Junior's body was thrown inside. Having fallen to the floor, Kiara looked up to find Odell in the doorway. Vomit rose in her throat.
"No, no, no,” she cried out.
Junior lay in a heap, unconscious at her feet. Both his eyes were swollen shut, and blood covered the front of his shirt. He was so still, she feared he was dead.
Odell stepped into the room and slammed the door. “Yes, yes, yes. Bitch! Did you think you could get away from me, Kiara?” He shook his finger in her face, taunting her. “It took me some time and money, but I finally found you. Actually, I had to work like a dog to gather enough to pay the private investigator."
So he didn't have friends who knew people like he had claimed all the other times he found her.
He paced across the room, looking over the space. “It was harder this time too because every time I turned around, the guy I hired would just change his mind and not help me. You're going to pay for that frustration.” He patted the front of his pants. “Over and over again, you'll pay. And then I'll beat your face in until you're dead. How do you like that, Kiara?"
She dropped her gaze to the floor and then to where the bat had flown when Odell burst in. She gauged whether she could reach it before he got to her. She had to try.
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Chapter Eight
"J-Jiro?"
"Kiara, anata .” His voice sent shivers through her body. Not until she heard it, did she realize just how much she missed him.
Her hands shook as she tried to maintain a hold on the phone. She sniffed and swallowed before speaking again. “Jiro, I need your help. Please."
The line was silent.
"Are you there?” Tears filled her eyes thinking he didn't want anything to do with her after she had dropped him and his sister.
"I'm here.” He spoke softly. “What's wrong?"
How could she explain what she had done, what had happened? She glanced down at the bodies on the floor and backed away until she hit the wall between her bedroom and the bathroom. “Jiro, I think they're dead. Both of them.” Blood dripped in her eye from her forehead, and she brushed it away. The reality of her actions hit her hard, and she dropped the phone on the floor before retching uncontrollably.
She stumbled into the bathroom and slid down to the cold tiled floor. Resting her head on the side of the tub, she waited for her spinning head to clear. Sobs wracked her body until she shook from head to toe, curling against the confusion and pain.
"Ms. Jackson?"
She jumped at the unfamiliar voice, looking blindly around the bathroom for the bat that couldn't be there when she had left it covered in blood in the living room.
A man stepped into the open doorway, averting his eyes. “Ms. Jackson, I work for Jiro Fuschida. I'm here to clean things up. He'll be here in a couple hours. If you would stay in here or the bedroom until I'm finished, that would be best."
She stared. “W-What? Clean up?” Impossibly, she was thinking of a maid. This muscle bound man was nobody's maid. “I don't understand."
He hesitated. “Mr. Fuschida had me working here in this state for a while."
"Let me guess,” she interrupted. “For six months?"
He didn't confirm it. “Like I said, I will do the clean up. You'll be happy to know that one of the men is still alive."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling like she would vomit again. Her stomach had to be empty by now. Jiro had had someone watching her. Why couldn't he come to the house earlier, before Odell had slammed his fist into the side of her head? And before she had cracked the bat across his. Suddenly, she realized what the man had said. Only one of the men remained alive.
Clawing her way to her feet, she braced herself for the news of just which man was still breathing. She was either a murderer or the cause of an innocent man being killed, someone whose only crime had been to be attracted to her. If Odell was alive, it might mean she was not free of him, probably never would
"No, no, no,” she cried out.
Junior lay in a heap, unconscious at her feet. Both his eyes were swollen shut, and blood covered the front of his shirt. He was so still, she feared he was dead.
Odell stepped into the room and slammed the door. “Yes, yes, yes. Bitch! Did you think you could get away from me, Kiara?” He shook his finger in her face, taunting her. “It took me some time and money, but I finally found you. Actually, I had to work like a dog to gather enough to pay the private investigator."
So he didn't have friends who knew people like he had claimed all the other times he found her.
He paced across the room, looking over the space. “It was harder this time too because every time I turned around, the guy I hired would just change his mind and not help me. You're going to pay for that frustration.” He patted the front of his pants. “Over and over again, you'll pay. And then I'll beat your face in until you're dead. How do you like that, Kiara?"
She dropped her gaze to the floor and then to where the bat had flown when Odell burst in. She gauged whether she could reach it before he got to her. She had to try.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eight
"J-Jiro?"
"Kiara, anata .” His voice sent shivers through her body. Not until she heard it, did she realize just how much she missed him.
Her hands shook as she tried to maintain a hold on the phone. She sniffed and swallowed before speaking again. “Jiro, I need your help. Please."
The line was silent.
"Are you there?” Tears filled her eyes thinking he didn't want anything to do with her after she had dropped him and his sister.
"I'm here.” He spoke softly. “What's wrong?"
How could she explain what she had done, what had happened? She glanced down at the bodies on the floor and backed away until she hit the wall between her bedroom and the bathroom. “Jiro, I think they're dead. Both of them.” Blood dripped in her eye from her forehead, and she brushed it away. The reality of her actions hit her hard, and she dropped the phone on the floor before retching uncontrollably.
She stumbled into the bathroom and slid down to the cold tiled floor. Resting her head on the side of the tub, she waited for her spinning head to clear. Sobs wracked her body until she shook from head to toe, curling against the confusion and pain.
"Ms. Jackson?"
She jumped at the unfamiliar voice, looking blindly around the bathroom for the bat that couldn't be there when she had left it covered in blood in the living room.
A man stepped into the open doorway, averting his eyes. “Ms. Jackson, I work for Jiro Fuschida. I'm here to clean things up. He'll be here in a couple hours. If you would stay in here or the bedroom until I'm finished, that would be best."
She stared. “W-What? Clean up?” Impossibly, she was thinking of a maid. This muscle bound man was nobody's maid. “I don't understand."
He hesitated. “Mr. Fuschida had me working here in this state for a while."
"Let me guess,” she interrupted. “For six months?"
He didn't confirm it. “Like I said, I will do the clean up. You'll be happy to know that one of the men is still alive."
She pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling like she would vomit again. Her stomach had to be empty by now. Jiro had had someone watching her. Why couldn't he come to the house earlier, before Odell had slammed his fist into the side of her head? And before she had cracked the bat across his. Suddenly, she realized what the man had said. Only one of the men remained alive.
Clawing her way to her feet, she braced herself for the news of just which man was still breathing. She was either a murderer or the cause of an innocent man being killed, someone whose only crime had been to be attracted to her. If Odell was alive, it might mean she was not free of him, probably never would
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