Freeing Lana Page 17

  Now dressed comfortably in an old pair of faded jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts, he wrote a quick note and left it on the table for Tink telling him he had borrowed twenty bucks from his wallet and went out to catch a movie. He might grab burger as well while he was out, he added. Then he left the house intent to simply enjoy the ability to walk around just as he damned well pleased. It would be well after dark by the time he made it back to the house, having really enjoyed himself more than he had anticipated.

  3

  When Tink woke up, he spent the first few moments groping around in the completely darkened bedroom, as concern threatened to spill over into absolute fear of the unknown. But by the time he found the dresser, recognizing it for what it was and knowing then where he was, the fear had subsided, replaced by a combination of disappointment and anger. The remaining pain pills hadn’t been enough to do the job after all and he was still alive.

  He made his way back to the bed and sat down, rubbing his head with shaking hands. His body still wanted to sleep as a result of the unsuccessful overdose. That was fine. After all, what was the hurry? The pistol would still be in the top of the closet when he woke up, still in the blue shoebox behind the stacks of old vinyl records that he hadn’t played in years. He fell back on the bed and was asleep again instantly.

  Chapter Forty

  1

  Lana drifted in a dreamlike state somewhere between heaven and hell, completely aware of what was happening, but unable to describe it even to herself. It just felt right, completely perfect. Somewhere in the distance – it could have been light years away as far as she knew – Sergio had moved down between her legs and was lovingly licking her throbbing pussy, creating a constant, never ending circuit of pleasure as the nerve endings in her body rolled together in a wave of blended tingling bliss, repeatedly sweeping over her.

  She slowly became aware that she had his hair clinched tightly in her hands as she pulled his face toward her. It was only by brute strength that he was able to keep himself from being suffocated, but he made neither protest nor effort to pull away. He simply maintained his proximity as he continued the lavish attention of her body’s desire. Lana tried to release her hold on him, but found her hands were cramped, locked in their position.

  She could feel the tip of his tongue as it bathed the outer most area of her labia before darting quickly, thickly inside of her. As his tongue slowly retreated, so tantalizingly slowly, he curled it forward, forcing it under her hood and forcefully pressing against her clit before returning to gentle licking again. Every pass his tongue caused her legs to tighten further against the sides of his ears. She had no doubt that even if she had been able to speak, to beg him to stop, there was no way he could have ever heard it.

  She had no idea how long he had been at this or how long he intended to continue. The last thing she remembered, he was on top of her, driving his dick inside her, and then the colors had swirled and there was nothing but pleasure. Some feeling was beginning to come back to her hands, causing them to ache, but she still couldn’t release her hold on his hair. She was however finally able to stop pulling his face into the clutches of her sex. Pain shot down both of her arms at once in dreadful doses, but with a concentrated effort she was able to finally push him away slightly.

  Sergio looked up at her, and she saw his was faced glazed over like a cop leaving a donut shop. He grinned. She managed a weak smile of her own, though her face was still for the most part locked in a tightened state of passion.

  “Would you like me to stop?”

  His voice was hoarse, the words forcing their way out of his dry throat in a croaking manner, barely understandable. Jesus, how long had he been there, worshipping her? Lana managed to nod her head slightly and was grateful to see him rise to his knees. As her fingers released their grip and his hair pulled free between them, he rose to his feet and walked toward the kitchen. She listened with appreciative wonder as he filled a glass of water and drank it quickly. It was a process he repeated several times before he returned to the living room with a glass for her in his hand.

  It would be a few minutes before Lana could sit herself up and take the glass from him. Her own mouth was dry as sand and her throat ached from what she assumed were countless, guttural screams of ecstatic joy over the course of… well, however much time had passed. She had finished the water and he had started for the kitchen to refill it before she dared to make an attempt at speaking.

  “Dear God, what was that?”

  Sergio stopped and turned back toward her, smiling broadly.

  “That,” he said, emphasizing the word, “was absolutely beautiful.”

  Lana’s entire body ached. She had to move in careful, short motions as her muscles threatened to constrict with every movement, a lesson she learned quickly. She made it to the recliner and propped herself against its side, still sitting naked on the floor, unable to go much further. Sergio returned and handed her the refilled glass.

  “I’ll run you a warm bath,” he said, turning on his heels.

  “The hotter the better,” she managed, smiling when he turned back toward her, “I may be in there a while.”

  “Hot it is then.”

  2

  Sergio was glad he had shut the bathroom door after he had helped Lana into the bathtub, because not long after he had returned to the kitchen intent on starting an early lunch, there was a knock on the door. He opened the door slightly and was surprised to see Mel Massey standing there. He had only met Mel once, but he knew who he was; he was Tink’s partner, and while he had seemed pleasant enough, Sergio would have happily gone the rest of his life without ever seeing him or his partner again. Checking over his shoulder slightly, Sergio opened the door enough to squeeze through it and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Detective Massey, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but Mel will do just fine,” the man said, sticking his hand out in front of him.

  Cautiously, Sergio took it in his own and shook it briskly the socially demanded minimum times, before letting it go. He studied the man carefully, unsure why he and Lana had warranted a visit from Tink’s partner in the first place, though he had a sneaking suspicion that he was here on behalf of her former lover in some futile attempt to make some weak ass apology. He wasn’t going to care too much for Sergio’s response if that as the case.

  “Ok, Mel then,” he said softly, not wanting to be overheard, “call me Sergio.”

  “Sergio, I was hoping to speak with Lana Martin, if that would be convenient,” the detective said. Sergio caught a hint of professionalism in the tone, but was well aware it would be present no matter what the man wanted, so he granted it no real credence.

  “I’m afraid it would most certainly not be convenient, Detective,” he said flatly.

  “I’m sorry, but I understood she’s staying here.”

  “She is.”

  “Is she not home then?”

  “She is,” Sergio repeated, his tone leaving no question that he was quickly growing weary of the conversation. Mel took a step back, his experience helping him to recognize the defensive stance Sergio was taking, and the seriousness behind it.

  “I can understand why you might be concerned by my presence, given everything that’s happened,” he said finally, “but there’s a thing or two that I need to tell her, in an official capacity.”

  “Whatever it is, I’ll be more than happy to pass it along to her.”

  The two men stood in the hallway, less than two feet between them, staring at each other. It was what men did when they came to an understanding, when each completely understood the stance of the other but was completely unmoved by it. Sergio would take a bullet before this man got into his apartment, and Detective Mel Massie could see it in his eyes.

  “Very well,” he finally said, “walk with me then. It isn’t something that needs to be overheard and taken out of context.”

  Sergio understood what he meant even before he nodded toward the door t
o his apartment, so he followed the man down the hallway to the stairs. Once they were outside the building, he took one of the cigarettes the detective offered, though he hadn’t smoked in a many years. He listened quietly as the man spoke, though the anger rose up in him. When he was finished, he thanks him and walked back to the apartment, unsure exactly how to tell Lana what had happened.

  He sat in his recliner, painfully aware of the sounds coming from the bathroom. She had stood up and was most likely drying off. In a moment, he would hear the hair dryer. That would last for a spell, but once the annoying sound ended, the countdown would begin. He would only have a few seconds more, and then he would have to tell her that Daniel Morrow was out of prison and somewhere free in the city.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Are you going to be ok?”

  She didn’t answer, instead continuing to stare out the window in front of her, her teeth grinding softly behind her tightened lips. She heard him, and she intended to answer, but her brain wasn’t quite responding in the timely manner she would have preferred. Lana managed to look up at him and nod, a faint fuck my life smile on her face. She had to remind herself to stop nodding after realizing her head was still moving seemingly on its own.

  “I should probably get a restraining order, don’t you think?”

  “He said one was already in place as a condition of his release,” Sergio said. “the same goes for Tink as well.”

  Lana looked up at him, not really expecting that. Somewhere down the road, there would be questions for her, and while that was infuriating, just the thought of Daniel Morrow on the streets frightened her. He could be somewhere not far out that very window, down there on the street below, hiding just in the shadows of the nearby alley, just watching…and waiting.

  “I’m fine,” she said, not really realizing the question had long since passed her by.

  Sergio just nodded. If she had looked closer, or even at all, she would have easily been able to tell he didn’t believe it for a second. His face was drawn back in a worried scowl, and he knew perfectly well that she wasn’t fine, not even close. And she knew it as well; she doubted she would be able to walk out the door anytime soon, preferring instead to remain indoors, the door locked and the curtains drawn. Forever, if necessary.

  “You look tired,” he said, forcing a smile, “would you like to go lie down for a bit?”

  “Yeah, I think a nap might do me some good after the workout you put me through.”

  It was a veiled attempt to change the subject as well as lending credence to the notion that the news had not affected her as she and Sergio both knew damn well it had. There was no need to talk about it since there was nothing they could do about it. Sure, she could appeal it, but all that would really do would be out her face on the news, and all she really wanted was to disappear. They could say what they wanted about her, but that didn’t mean she intended to listen to it.

  She followed Sergio into the bedroom, and slumped onto the bed which was now in the corner of the room. His contraption took up a lot of room, and while she had yet to be strapped to the monstrosity, she knew she would be some day, and as she lay on her side, her knees pulled up to her chest, she took a long look at what he had built. It was a thing of beauty; there was denying that. Maybe tonight, she though as she closed her eyes.

  She had done her best not to think about Daniel or the time she spent captive in his home, but the dream came just as she had feared, and Lana was powerless to stop it. In the dream, she was tied to a steel bed with no mattress or even so much as a sheet. In front of her, a pane of glass stood defiantly between her and a laughing Daniel Morrow. He held the black hood in one of his hands, taunting her with it. She was screaming, but the more she protested, the louder he laughed, drowning out her pleas with his sadistic cackle.

  “I knew you would come,” he would say, “do you want this?”

  He held the hood up to the glass and then began laughing again as she struggled with the restraints trying to break free and get to the hood. It was her salvation, her sanctuary. In its darkness, she was free from Daniel, from any and all restraint that had once bound her, but he had taken it away from her again. The demented bastard knew she wasn’t afraid of him, of anything, but she needed that darkness, that freedom.

  Lana woke up wiping the tears from her face, fearing she would never be free again. He had somehow managed to take away the one thing she needed, and he was using it to torture her in an entirely new way.

  Lana looked around in the dark room, the light coming through the small crack under the door allowing her to just make out the room. She had slept much longer than she would have thought, but it was clearly already night. She stumbled to the door and went out into the apartment. The television was on and the volume was barely loud enough to hear. Sergio wasn’t there. For an instant, she panicked, but the door was locked and soon it passed.

  Still not completely recovered from the dehydration of the previous events, she went to the kitchen for a drink. One of Sergio’s Miller Lights would do just fine, she reasoned. He would just have to deal with the smoke, as she had no intention of sitting outside in the open, not even at night, especially at night. She went out onto the balcony long enough to get her smokes and the small ashtray she kept with them, slamming the glass door shut and locking it immediately behind her once back inside.

  She lit one of the cigarettes before she reached the table, and as she sat down heavily in one of the chairs, she noticed a note. She picked it up and read it.

  Lana,

  Don’t worry - everything will be fine.

  Be back soon

  I love you,

  Sergio

  2

  “I don’t know what the hell you pulled to get out of prison, but I promise you that you’ll never hurt her again,” Sergio said, holding the knife to Daniel’s throat, a small red line already showing from when he had first applied the knife to its present location.

  Daniel Morrow had been sleeping in his father’s recliner when he slipped through the front door. He had watched him for some time from the window before making the decision to come inside. He didn’t know of Tink was home, but he hadn’t seen any sign of him. A quick look in the back rooms would have confirmed it, but he hadn’t wanted to run the risk of Daniel waking up and getting away. He did his best to keep his voice down, just in case.

  Somehow, the fucking prick had been sleeping soundly, sounder than he imagined Lana would ever sleep again. He attributed that to a complete lack of conscience, the only thing that could explain his very existence the way Sergio saw it. But sleeping soundly he had been, and he hadn’t so much as stirred when he put the knife to his neck. Even when Sergio thumped him on the forehead with one of his fingers, he didn’t budge. Finally, he had slapped him, but even then he had taken his time waking up, and when the knife had stopped him from sitting up, only then had he opened his eyes and seen Sergio.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Sergio said, pushing the edge of the blade against his skin.

  “Easy man, take it easy with that.”

  Sergio remarked that even with a knife at his throat, the man didn’t seem overly scared. Did he think maybe he had this coming, or was he so convinced of his own grandeur that he didn’t think Sergio would dare hurt him? It didn’t really matter to him; Lana would be safe no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

  “Take it easy? Fuck you,” he growled, his fingers tightening around the handle of the knife, “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat, you piece of shit.”

  The low laugh that escaped the man in the chair caught Sergio by surprise for a moment, before he realized the man truly was insane. His hands left the arms of the chair and came together on his lap, his fingers casually intertwined as he closed his eyes, still chuckling under his breath. When he opened his eyes again the humor was gone and he looked directly at Sergio.

  “I see,” h
e said,” you’re the boyfriend, aren’t you?”

  “I’m your worst Goddamn nightmare, that’s what I am,” Sergio replied.

  “Sure, sure you are,” he said, the laugh once again powering his voice.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you anyway?”

  “Apparently a lot, from what they tell me.”

  This time the laugh boiled out of his mouth loudly, his body bouncing in the chair below him. For a second, Sergio thought he would try to reach for the knife, but Sergio had most of his weight balanced over it and if the lunatic made any unexpected move, there was no doubt he wouldn’t live long enough to see it through fruition.

  “Shut the fuck up, Goddamn it,” he whispered, “or I’ll kill you right now.”

  “What, and miss all the juicy details? Don’t you want to hear the way she begged me to fuck her? Or the way she would lick the glass when she came to visit me at the prison?”

  “Shut up!”

  Daniel laughed louder now, knowing he was having some effect on him. Sergio hadn’t meant to but he had flinched when the man mentioned Lana visiting him at the prison. Everything else he could have dismissed as him trying to get under his skin, trying to cause him to make a mistake so he could get away. But he had seen her go to the prison. She really had been there.

  “Oh come on now, don’t be like that,” Daniel teased him. “You know she likes it rough, the rougher the better. Why hell, I’ll bet she still does.”

  “I’m warning you…”

  “Tell me, is there anything sweeter than the way she says thank you when you got your dick up her ass, anything at all?”

  Sergio’s hand began to shake as he imagined this sick fucker with Lana, and the possibility she had enjoyed it, any of it. The pictures, each worse than the one before it, streamed across his thoughts as the man’s laughing voice droned on and on in the background.