fuck to satisfy the urges Daniel had invoked within her. He deserved better than she had been giving him, and she intended to give him that. It was time to put the past behind her and get on with her life, a wonderful life with Tink at the helm. But just as she dropped the cursed black cloth she had spent hours making onto the top of the container, seconds before she intended to tie the bag and carry it out to the dumpster in the alley hiding her guilt forever, her phone rang.

  “What!” she screamed into the phone.

  The man on the other end of the phone was Mel Massey. He had taken Tink’s phone and scrolled through the address book to find her name at Tink’s request – the only request he made before he lost consciousness – and he had called to tell her what had happened.

  “Tink’s been shot,” he repeated into a phone that was already falling from Lana’s hand.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sergio Marsilis pulled into the Wholesale Warehouse just before noon and sat there with the car idling for what must have seemed like an eternity to anyone else. For the last two hours he had been driving around, not really going anywhere in particular, or in accordance with a specific pattern. He vaguely remembered an occasional red light, and he was fairly certain he had stopped to let a dog cross the street, a black lab id he was remembering correctly. Aside for that, he couldn’t have given any account of where he had been or what he had seen.

  As he sat behind the wheel of the Saab, the radio just loud enough to know it was on, but with no way of telling what was being sung by whom or what fantastic product was being endorsed by the always helpful Rockin’ Ray, the unquestionably trustworthy morning DJ for KJAM, the only station you’ll ever need, guaranteed! He was staring at his cell phone, at the four missed calls, all from the same number – 733-8475.

  He knew the number by heart in spite of the fact he had long ago deleted its owner from his address book. He had ignored the first call, and when it had immediately rung again, he had glanced at his phone long enough to see who was calling. By the time it had stopped ringing on the fourth call, it had been an angry Sergio who had pulled the car into the parking lot. What in the world could she possibly have to say that he wanted to hear today of all days? Not a damn thing, that’s what.

  It was no wonder he hadn’t been able to make her happy; he wasn’t the sick twisted fuck that had kidnapped her, just a guy that actually loved her, but that wasn’t what she wanted of course. She had made that point clearly enough, and what he had seen this morning only proved that even further. He found himself wondering why he even bothered, why he still gave a shit at all. He was trying to understand, even making an attempt at becoming what she wanted, but he knew he couldn’t go that far, not as far as that fucker had gone even if it was what she wanted.

  He got out of his car and headed into the
building, still holding the cell phone, but thirty minutes later, he was back in his car. It had been ample time to go to his office, call the corporate headquarters and resign. That had taken less than a minute, since he had not been interested in the speech, hanging up before Todd Anderson could even get started with it really. What took the most time was closing all his accounts with the company, opting out of the retirement fund, cancelling the 401K, etc.

  He turned up the volume on the Pioneer in time to hear good Ol’ Ray explain that The Lumber Library had anything he could possibly need to complete any project he could possibly imagine. Good to know, he reasoned and pulled out of the parking lot. By the time he turned onto MLK Boulevard, Ol’ Ray had finally shut up and Alice Cooper was singing some maniacal lyrics about a bed of nails, just another Way Back Lunch Hour classic, brought to you by the programming geniuses at KJAM, the only ones who “still give a damn about you”, or so they were fond of saying. That was good since no one else did.

  Sergio made two stops on the way back to his apartment. The first had been to check Rockin’ Ray’s claim, and it had in fact been accurate as they did have anything he could possibly need, well almost. If he had been able to get everything he needed, he wouldn’t have had to make the second stop, the one at Aaron Skinner’s house. He didn’t live in Colorado, or even Washington State, so his second purchase of the day required a coded phone call about “flowers” and then a trip to the lower income side of town that Aaron called home. He was pretty sure he still had the pipe somewhere at the apartment, somewhere in the back of the bedroom closet most likely.

  The delivery men from The Lumber Library showed up a little after three, and by then he had already drawn out the schematics in a spiral notebook, and had started on his second joint, and the desired ingredient – not the THC, but the ingredient “fuck it” that Katt Williams was always saying the weed had in it – had begun to take effect. He opened the door and returned to his recliner, watching the men carry the lumber into the bedroom. The “fuck it” was in full effect now and he continued to smoke the joint as the men worked, simply nodding as the men smiled a seemingly jealous recognition that it wasn’t a Marlboro between his fingers. Apparently the pipe had long ago disappeared.

  Sergio tipped each of the men a fifty dollar bill as they left, and while they clearly appreciated it, he was sure he saw a look in the eyes of one of them that said he would gladly give it back if Sergio would only be so kind as to light up one more time and share. Maybe another day perhaps, but he had a lot of work to do right now. He locked the door behind them and headed into the bedroom.

  2

  Lori was a bit taken back when he opened the door completely naked, his hair still wet from the shower he had just stepped out of, but she gave him a pleased smile just the same. She locked the door and followed him into the area that served both as a kitchen and dining room. He again saw the amusingly puzzled look on her face as her eyes fell on the items stacked on the table. The rope, the restraints and aside from the longer straps, everything she knew from the bedroom was here.

  “In here tonight then?” She was looking at the closed bedroom door.

  Sergio didn’t answer, only grinned, taking the bottom of her shirt and lifting it over her head. She stepped out of the sandals, but when she reached for the waistband of her shorts, he stopped her hands and lifted them above her head. He took hold of the shorts himself and lowered them to her feet before stepping back enough to let her step out of them as well. She let her head roll forward and her long black hair fell over closed eyes when he softly touched the small section of red silk that covered most of her pussy. She was wearing panties tonight, and he was actually glad of it.

  He took her by the shoulders and turned her around, and she did what was expected of her, placing her hands obediently behind her back. Sergio bound them together, taking the time to place a kiss on the back of her neck as he worked. He retrieved the hood from the table and placed it over head, only instead of connecting it to her hands as he had always done before, he produced a small padlock and tightened the cable enough so the hood couldn’t be removed before locking it in place.

  Sergio was watching her as he pulled the strip of duct tape from the roll, and just as he expected, her head tilted slightly in uncertainty at the sound. As he placed the first strip over the blowjob hole in the mask, he saw her lips part as if she was about to say something. Was it “revolution?” It really didn’t matter now, he mused. After all, once your lips are sealed, no one really gives a shit what your safe word was, now did they? He rounded her neck twice with the roll of tape, securing the first piece in place over her mouth, but careful not to wrap it so tight it restricted her breathing.

  He took a step back and watched as she wiggled under the restraints that bound her hands. Mumbled protests – he assumed they were protests, though a part of him wondered if she might be trying to thank him, but he couldn’t be certain – escaped, barely audible from inside the hood. When she tried to walk backward toward the door, he reached out with his left hand and caught hold of the thin cable running just under her chin at the bottom of the hood.

  “Relax, little one,” he said coyly, “you’re going to just love this.”

  Sergio Marcilis reached behind his back, and then twisting at the hips and pivoting on his right toes, punched her in the mouth as hard as he could. The bound and gagged Lori tumbled backward over the recliner, long luscious legs pointing toward the ceiling, spreading in midair and revealing the wetness that just seconds earlier had begun to appear on the red silk material. The recliner toppled under her weight and she was sent sprawling on the other side of it, feet still reaching up to the ceiling. He couldn’t contain the laugh that found its way to his lips at the comical sight of her in this position.

  “I told you that you were going to love this,” he teased as he grabbed her by one of her wrists and began to drag her to the bedroom. Lori tried to get her feet under her as he pulled her along, giving the impression of some awkward two legged crab walk. The elusive Red Crotched Crab makes its way to its secret mating place, he thought to himself as he opened the bedroom door and pulled her inside.

  He had no doubts that if she could have seen it, Lori would have been impressed with what he had created in anticipation of her arrival. The wooden structure covered more than half of the bedroom floor and extended to within a foot of the ceiling. From the side, it held a triangular shape, as its front and back joined together at the top, both designed for restraining someone to its frame. The front side, the side facing the door, had a crossed pattern that allowed the lucky woman to be tied spread eagle, adjustable loops of rope in place for each foot and hand. It was to this side that he led the bound Lori.

  Her grogginess from the recent events in the kitchen allowed him an easy time to remove the restraints from her hands and secure them to the structure above her head. Once he was satisfied she could not free herself, he walked to the back of the structure. There a pulley system had been installed which enabled him to pull the adjustable slats upward, lifting her completely off the floor. He then returned to the front of the masterpiece and bound each of her suspended ankles to opposite sides of the frame. She had kicked at him weakly with a free foot as he bound the other, but there was no real force or conviction to it. He knew she would like this.

  With Lori now affixed to her wooden bed, the void space between the slats allowed him to walk between her legs. He tore the red panties from her body with little effort and tossed them nonchalantly onto her stomach. Adjustable petals, similar to those used on wheel chairs, were then raised and locked into place under her feet to help support her weight, so she would not be hanging from her wrists.

  “Comfy?”

  His rhetorical question was met with incoherent mumbling. He took that as an affirmative and crossed the room to retrieve a small black canvas bag. From it, he took a small bottle of Astroglide lubricant. He squirted a generous amount of the gel onto the tips of his fingers and then a
pplied it to her crotch. The dildo that was then inserted into her was purple, with lifelike features contoured on its surface. Its base was black and doubled as the control for the adjustable vibration features. He had affixed a metal loop on this base and after he was satisfied it would stay in place for the moment, again walked to the back of the structure.

  Hanging from the center beam, were four bungee straps. Two of these he tossed over her shoulders and the other two he pulled underneath her as he walked back to the place between her legs. After he adjusted the switch to a medium setting, the hooked ends of all four straps were attached to the metal loop on the dildo. The vibrator was now unable to come out of her on its own as it hummed inside of her. He stood back and admired his creation. It was good. Hell, it was brilliant.

  “I’m going to leave you for a while,” he told her, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he spoke. “Now, don’t you go anywhere while I’m gone.”

  He closed the bedroom door behind him, retrieved his keys from the counter in the kitchen and left the apartment. There was a movie playing at the mall he had been meaning to see. Lori would be just fine where he left her, so he couldn’t think of a better time to go check out the movie. It was supposed to be real funny.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  1

  Lana sat quietly in the chair beside Tink’s bed, with her trembling hands folded tightly on her lap. It had been more than an hour since the last time he had opened his eyes, so she had been just watching him, allowing him to get the rest the doctors had said he needed at this point. The other detective – Mel, if she remembered right – had come by twice already, and while she had seen something in his eyes that said he couldn’t believe she was really who she was, he had been kind and never said anything about it, then or the next time he had visited Tink.