Die for Me Darling Read online

  Die for me darling

  By

  Caroline Clark

  Chapter One

  The paper felt like silk in Nick’s hand, yet it was so much more. With a lump in his throat, the room shrunk down, and all that existed was the five by seven glossy print he held in his shaking hand. Would he ever hold his own photo? Would he ever be able to stand there like John, chest out a big goofy grin on his face, showing the world his pride, his joy, his creation? Nick swallowed and let his eyes devour every detail. The chubby cheeks that were formed into a smile. The blue eyes so deep you wondered if they were real and the tiny fingers, so small yet so perfectly formed they made him want to cry with joy. Involuntarily he reached out to hold that hand, and a wave of disappointment crushed him as he touched paper.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Nick managed through a throat that felt as dry as sandpaper and just as brittle. He wanted to ask more, but a lump had formed behind his Adam’s apple, and no words could squeeze past as it filled him with despair and pushed moisture to the back of his eyes. Blinking up at John, he handed the photo back.

  “Alice,” John said, clutching it to his chest. “We called her Alice. She was seven pounds exactly, and it was the easiest birth the midwife had seen in over a year.”

  Nick could hear the words, but they seemed to be coming from so far away that he had to focus hard to understand them. For a second, the room went black, and he thought he would fall to the ground. Get a grip. He should be pleased for his mate, not devastated that once again, he stood on the outside as one more of his friends showed off their latest progeny.

  “She’s beautiful,” he said again, and then he turned away quickly before John could spot the tears that pricked at the back of his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, mate.”

  Nick picked up his briefcase and made his way to the lift. Once the doors closed behind him, he leaned against the wall and let the shakes come as he was whisked down the twenty floors. Staring back at him from the polished aluminum was an average looking guy. Everyone said he had a jolly face, maybe because it always looked slightly pudgy despite the fact that his five foot nine frame was slim and athletic. But he wasn’t jolly. Right now, there was a deep and abiding anger that filled him so full he felt he must burst if he did not release it. How could she do that to him?

  The lift hit bottom with a stomach-turning lurch, and the doors slid open. Soon he would be home, and he would have to decide how to cope with the betrayal.

  The dark blue Ford looked despondent beneath the sodium lights. Nick climbed in and threw his briefcase onto the back seat. As he turned on the ignition, Bon Jovi screamed of a bullet to the heart and giving love a bad name. The sentiment was perfect, and he turned the car for home and a conversation that had filled his day with dread.

  ***

  Wearing the balaclava was a guilty pleasure. It gave anonymity, but most of all, it gave power. Darkness had fallen over thirty minutes ago, and negotiating the small, neat terrace house was not easy. But eyes adjusted to the dark, and the hunter lived in the shadows, able to lay in wait, able to pounce when needed.

  From the front door, there was a narrow hallway and leading off that were two more doors. One to the living room the other to the kitchen. Which would Nick take first? Dressed all in black and clinging to the shadows, the figure paused, left or right? This decision could make all the difference between success and failure. Decision made darkness coalesced around the door on the right and secluded itself into the shadows. Waiting was part hell, part heaven. The anticipation was both thrilling and torturous.

  How would he react? Would he fight, or would the first blow knock him to the floor?

  Waiting silently, the figure felt the desire, the lust, and a hand reached down to a groin that throbbed with need. The car pulled into the drive. The hunter’s breath was fast and shallow, this would not do, he would hear. With a gargantuan effort, it slowed its breathing. Not much longer now.

  ***

  Nick pulled into the drive and leaned back against his seat. The house was dark, and the driveway empty, so Sadie wasn’t home. A mixture of relief and despondency washed over him. At least he had a bit more time to get his mind around their problem, but he still had no idea of what to say. There was no doubt about it, they had married too young. Sadie thought she was pregnant, bloody ironic that was. So he had done the right thing and put a ring on her finger. Three weeks later, the scare was over, and a big part of him had felt cheated. He had wanted children then, had been so looking forward to it, and he desperately wanted them now.

  Having just turned thirty-five, Nick felt that time was getting away from him. Sadie was only twenty-eight, but still, if they wanted to enjoy their time with their kids, they needed to get started. She had never told him she didn’t want children. In fact, each time they discussed it, she would say, ‘If it’s meant to be, it will happen.’ That was until this morning when he found the packet of pills in her handbag.

  Sadie had already left for work, and as often happened, she’d left her purse behind. Working in a chemical lab, she couldn’t take much with her and didn’t like to leave it in the car. Bile boiled in Nick’s stomach as he remembered how he had stood there with the packet in his hand, today’s pill was missing. All his hopes, all his dreams seemed to sink from his chest and down to his toes, where they weighed a ton and made it impossible for him to move.

  They had supposedly been trying. At times she had joked about liking sex for sex but not as a means to an end. Yet stupidly he had thought they were jokes, why had she never spoken to him about this?

  The car ticked as it continued to cool down, and a shiver raised the hairs on Nick’s arms. It was time to go in, tonight he had to face the music.

  ***

  Inside the house behind the kitchen door, the dark figure had not moved it just waited and wondered. What was he doing, why was he waiting? Maybe he was on the phone or just relaxing after a hard day. Well, wasn’t he in for a surprise?

  Nick walked up to the door, his keys in one hand the briefcase in the other. He would go for a run. That would make him feel better. Pounding the streets would dissipate his anger and give him time to think, maybe he could even work out what to say. The door swung inward, the house was warm but dark. It no longer looked welcoming, but more like a trap. How had he wasted away so many years on someone who did not share his dreams?

  As he pushed the front door closed with his foot, the kitchen door moved slightly. Pushed away by the breeze, it stopped when it hit the black figure waiting with anticipation of the pleasures to come.

  Nick reached for the light. Flicking it upwards, a grunt of disgust left him when it failed to turn on. Even the bloody house is against me.

  He shoved the kitchen door with his briefcase. It went harder than he intended and bounced back, smashing into his nose. Pain exploded in his face as the wood struck home. Blood flew out before him, and he reached up stunned as lights seemed to whizz around his head. It felt like something crunched between his fingers, and they came away wet as blood seeped down his face.

  What the hell was happening? Had Sadie left something behind the door? Stumbling forward, he felt a whisper of air across the hairs on the back of his neck. Someone was there.

  Before he could turn, his hands were grabbed, and he was pushed deeper into the kitchen. Fear clasped onto his chest and made the hair on his arms stand to attention. Warm fingers pulled his hands together and shoved them roughly up his back. A grunt escaped him, and his legs rushed forward without his hands to balance him. It felt like he would fall. Panic screamed in his mind, what! Who! Help!

  He was grabbed and pulled back and felt something cold and metallic on his hands. As he pulled against his attacker, his wrists we
re brought together and handcuffed behind him. Terror fought a battle in his chest, and it was winning. The urge to scream and shout, to thrash and kick, was overwhelming, but he was slammed into the wall knocking the breath from his lungs. Kicking backward, he connected with a shin and heard his attacker grunt in pain. Before he could take advantage, he felt a stab to the back of his knees, and he was taken down and then dragged over backward to lie on the cold, hard, tiled floor. In the dark, he did not see the figure as it stepped around him and lowered itself to sit on his chest.

  Pain surged through his arms as the weight pushed them to the floor, pulling his shoulders almost out of their sockets and forcing his hands into the small of his back. There was no time for fear, but his chest ached, and his throat was dry, and in the total darkness and without his arms, he had little chance of escaping. Would he die tonight? Would he die without ever becoming a father?

  The weight adjusted, moving back towards his groin. Nick rolled his hip and tried to tip his rider onto their head, but they were ready and lifted up. A sharp slap hit his face, and his head rocked sideways and slammed into the hard cold tiles. Momentarily stunned, he sat up and tried to head-butt his attacker. The blow fell woefully short, and he was pushed back, this time accompanied by a subtle giggle.

  Once again, the weight shifted. What could he do? The cold hand of fear clasped onto his gut as the weight was settled back down onto his groin. Slowly they worked their hips grinding their seat against his groin in a parody of a lap dance.

  “Get off me, you freak,” he yelled.

  “Really lover, that’s the welcome I get.”

  “Sadie!?”

  The shock was complete. Every ounce of energy drained from him, and he let his head fall to the tiles and prayed that this was a dream. His wife would do these strange things. For weeks, she would ignore him, pushing away any advances sexual or otherwise, and then she would seem to explode and would demand sex, often in the most inconvenient of situations. Right now, he was still angry with her, and there was no way that she would use him this way.

  “Yes, lover, it’s all me. Now, how about a little sugar.”

  In the dark, Nick felt her fumble with his belt. Deft fingers undid it, and then she was undoing his fly. He gritted his teeth to bite back the anger that threatened to end their marriage.

  “No, stop this, damn it, Sadie stop.”

  With just a slight giggle, she reached in and fondled his dick through his boxers.

  This was not gonna happen. He refused to be tied up, beaten, and then fucked in the dark by his bitch of a wife. The bitch who had been lying to him for over a year.

  “Get off me damn it, we need to talk.” The words were spat at her, and he had trouble holding back the venom that threatened to stream out of him and maybe destroy his marriage forever.

  Instead of answering, she slid down his legs, and he felt the soft touch of her lips envelop his flaccid dick. A gasp was wrenched from him, and his hips bucked. Still, she sucked him, rolling him around in the soft wetness of her mouth. Despite himself, Nick felt the familiar heat start deep down in his groin. His cock throbbed in her mouth and rose to the occasion. In his mind, he told himself he would stop this, any minute now, he would tell her about the pills, and he would stop this. The problem was his body had other ideas. He slid in and out of that soft, warm orifice, feeling her lips as they dragged across his cock he could not have stopped it if she had put a gun to his head.

  The warmth was building throughout his body, all thought of arguing had gone, and all he could concentrate on was the feeling of her soft lips as they sucked off his dick. Just as he started to feel his orgasm, she pulled away and sat back on his legs. Pain rocked through his shins, but it was not as bad as the loss of her mouth, sucking him, and a groan escaped from his lips.

  “Do you want me, lover?” she asked.

  “Oh God, yes,” he moaned and tried to sit up, but he couldn’t, nor could he reach out and touch her.

  “Then forgive me my sins,” she said, her voice husky and breathless.

  Nick knew he had to shout no, and he felt his mouth open to say the word, but all that came out was, “Yes, I forgive you.”

  The weight lifted off him, and he was filled with loss as his dick throbbed in the cool air, but then she sat back down. Sitting astride him, she took his cock in her hands and guided him into the smooth wetness that was her. She was slick and tight, and he filled her like coming home. Slowly she rose off him until he almost slipped out, and then just as the loss was unbearable, she sat back down and ground her hips against the material of his trousers. He knew he should be mad, but all he could think about was the heat in his dick and the way the sensation rode over him. Taking him up and up like a climb up a roller coaster. He thrilled as he rose to the very pinnacle, and then with a scream, he dropped off the other side. He called out her name as his orgasm slammed into him like a pleasure train filled with nubile ecstasy.

  Sadie had never been one to let his orgasm spoil her fun, and she pounded down on him, grinding her pussy into the base of his dick. Then he felt her fingers as she finished herself off. Faster and faster she rubbed across her clit, occasionally her slick fingers would slip into her wetness and brush against his dick, and he started to stir.

  It had been a while since he had felt this good, and he let his body respond and ignored the pain in his back and shoulders. His cock throbbed inside her, and a grunt escaped from his lips. Slowly his hips rose, and he pounded into her just as she let out an animal scream of ecstasy as her orgasm pulsed through her. Nick could feel her pussy as it spasmed around his dick. It felt so good that all thoughts of confronting her were gone. All he wanted was to screw her until his brain melted, and all the hurt was forgotten. Sadie dropped forward and rested on his shoulders.

  He kissed the top of her head and around onto her forehead, which was covered with something, some silky material cloaked her face. As his hips worked into her, his lips sought out her mouth, they brushed across the material closer. She lifted her head, and Nick sought out her sweet pleasure. Hungry lips slid along her cheek, but then she was gone. She pulled away, and his dick slid out and pointed up at nothing. The cooker light came on, and he saw her stood there all in black, her head covered by a black mask. She peeled it off, and her face was lined with disgust and loathing. She hawked up and spat.

  Nick saw her spit and felt the glob hit him just below the eye. “Damn it, Sadie, at least let me loose.”

  With a toss of her blonde bob, she turned and walked away.

  Nick lay back onto the floor. This was not the first time she had behaved like this. It made no sense then, and it made no sense now, but he knew that in an hour or so, she would come around. Treating him as if nothing had happened, she would remove the handcuffs and probably make him a steak and pour him a drink. Until then, he would just have to make himself as comfortable as he could and decide where they went from here.

  Chapter Two

  Nick woke on the sofa, his neck stiff, and his throat raw. For a second, he felt good, remembering the orgasm from the previous night a smile spread across his face, but then he tried to move. Cramps ripped through the muscles in his shoulders and down his arm. The battering he had taken from being ridden with his arms behind his back and then being left handcuffed for over an hour would leave residual pain for some time to come. As he woke, he remembered her face as she spat on him when he wanted a second round. She had climbed off and left him there, his hands secured behind him, his trousers down. What the hell was wrong with his psycho of a wife?

  Sitting up, the room spun a little, and a wave of nausea swept over him. He remembered banging his head on the tiles and reached back to feel. Sure enough, there was a bump on his skull, he pressed it gingerly and felt the pain spike through him. Leaning forward over his legs, he looked down. “What the?”

  Muddy footprints traced across the lounge carpet to where he sat. Looking down, he saw his trainers, neatly tied on his feet. They were coat
ed with mud and had spread the dirt over the side of the sofa as well as the seat cushions. Had he gone for a run last night? It didn’t make sense, but this was not the first time he had lost time. What was happening to him?

  The house was quiet. Sadie had either gone into work or was still in bed. He could never keep track of her schedule. She worked all hours, and sometimes he found it lonely. The house seemed desolate when she wasn’t there. Still, it gave him time to decide how to approach her.

  Standing, he found the dizziness had gone, and his legs felt good, his muscles loose. No way had he been for a run, maybe his trainers were muddy from the last time. Maybe he had put them on to empty the bin or something. It didn’t matter, he was up, and the morning sunshine splashed through the corner of the blinds and called to him. Things would look better after a run, and if she were here, then they could discuss things over breakfast.

  Nick stepped to the fridge and opened the door. He always had an electrolyte drink after his run, and he kept it in a special orange bottle. A smile crossed his face, his bottle was full, sat in the fridge door, and it bore a yellow post-it with a smiley face. Warmth filled him; maybe this was Sadie’s way of saying sorry.

  With a confident whistle, he was out of the door and set off at an easy jog. The morning sun warmed his back and chased away the problems. Everything always seemed better after a run. It was his alone time, his quiet time, and it allowed his mind to decompress and work out solutions to all of his problems. Well, all except this one, somehow, he thought it would take more than a run to decide what to about Sadie.

  Loosening up his stride, he made a quick jog down the street, and then he turned left and headed into the woodlands. He still didn’t feel right. There was a touch of a headache, and he was a little dizzy, a little spaced out like he had drunk too much. It made no sense, but maybe he shouldn’t have come out. Maybe he should have had a shower and a few hours more sleep.