Chapter 55

FIFTY-FIVE

She’d chosen to jog over the South Bridge this time. Alone. Tight black yoga pants hugged her curves. A matching sports bra did little to cover the way her breasts jiggled as she ran. When she had emerged from her apartment building looking like a fantasy and dressed in the same clothes she’d worn the day she’d lured him to the city park, he knew today was the day. Finally, she was ready to give herself to him. Why else would she have chosen this area of the city? It bordered farmland the next county over. Few businesses or homes had been built in this area. It didn’t even look like it belonged in a city. There wasn’t a lot of foot traffic or even cars. Everyone always used the East Bridge instead.

He’d followed her slowly in his car until he could predict her path. If she wanted to get him alone, she’d cross the South Bridge and wait near the little shoulder on the other side that dipped toward the riverbank below. It was shaded. Cozy. Private. Now, he stood in that very spot, his hard-on straining painfully against his pants, and waited for her. As she passed, he darted out and grabbed her, looping an arm around her slender waist and pulling her into the little alcove. She let out a scream that sent lust spiraling through his body.

“You son of a bitch! Let me go!” She scratched at his forearms and when he didn’t release her, she clenched her fists and hit his arms.

He put her down and pressed her into the wall of the nearest bridge support, covering her body with his and burying his face in her neck. Her small frame went rigid. She was completely turned on.

“Why did you make me wait so long?” he asked, hands roaming her body. “Nobody likes a tease.”

She slapped at his chest, pushing against him with all her might. “I’m not teasing you. There’s been a misunderstanding.”

He took a step back, narrowing his eyes at her. “Oh, like the last time?”

She bent to tie her shoe. “I don’t want to talk about last time. In fact, we should never talk about it. To anyone.”

A grin spread across his face. “You don’t want me to tell your secrets.”

She straightened and said nothing. That was all the confirmation he needed. He had something over her. It was surprising how good it felt. How hard it made him. This was going to be very, very fun. A tiny yelp burst through her parted lips when he lunged forward and collared her throat with one of his hands. Adorable.

He licked the side of her face, tasting the salt and sweat from her jog. “If you want me to keep your secrets, you need to give me something.”

Her breath smelled like Cherry Coke. “Oh, I’ll give you something,” she said, only seconds before he felt a sharp, stinging pain near his belly button. He glanced down between their bodies, his brain unable to process what he was seeing. “What the hell…?”

The handle of a knife protruded from his abdomen. He stumbled back, away from her. Both hands curled around the handle. She watched him with an unnerving grin on her face. He tried to pull it out. Were you supposed to pull a knife out, or leave it in? Why would she invite him here and then stab him? Unwilling to let her watch him, he put his back to her and focused on the river rushing along the bank thirty feet below. He hoped the blade wasn’t long. Blood stained his hands.

Her feet crunched over rocks as she drew nearer. “What I really want you to do with my secrets is take them to the grave.”

Something slammed into his back. His body pitched forward and fell, tumbling down the embankment, a knife inside him, until he plunged into the churning water.