darlin'. It's our job, Chase's and mine, to see to your safety."
Carrie sighed. For a moment she looked defeated. Then she inhaled, and raised her head. "A part of me wondered. I didn't know if I was just being paranoid, or if my instincts were at work. Let me tell you something. That bastard comes near me when I'm anywhere near a knife, I'll sure as hell geld him."
"I wouldn't expect any less of you," Chase said. "And you go right on not worrying about the maybe of him. You've got Brian, and me, and hell, the entire town of Lusty. You've got your sister." Chase nodded. "You can bet your very fine ass that we're going to be taking care, and keeping our eyes open. Because, sugar? That's the Benedict way."
Chloe sighed and reached for her coffee cup. The Benedict way sounded damn good to her.
* * * *
George Lockwood really regretted having to hurt the pastor's wife. She'd seemed like such a nice lady, small and delicate and ladylike. She certainly was a much better lady than Pastor Jack deserved, of that he had no doubt.
The woman reminded him of his Carolyn. When Jack had brought him home, she'd served him a very nice cup of tea and a plate of homemade ginger cookies.
George loved ginger cookies.
And, she'd smiled at him - not as if she was looking down her nose at him, the way her husband did. She had a nice smile.
He imagined that she hadn't gotten a very good deal, marrying the man she had. In all likelihood, Jack Kenny had a small dick that didn't work worth a fuck.
George snickered at the joke he'd just made in his head. He stood back and looked at his handiwork. Pastor Jack was trussed up right and tight. He wouldn't be getting out of his restraints anytime soon. George had hit him pretty hard, and the man was out cold. When he awoke - if he awoke - he'd find himself bound and gagged and wearing George's leg shackle monitor.
He looked down at his feet to where Isabella Kenny had fallen after he'd clocked her on the chin. He supposed he'd have to put her on that king-sized bed next to her husband. He almost hated to do that. He'd bet she hated being in bed with the man.
George would tie her up, of course, so that she couldn't release good old Jack. Not that she would necessarily want to, but a wife had to be dutiful to her husband, even if her husband was a pompous, self-righteous asshole.
George sensed that Isabella Kenny was a very dutiful wife.
He bent down and picked her up off the floor. As he laid her on the bed, her female scent surrounded him, reminding him just how long it had been since he'd had his sweet Carolyn.
He'd taken what he wanted when he wanted from that other little whore, and for that, he'd ended up in prison for ten long years. That had been a mistake, one that wouldn't be repeated. When he'd fucked that slut, he'd imagined her to be his Carolyn. Of course she hadn't been, but she was just a girl. His mom used to always tell him that girls were no good.
You stay away from those girls, Georgie, they're all no good, no good at all. That was how he'd known that God had sent Carolyn to him. His mother had been so set against all the other females, yet she'd taken that one into her own home. George understood the truth. Carolyn had been perfect and pure, which was why God had sent her to him. His mother had understood that, too.
The police had come, and they'd arrested him, depriving him of his right to go after his property, and of receiving his due. They really shouldn't have done that.
This time, he wouldn't have that problem. Once he had Carolyn, once he'd punished her and explained to her the way things were going to be from now on, everything would work out right. He'd take them to a place where no one would ever find them.
He felt pretty certain that once old Jack here got free, he'd just forget he had ever met George Lockwood. He'd likely be too embarrassed to admit he'd been had. He'd happily wear that leg shackle until it got turned off by the state.
He looked over at Jack, a middle-aged, balding, pudgy excuse for a man. A pompous man who used the