Sara Thacker's Blog: Red Skhye In Morning, page 7

Chapter 17: Part 3

Delanie picked up the phone and called Sam. He answered on the second ring but she couldn't understand anything he said. The storm was causing interference. She hung up, wondering what else she could do.



Waiting for trouble to come through the door was much more painful than she thought it would be. All night long she'd sat and worried about what might happen. She'd gotten up a few times to grab some water and food.

Alone never felt so scary before. The guy on the island with her couldn't be reached. She'd been calling him for the last three hours without any answer.



Something had gone wrong. The type of wrong that movie directors took advantage of. If her life story were splashed on the big screen this would be the part where the stupid blond ran upstairs to escape. Thank God for her that this house had no upstairs. Instead she plopped down in the corner and waited for something big and ugly to come through the door and attack her.



The sun was already up but still she didn't move. Sure, in the horror movies the killer attacked in the dark, but she knew better. She'd been in the movies and knew how manufactured everything was to promote fear. In real life the fear didn't leave just because the sun was up.



The rain pounded on the windows and she thought about getting up to close the shutters but the risk was too high. No, she would stay right here in this corner, hiding from the crazy bastard. She would be ready, no matter what happened.



A loud bang split the silence. Delanie popped open her eyes, realizing that she'd dozed off. The noise sounded again, then again.



Damn, she would have to check it out. She stood and shook out the kinks in her back and neck. The noise sounded again. Hell, she should have closed the damn shutters.



Her knees shook as she moved through the house. Just what she didn't need, another emergency. She should just let it go, but her responsible nature wouldn't let her. The owners would probably throw a fit at the mess her attacker made the other night.



She'd need to hire a crew to fix the problems. She hated celebrities who destroyed places and left messes. They gave a bad name to people like her. She couldn't remember the number of times someone would assume she would trash a place or act irresponsible.



The noise grew louder as she moved to the back bedroom. She saw the culprit. A shutter banged against the windowpane, rattling the window. She would need to go outside and secure the blasted thing.



Never again would she vacation alone. The crowds and paparazzi had driven her crazy but this was insane. She had to do everything by herself. She had no help and all she'd run into were problems. Well, the first week of her vacation had been nice. Enjoying the hot sun and the cool breezes without fear of being photographed or hounded had been wonderful. Relaxing, really relaxing had helped her to think. But the last few days had put her back in the annoying position of having to watch her back.



She went to the French doors to go fix the shutter but the wind drove the rain against that side of the house. The front door was her only option. She didn't like using that door. She couldn't see out and there weren't any peepholes. She wondered why in the world would anyone ever put up a door like this on a private island.



With a shaky hand she reached out and turned the knob, pushing the door open. Relief flooded through her when she saw no one was there. She was being ridiculous. No one else was on the island yet. The guy probably wasn't even watching her. He'd probably sailed off never to be seen again.



She watched the rain blow through the trees, soaking the ground. The storm died down for a moment and she decided to make a run for the other side of the house. By the time she reached the offending shutter her clothes were soaked. She latched the shutters closed, protecting the window if the storm got worse.



For a few seconds she contemplated closing the rest of the shutters but decided against when lightning flashed and thunder shook the island.



With the wind ripping at her clothes she dashed back to the front of the house, seeking shelter under the small porch. The island really was beautiful. She loved the palm trees and the ocean. Only if she felt safer would the place be perfect.



Lightning cracked again, forcing her back inside. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. The air-conditioned house chilled her to the bone. She dropped the towel and peeled off her clothes. The fear of being watched abated, allowing her to move through the house freely.



After pulling on her clothes she decided that sitting around wouldn't do her any good. The crazy bastard wouldn't attack when she wanted him too, no he'd wait until he thought he could take her by surprise.



She stepped into the hall and flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. "Great, now what?" The generator shouldn't have run out of gas. She'd made sure to check it when they returned to the island. Now she'd have to go down to the outbuilding that housed the beast and she'd just gotten dry.



Maybe waiting a few hours to get the electricity up and running wouldn't be too bad. The house seemed darker as she walked down the hall. The rooms were black, almost like the sun had set, but she knew better, it was early morning and the clouds couldn't be that thick.



She looked down the hall towards the main living rooms. They were dark too. Almost like someone had closed all the shutters. She tried to swallow but the lump in her throat proved to be too big. Her legs felt wobbly as she made her way down the hall and into the living room.



Waiting for the attack shook her to the core. She knew someone might be watching her. Freaked out didn't even come close to how she felt.



The waiting for the attack made her head buzz with pain. She wanted to flee but didn't know where the hell she would go. The guy had her locked in the house without an escape. The only place she could go was back to the master bedroom and that would only be a temporary reprieve from his attack.



She backed up, moving away from the main rooms and back to the bedroom. Her entire body shook and she placed her hand on the wall to steady herself. Each step backwards was an agonizing journey into the unknown. What if he was already in the house? What if he was watching her, just waiting for her to make a mistake?



One step back then another until she ran into something solid. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Nothing had been blocking the hall when she'd left her room earlier. There was only one explanation. The bastard had her. She wanted to scream but her voice would manifest.



Her legs gave out just as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his chest.



"My darling, I've come back for you. My boat is waiting and I'm ready."



The thunder of blood through her ears blocked out the sound of what happened next. At first the light-headedness felt like a reprieve then she knew she was about to pass out. She didn't want to be trapped here with this jerk.



Her arms swung wildly but had no effect. He was in control and she wasn't. He had nothing to lose, but she had everything at stake.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 17: Part 2

Richard wiped the blood from his hands. The stupid bitch actually thought she was protected. Not so. That wimpy police officer they had left to protect her hadn't been able to keep her safe. Richard was too strong not to win.



He also had resolve on his side. There was no question he would capture Delanie and take her away from all of this. No one else would do. He needed Delanie and he would have her.



The wind picked up tossing the palm tree limbs to the ground. Another big storm and other opportunity to take Delanie by surprise. She wouldn't hear him coming. Perfect.



When the rain started he was already close to her home, watching her move through the house. Her gait was stiff as she constantly checked over her shoulders as the rain blew against the windows.



The thought of her wrapped in his arms, begging to be free and crying each time he took her made him excited. It had been too long since he'd experienced that feeling.



He closed his eyes, giving himself a few minutes to remember his time with the beautiful blond he had left to drift across the seas. Maybe he would go searching for her in a few years. By then she would lose the fear and relax. Yes, now his plans felt complete.



He would take Delanie and keep her until he made his way to Asia. Then he would live off the tropical islands for a few years. Going after this blond would give him a challenge. He loved a challenge.



The straining of his dick against his pants chafed him. He needed to rip into Delanie soon or he might not be able to hold back. He wanted her to last. Taking her fast wouldn't give him the relief he needed. No, he would go slow. His shirt stuck to his back and his feet sloshed in his shoes, but he wouldn't be deterred. This was his time to make something happen. Others could brag that they made things happen, he knew he did.



He held the power of death in his hand. Life after him wouldn't be worth living. Even though he'd seen the girl alive on the island, she wasn't really living. He'd changed everything for her. Not a day would pass that she wouldn't stop and think about him. Now that was power.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 17: Part 1

The helicopter came in low over the ocean. They were still twenty minutes away and he hadn't heard from or seen Sam. A storm gathered near the island, the angry thunderhead popping up on the radar. This wasn't how he wanted this operation to go. They were so damn close but still Delanie could lose her life. He never should have let her return to the place. A decoy, that's what he should have used. Delanie didn't deserve to die because of his fucked up mind and messed up plan.



He dialed her again, but the call wouldn't go through. That's what he got for not picking up the tab for a satellite unit. He should have said screw the Bureau and it's rules. They were cash poor and he wasn't. He could have already connected with her and this could all be over with. But no, he had to try to make his damn boss feel okay with the whole money thing. No one would ever feel comfortable with the amount of money Bill had. It was too much for an FBI agent, hell it was too much for some small countries.



Raising Sam on the stupid phone didn't work either. He needed to contact Sam or his man on the island. Nothing was working the way he wanted it to. Letting Delanie return to the island was stupid. And now the storm threatened to force the helicopter back to the main island.



He called Sam again. This time he answered. "Sam, where are you?"



"About twenty minutes out, maybe thirty if this storm goes away."



"Why aren't you there yet?"



"Rough seas. Where are you?"



"I was delayed."



"Damn it, Bill. She could already be dead."



"Is that storm gonna be a problem?"



"It already is a problem. It's wreaking havoc with my sails."



"I can't get my guy on the island. I think something happened."



"I'm sure something happened. Fuck, she wasn't supposed to be put in this kind of danger."



Bill rubbed his forehead, pressing hard against his temples. "I know. I know. Damn it, I'll be there as soon as I can."



Sam hung up and Bill called the man he'd sent with Delanie on the fast boat. There was no answer. He stared at the building cloud structure, knowing that the pilot wouldn't fly into a mess like that.



This wasn't a military chopper, just some guy who had some time on his hands. He could have called for a military lift but that would have cost the FBI big money. This guy was in for only a couple of hundred since he was already heading out this way to pick up another fare.



Bill had been lucky to find the pilot. All this money crap with the FBI was driving him crazy. He knew he needed to keep expenses down, but he had the resources to fix many of the problems.



Usually it wasn't a issue, but this time Baker had been riding his ass about any money he spent to solve this case. He would have to quit the case tomorrow. That was the best he could do. The problem wasn't really the United State's to solve. Soon another country would be forced to take up the charge to find this guy. He hated leaving someone else holding the ball but his hands were tied.



This might end up being one of those great tragedies where this psycho is allowed to roam freely around the world picking off and torturing beautiful women. One of the sad facts surrounding police work was that sometimes the bad guy was too hard to catch. No one would ever have enough time or resources to catch this guy.



The helicopter bucked and dipped in the wind. "If this doesn't quiet down we're going to have to land."



"Damn, how much longer do you think the weather will hold?"



"It's not holding now." The pilot pushed up on the cyclic and the craft sped forward then turned away from the island.



Bill turned back and spied a waterspout. Damn, the storm had grown too quick. "Can you make another go?"



"Let me pull up the weather." The pilot looked at the weather display and shook his head. "Even if I circle around we're looking at having to wait. The fuel is too low to not turn back."



"Damn, can you drop me near a marina?"



"Sure, let me figure out where to go."



Bill whipped out his phone, knowing that he wouldn't get any reception. Sam would be on his own and there was nothing he could do.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 16: Part 5

Delanie pulled the sheet tighter around her shoulders. She'd been awake all night long doubting the intelligence of her plan. Who the hell could sleep with the threat of a lunatic in the shadows? This had to end. She should have packed up her things and returned home. Only a few days had passed since she'd left the island with Sam. Being away from the island helped her to relax but relaxing meant giving up power and letting this guy win. She'd heard what he'd done to Amanda. She wouldn't allow that to happen to her.



The guy had to die, that was her only option. She came back to the island to entice him. Force him to strike and then she would take him down. How, she didn't know. People were supposed to be in place to save her, but were they really out there?



What if Bill didn't show up? Could she trust that Sam would make it back here before the killer struck? What if the maniac who attacked her beat them both back to the island. What if he sat outside her door, just waiting to make his move?



She'd be powerless against him if he had a gun. She should have thought this through. No way could she take this guy down on her own.



With as much control as she could muster she went for the satellite phone and dialed Sam's number. No one picked up. She waited a few minutes then tried again. Still no answer.



Next she dialed Bill's phone. Nothing. Maybe he was in the helicopter still. But he shouldn't be. He should already be on the island, staking out the place and keeping her safe. Her last hope was to call the phone for the cop who drove her over here on the fast boat they'd rented. His phone was for emergencies only. Dire emergencies.



For some strange reason she doubted if the cop who drove the boat over would see her fear as an emergency, but she sure as heck did. It scared the crap out of her to be stuck out here alone. He didn't answer either. She stared at her phone, wondering how the hell she could contact someone who might be close.



She was about to call Sam again when she heard something. A small scraping noise sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. She bit her lip and held her breath. The noise sounded again, closer this time. She needed to speak with Sam or Bill, she didn't care who as long as they were close to the island. Her hands shook as she pushed in the number for Sam. As the phone rang on the other end she started praying, knowing that if he didn't answer she would probably die before she got a chance to see him again.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 16: Part 4

Bill knew he couldn't delay any longer. The helicopter sat on the tarmac and his wife sat in the hospital. His boss called him five times over night and told him to get his ass back home, pronto. He had no choice but to go help Delanie, but he'd lose his job. It would all be over with and there was nothing he could do.



The chance of working for the BAU was screwed. Unless he did something amazing. Something so totally out of the ordinary that no one would believe his amazing luck. He might be able to pull it off. If only he could get out to the damned chopper and find the bastard who had tormented so many women in the Bahamas.



Somehow his wife had gotten in a traffic accident. She'd been drunk and gotten in a fight with her new boyfriend while he was driving. It pained him that she had to suffer, but what the hell had she been doing. If it were any consolation to him the boyfriend had been driving his own car but Bill was sure the enterprising schmuck they'd hit would find a way to sue him if they ever found out who his wife was.



He couldn't keep up with Shana's misadventures. He wanted her to get help. She needed to dry out and find some peace in her life. Eventually they would divorce. After all she'd done he didn't think he would ever enjoy spending time with her. It was over.



His job was another thing. He'd only answered twice when his boss called. Baker had wanted him to drop the case. After Baker had threatened sanctioning him Bill had somehow been able to calm the man down. It had been a miracle. Somehow the pressure to solve this case hadn't caused Bill to blow a gasket. He'd been cool, calm and collected as he talked to Baker. Explaining how much this case meant not only to him but also to the safety of all American's abroad. Somehow he'd finally been able to cut through his boss's thick skull and get the man to agree to him staying for a few more days.



The helicopter lifted off, banking sharply away from the island and over the crystal clear water of the Bahamas. He wondered how his vacation home had faired during the storm. Concern for the property hadn't entered his mind until now. It was irrational to own such a property and to not even care if it blew away in the storm or not.



Priorities had gotten in the way. Shana would say his priorities were screwed up. He knew they weren't. Sometimes catching killers was just more important than having tea with the Bellman's or who ever in the hell else she wanted to socialize with.



The seas were filled with sailboats, fast boats and catamarans. Unless they caught this guy right now there would be no hope of catching him. They were outnumbered. Too many people on the water. Too much water to check.



The sheer number of islands overwhelmed him. Their guy could be anywhere. He knew using Delanie as bate was wrong. He never should have allowed her to go out there alone. He hated that he'd been hung up by circumstances beyond his control. His wife wasn't supposed to be this stupid. His boss was supposed to be more supportive of his efforts to catch a killer. But nothing worked out the way he thought it would.



Sometimes you just had to throw up your hands and say what the fuck. He hopped this wasn't one of those times.



The pilot kept quiet, already aware of their destination. He flew as straight of a path as possible. Only an hour more and they'd be on the island, possibly catching the killer but definitely rescuing Delanie.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 16: Part 3

Amanda watched the sun rise from her hotel balcony. Her agent was on her way down. The press had heard. They were expecting a press conference. All she could do was ride the wave of the press tsunami and pray for the best.



She'd shed so many tears over the last few days. She was tired of tears. Maybe she could recover and gain back some of her stardom. Or maybe it was time to go a different way. One thing she was sure of was she was done with men.



Bill's flash of anger aimed at his wife had given her a boost of courage. She couldn't explain it. How the hell could she become more courageous from something so stupid as Bill being a bastard towards his wife? She couldn't figure it out.



The press would come down, take everything they could from her and then spit out something resembling the truth but more lurid and damning. She needed to take charge. They would try to rule her life and possibly even ruin her. She wouldn't stand for it.



If Bill was too weak and petty to be decent then she didn't need him. Hell, she hadn't really needed him in the first place. She was strong. Had been for years. The pain of heartache and failed relationships had taken their toll on her, but she wouldn't give up. They had tried to knock her down and force her into becoming a caricature of herself. Too many female artists fell victim to that ploy. They fell in love and let men call the shots. Then they would find themselves strung out, behaving badly, messed up on drugs or alcohol. The press loved weak women and hated strong ones. She'd need to become her biggest advocate. She wouldn't let them change her. Hell no, she'd be the toughest bitch out there, forcing them to pay attention.



Amanda stood up, drained the last of her bottle of water and chucked the container in the trash. She hopped into the shower and allowed the cold water to sooth her limbs. Today was the day she would take it all back. They couldn't hold her down. Bill couldn't hold her back. She wouldn't be squelched. Hell no, she would fight back and win.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 16: Part 2

Samuel turned his boat towards Delanie's island, glad to have the wind at his back. He was a few hours behind her, a few knots slower and he didn't know what had possessed her to return. Damn, why did she have to go all noble on them?



The police could have been trusted to do their job. That's all she had to do. Just go home, forget what happened out here and stay out of trouble, but she couldn't. The bastard who attacked her must have set something off inside her mind. She was determined to end this jerks reign of terror.



The disheartened crunch of his heart made him want to punish someone. But what the hell was he supposed to do? He'd been wracked with guilt when he found out she'd taken off to help save the day. The guy stalking her could be anywhere. On the island, back in the US, on a plane to Australia, Sam didn't know. And for that matter neither did Bill or Delanie.



They were flying blind as far as the bastard was concerned and there wasn't anything any of them could do about it. He'd chosen Amanda to die and then he'd picked Delanie. The police thought he might have killed another girl who was missing, but they had no clue. They were doing the best they could with trying to keep up with problems associated with the hurricane and the normal riff-raff they dealt with.



The wind held steady all evening long. He kept at it way into the night, long after a sane person would have quit and weighted anchor. Finally, after he'd almost got hung up on a reef he stopped the mad chase and hunkered down for the night. Delanie couldn't have made it to the island yet. At least he hoped she wouldn't have made it there.



God, what the hell would happen to her if her attacker was already at the island? She'd be dead by morning. After the seas calmed a bit and the moon came out Sam decided to weigh anchor and risk the coral and sandbars. He would just have to get a little deeper and pray that nothing dumb happened.



By the time the sun rose he was absolutely exhausted. He checked his maps and calculated that he'd be on the island in four hours. A lot could happen in those four hours. Damn the bastard and damn Delanie for thinking she could take on the jerk on her own.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

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Chapter 16: Part 1

Some days being an FBI agent sucked. This was one of those days. His boss had called again. What the hell was he supposed to do? He'd been irresponsible. Baker had been quick to point that out.



He called Sam, not sure why he thought talking to the guy would solve anything, but what the hell, he might as well go through with everything since once he got back in the US he would no longer be an FBI agent.



"Sam here."



"Hey, are you on your way. Yeah, about to leave the coastline and won't have cell signal for a while. You have my satellite phone number?"



"Yeah, I'll call if I need anything."



"Are we doing the right thing? Maybe we should rent a helicopter and get out to the island quick."



"It's an idea. Maybe the right one. Should have thought of it earlier. I'll see what I can do."



"Call me as soon as you make a decision."



Bill's phone beeped. He checked the display and saw that his wife was calling him. "Hey Sam, I have to take this other call. Just follow the plan. I'll get in touch with you later in the day."



Bill hung up on Sam and waited a beat before connecting with his wife. "Shana."



"Where the fuck are you?"



"Nice to here that you're fine. I'm fine too."



"What do you mean, you're fine too. You are a lousy ass-hole."



Bill refused to respond. Shana's words were slurred and her pitch high. She was drunk. Great, just what he needed.



"Did you hear me?"



"Shana, you need to..."



"Don't tell me what to do. You never cared one ounce about me. Always late for my dinner parties or you just never showed up."



He could hear her voice start to warble. That meant that she would be crying soon. He didn't have time for her drunken tirade.



"And you know what else? You were no good in bed."



Bill closed his eyes, blocking out the police station around him. Shana was screaming now. He should hang up. She'd said how she felt. The divorce papers would be filed soon. He'd have to negotiate some sort of settlement with her, the pre-nup spelled out the money issues. She would get very little from him. That probably angered her more than anything.



"Are you listening to me?" Her question pierced the thoughts clouding his mind.



"Where are you?"



"What does it matter to you?"



"Because I do care even–"



"Liar. That's crap. You don't care. You never cared. You should have told me about the money."



"Are you at home?"



"Did you hear me?" Her voice went high and screechy.



"I hear every word you have said. I want to know if you are safe."



"Why? So you can fell good about ignoring me while you go off and save some ass-hole who doesn't give a shit about you?"



"Shana, I do care about you. But–"



"But, but, but. I don't give a shit about your buts anymore. You're a fu–"



"Stop. I'm done with you calling me names. Fine, I've screwed up, but you aren't the same girl I married. You've changed. Changed too much. I'm tired of it. Now listen to me. Are you safe?"



Shana sputtered but said nothing that made any sense on the other end of the line.



"I said, are you safe?"



"Yeah."



"Where are you?"



"Miami."



"Good, go home, stay safe and I'll contact you after I'm done."



"But."



"No more."



He hung up his phone, still surprised that he'd talked that way to her. He'd never been that forceful or rude with Shana before. Not that she didn't need it. She'd crossed the line and made him angry. He should go home. Actually he should never have come down here. His boss was right, he should have allowed the local authorities to handle the case and he would have if Amanda hadn't been one of the missing. She was going to schedule a press conference soon. He wanted to be there for her, but couldn't. The FBI would frown on him playing with Amanda. They'd almost pushed him almost to the point where he didn't care. Didn't care about his job, didn't care about his wife, hell he almost didn't care about his house or money anymore. But he couldn't let it all go. This had to be some sort of melancholy that would let go of him soon.



The stress of this case had gotten to him. The job at the BAU still loomed in front of him, teasing him like a virginal debutant. Like the debutant the BAU job probably wouldn't be anywhere near as good as he dreamed. False advertisement, probably how they maintained their mystique.



If he could only catch someone's eye, the he would be in. But how the hell was he supposed to do that? And did he want to? Shana should leave him. He worked too much and spent far too little time at home with her. He didn't see the point in playing all gooey-gooey lovie dovie. It hadn't done any of his relatives any good to become non-working wealthy. Miserable ass-holes, the entire lot.



He opened his eyes, surprised to find Amanda standing only a few feet from him. The angry scowl turned down her mouth and furrowed her brow. She'd heard.



"Do you always talk to your wife that way?"



"Amanda."



"Don't try to get out of this. I want to know. Do you always talk to her that way?"



He ignored her question, embarrassed about how angry he'd sounded. "How are you? Feeling better?"



"Don't try to change the subject. What the hell were you doing? Isn't she your wife? How can you talk that way to her?"



"It's complicated."



"Really, that's the best you can do?"



"Amanda, I'm trying very hard to be nice to her but–"



"I know, I know. Every man has an excuse as to why he's rude. I thought you were different."



She wheeled around and took off for the door. He didn't want her to get away. Yes, he was a louse for yelling at Shana, but she'd been totally unreasonable. Bill caught up to Amanda and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, just listen."



"Bill, you were right earlier. I don't need to be in a relationship with you. I know your marriage is over, but the least you can do is be civil."



She spun around, her face only inches from his. "I can only imagine how you would treat me if we ever had a falling out. Would you yell and scream? Maybe say some cutting remarks. Something about how ugly I am now and nothing like I was before being kidnapped."



His heart squeezed in his chest. He drew her close, wrapping both arms tight around her. She was fragile, that much he knew. Saying anything now would be wrong. He'd blown it but the least he could do was try to offer her some comfort.



Her sobs wracked her body. She'd been through so much, he could imagine how she felt. He hated that he'd caused her more pain. Finding the bastard who'd done his to her had to be his number one priority.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011

Chapter 15: Part 5

Richard couldn't believe his luck. He stood on the deck of his pristine sailboat and watched the best event he'd ever seen take place before his eyes.



Delanie didn't even look back as the boat motored away from the dock. The schmuck watching her leave did nothing. He didn't hear the conversation, but their body language said it all. She'd been distant and the guy had been needy. The bitch was heartless. Now was his chance. No way would she get away from him now.



The planning would serve him well. He'd watched her for days before he'd made his move. The only variable he hadn't accounted for was the man on the island with her. That had been his biggest mistake. He'd underestimated Delanie's will to stay alive. She'd thrown him for a loop with her counter attack.



This time he'd be prepared. She needed to be drugged first. He could deal with carrying her down to the boat. Taking her would be different than other times. Previously he had to account for potential witnesses. On Delanie's island there would be no witnesses. She'd be alone.



Richard bit down on his lip, producing blood. He wanted this one. The excitement had him almost jumping for joy. He held it together, making sure to not display any emotion. Anyone watching him would only see a man looking west. They might think he was watching the. It would be difficult for anyone to see that he had his sights trained on the fast boat with two passengers.



Now, time to finish up on the plan. He needed to strike quick. He would go in strong and hit her with the tranquilizer. His sailboat would take longer than the cigarette boat she used to return to the island, but this would give her time to start feeling like she had a chance. She didn't.



He went below deck and measured out a dose big enough to drop her. He placed it in the refrigerator on the top shelf. It might be premature, but he liked being ready. The dose would do just as well in the syringe as in the medicine bottle.



After finishing up with the tranquilizer he packed a small bag with rope and handcuffs. The drawer where he placed his toys called to him. He slid open the drawer, fingering the gags and whips. The strap of the ball gag slid through his fingers. He closed his eyes, imagining how wonderful it would be to gag the bitch and make her behave.



Without another thought Richard grabbed the ball gag and stuffed it in his bag. She wouldn't know what hit her. Just the way he wanted the bitch to be. Learning to beg for necessities would come first. Then he would teach her how to please him.



Once back above deck he watched as three other boats weighed anchor. He followed them, allowing the others to lead. With a quick look over his shoulder he saw that the man with Delanie had left the area. Good, now no one would know he'd followed her.



The wind felt good against his face. He lifted the sails and let mother earth guide him. It made him giddy that she blew him in the direction of the island. If he believed in a supreme being then he would think that even god wanted him to have Delanie. But no, he knew better. There was no deity, only pure destiny shaped his purpose.



Delanie was his to behold. The way she'd been in movies, taunting him with her dares of being strong. Sure, she'd landed a lucky hit when he'd tried to take her down on the island, but she wasn't strong.



All acting, he knew that now. All her prancing around on the silver screen was an act used to make him think she was strong. Alpha-female or whatever the hell they were calling it now, she was faking it. He bet she'd never even worked out before.



No, he could take her without any trouble. He owned her. She would be putty in his hands, and oh, he knew exactly what parts his hands would play with first.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011