The dumpsters are only a few feet from the door, but she takes her time walking to them. You can’t see her face, only her silhouette. Carson sneaks up on her but doesn’t grab her right away. Instead, he waits until she turns around before stepping in front of her. When he blocks her way back to the door, it takes her a second to notice something is wrong.
Taking a step back, she almost trips, but Carson takes that distraction to grab her.
She struggles but eventually breaks free from his hold, attempting to get away from him. Before she can, he grabs the shovel leaning on the side of the trash can and hits her over the head with it. Her body goes limp as she falls to the ground, dropping like dead weight.
That is the difference between us.
He likes them silent.
I like it when they cry.
I sit there, my fingers tapping against the dashboard as Carson leans down, picking up her unconscious body and heading to the back of the van. The back door opens, followed by a thud.
When the passenger door swings open, Carson comes into view and rips off the mask. His black hair falls forward, and he runs his hand through it, pushing it out of his eyes as he hops in.
“Got her all tied up and taped her mouth closed. Found this in her pocket,” he says, tossing a small pink pocketknife in the center console.
Hmm, interesting.
I turn the key and put the van in drive. Our house is about half an hour away, and Carson is basically jumping in his seat with excitement as we drive away from the bar.
“She’s kinda hot. Not gonna lie.” Carson breaks the silence only a few minutes into our drive, but I ignore him.
Carson’s into anyone who has a pussy, so really, I’m not surprised. And if I feed into a conversation, he won’t shut the fuck up until we get home.
“Kinda sucks we gotta do this,” he says more to himself than me.
After a few more random comments about our captive, he shuts up. I must’ve zoned out because the exit I need to take is coming up already. And of course, as soon as we start exiting the freeway, a thud comes from the back of the van, followed by muffled shouting.
“Sounds like she’s awake.” Carson states the obvious as I press on the gas, making us go way over the speed limit. “Keep your eye out for cops,” I tell him, looking over my shoulder before merging.
Speeding isn’t the best option, but the faster we get home, the quicker we can deal with this. I don’t think I could get us out of another one of these. The excuse,Well, she’s really into bondage and likes it rough, officer,won’t get me off the hook again.
It takes about fifteen minutes before I pull into the driveway, throw the van in park, and hop out.
“I’ll get the door.” Carson doesn’t wait for a reply as he heads in the opposite direction.
I toss my hands in the air, and I watch him walk away.
“I guess I’ll grab the captive,” I drawl sarcastically.
The second I pull the van doors open, she jumps. I knew she was awake, but I wasn’t prepared for her to be untied and ready to attack. I lose my footing and almost fall when she wraps her legs around me. Fists fly toward my face, but she has no power here.
Not with me.
The only advantage she had was surprise—and fuck did she surprise me.
I wrap my arm around her waist and move toward the back of the van. Her back slams down on the metal floor, and all the air leaves her lungs. She struggles to breathe as I keep her pinned to the floorboard.
I drag my eyes over her face and I let out a series of cuss words.
This isn’t Susie.
It’s the fucking raven-haired girl.
I knew he never took his damn eyes off the blonde at the bar when I originally spotted Susie.
“Goddamn it, Carson!” My voice booms through the small confines of the van, my grip tightening on the woman under me.
