strike. In the light from the lamp beside her, he saw that Nate’s face was bathed with blood that spilled out of a gash on his forehead. No huge, gaping wound, though. Tanya hadn’t chopped him with the hatchet’s sharp edge. But it was the sharp edge, now, that hovered above him.
“Get her clothes for her, Duke. She’s gotta look right.”
Nodding, he picked up his hammer and stood. He stepped closer to the girl. She hadn’t moved since Tanya turned the lamp on. She didn’t look back at Jeremy.
“Put your hands on your head,” he gasped.
Her body straightened. She raised her arms and interlaced her fingers on top of her head.
Jeremy stared at her back, her smooth tanned skin, the pale mounds of her buttocks, her slender legs.
He took his hand away from his chin. The rubber glove was slick with blood.
He raked the claws of the hammer down the middle of the girl’s back. She made a hissing sound, and flinched rigid as the claws gouged twin furrows in her skin. Blood began to well from the rips.
He glanced at Tanya.
Tanya nodded. She wore a tight smile.
Jeremy stepped to the front of the girl. Her eyes fixed on him. They looked frightened and hurt, but they were filled with loathing, as if she longed to destroy him.
He smeared his blood onto her chin and cheeks. He slapped her face, rocking her head sideways. But she faced him again. She bared her teeth and kept glaring at him, but didn’t resist as his hand moved over her, caressing, squeezing, pinching. When he rammed the hammer head into her belly, she folded and dropped to her knees, wheezing for air. His knee crashed her mouth shut, snapped her head backward, and she tumbled sprawling onto the floor.
“That’s enough,” Tanya said. “We’re running low on time.”
While he searched for the girl’s clothes, Tanya cuffed one of Nate’s hands to the bed frame. Jeremy found the backpack inside the closet. He took jeans and a faded blue work shirt from the pack. He tossed them onto the girl and watched her slow, pained struggle to put them on. Before she could button the shirt, he snatched her by the hair, hauled her up, and cuffed her hands behind her back.
He took off his belt, slipped one end through the buckle, and dropped the loop over the girl’s head.
Tanya grabbed Nate’s keys off the top of the dresser. She stuffed them into her pouch, then turned off the light.
“Okay,” she said. “When we get outside, I’ll bust a window to make it look like a break-in. Don’t let me forget.”
“Right,” Jeremy said.
Pulling his belt like a leash, he led the girl into the dark hallway.
Thirty-nine
The bed wobbled slightly, stirring Dave from sleep. Through his closed eyelids he saw light. Is it morning? he wondered. Joan had made him set the alarm clock for midnight, but maybe he’d turned it off in his sleep or something. He hoped so. He hoped it was morning.
A bare bottom sat down on him. He squirmed under the pleasant weight and opened his eyes. With a tug of disappointment and fear, he saw that the light came from the bedside lamp. Joan was straddling him, hands against the mattress near his shoulders. She smiled gently and lowered herself. Her nipples touched his chest, and she rocked herself to make them move, stroking him. Then he felt the solid warm heaviness of her breasts. They pushed against him. Her mouth covered his.
He ran his hands slowly up and down her back.
She lifted her mouth away from him. “Time to shine, honey.”
“Time to rise and shine,” he said.
He saw the familiar mischief in her eyes.
“Oh,” he said. “I get it.”
She kissed him again, then said, “We have to go.”
“I was afraid of that. What time is it?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“What happened to the alarm?”
“I shut it off. I was awake anyway.”
“Couldn’t sleep?” Dave asked.
“Didn’t want to. It seemed like such a waste of time. It was so much nicer, staying awake and looking at you.”
“Voyeur.”
“You got it, pal.”
“You should’ve woken me.”
“Didn’t want to. You’ve had a hard night. You needed your sleep. That’s why I didn’t wake you up sooner.” She kissed him once more. “Okay, now, at ’em.”
She climbed off Dave, taking away her weight and smoothness and heat. He sat up and pulled the blanket to his waist. He watched Joan step into her panties, watched her pull a T-shirt down over her head. When her face reappeared, she said, “Show’s over.