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She dropped to her knees and held up her hands in supplication. "It--it wasn't my fault, Colin. Please understand. He was alive!"

He grabbed her by the wrist. "You knew he was alive. You called to tell me that."

"But I didn't expect...I mean, he'd quit moving. And...and then I opened the trunk and..."

He used his free hand to pinch her nipple, twisting so hard she cried out before she could stop herself.

"And what, Tiffany? What did you do?" he asked, his voice as rough as gravel. "You didn't let him get away. Tell me you didn't. I could forgive you anything but that."

He still had her nipple in a viselike grip. Tears welled up, but she didn't struggle or cry out again. Experience had taught her that would only make matters worse. "There was nothing that I could do," she whispered.

"He...he sprang out at me and--" She swallowed a yelp as he yanked her forward and bit her on the shoulder.

"And what, you stupid bitch! And what?"

Panting from pain and fear, she struggled to think. "And ran away.

He--knocked me down. He was yelling. He--"

"Why didn't you go after him? You were in the woods, for crying out loud! And there's no way he could've run very far. You saw what I did to him. You helped me."

Because he'd made her. She'd hated every minute of it. "I couldn't go after him b-because--" Colin clenched his other hand in her hair and used it to yank her head back, but she kept trying to explain, talking so fast her words ran together. "He was screaming bloody murder. I panicked, Colin.

Please, please don't be angry. I'll do anything you want. Anything. I said you could have your friends over tomorrow night, didn't I? If you want, we'll put on a show for them, do it live."

He pinched even harder. "You should've been prepared. But you weren't."

She blinked, trying to see through the blur of tears. "Yes."

"Yet you just told me everything went fine! I was sitting right across the table from you."

"I didn't want to ruin your dinner." Dizzy from the pain, she closed her eyes. "I knew it would upset you."

"And lying doesn't upset me?" Because she expected the blow, she flinched, which infuriated him. "Turn over," he said and removed his belt.

She knew what was coming, but at least he'd let go of her nipple.

Covering her breast in a fleeting moment of relief, she rolled over before he could kick her. She could survive this, she told herself. He spanked her even when he wasn't angry. He enjoyed it. And she didn't mind. Except tonight the beating was far more vicious, and he wouldn't stop. The more he hit her, the more he wanted to hit her.

Bile welled up in her throat, but she choked it back. If she vomited on the carpet, he'd make her lick it up, like he did with Rover.

"You--" whack "--idiot!" He didn't raise his voice. He knew how to avoid unwanted attention from the neighbors. He was an expert at blending in, appearing calm and normal, no matter what. "Do you--" whack "--want to see me--" whack "--in prison?" Whack, whack. "Is that what you're after?"

He kept hitting the same place on her back. She wasn't sure how many blows she could withstand. In desperation, she rolled over, lifting an arm to stop him, but she realized that was a mistake when he threw down the belt and slipped his hands around her neck. "I should kill you! You know that?

You don't deserve me. Look at this place. Look at everything I've given you!" He began to squeeze. "You aren't worthy of it."

Black spots danced before her eyes, just like the time he'd used Rover's choke chain on her a few weeks ago. She was about to lose consciousness. She had to tell him about Samantha Duncan. That was the only way to stop this. But she couldn't breathe.

Although her survival instinct urged her to fight, she forced herself to remain pliant. He wouldn't really kill her. Once his anger was spent he'd cry and apologize and be as sweet as ever. Tomorrow, he'd be putting salve on her wounds.

At last, he dropped his hands from her neck. But he wasn't finished.

He still had that look on his face. He drew back his fist, but she raised a hand to stop him while gulping for the air to speak. "Wait...don't hurt me again." She sucked another breath into her burning lungs. "I--I have a present for you."

Curiosity made him hesitate, but his eyes were still razor-sharp with cruelty. "What is it? If it's the promise of your lousy body, I'm tired of it."

"D-don't say that. I--I love you."

"You love me, but you can't follow simple directions?"

"Rover doesn't know anything." Now that she could breathe, she was thinking more clearly. "You--you brought him home in your trunk. He was blindfolded. He doesn't know who we are or where we live."

He slugged her anyway, which he was usually careful never to do.

She'd have to call in sick tomorrow.

"What do you have for me?" he demanded. "It better be good."

Dazed from his latest blow, she scrambled to organize her scattered thoughts. What had she been trying to tell him? It was something good, something that would stop all this....

She had Sam. Samantha Duncan. That was it!

"You--you know the girl who lives next door?" She dashed a hand across her wet cheeks. "The one you've been admiring?"

She had his attention now. She could feel the alertness in his body.

He'd always been intrigued by Sam's mother, probably because Zoe Duncan hardly seemed to notice him. "Yes?"

"I have her locked in Rover's old room upstairs."

Releasing her, he staggered to his feet. "You're kidding."

"No. And--" she swallowed hard, hoping it would be enough "--she's all yours, your new pet. I won't...I won't complain or...or try to stop you...no matter what you want to do with her."

"You snatched her?"

She tasted blood at the corner of her mouth. Dabbing at it with her tongue, she nodded.

"What, are you crazy? Our neighbor's kid?"

Fear paralyzed her. Had she misread his many references to Zoe and how pretty she was, how pretty her daughter, Samantha, would be when she grew up? Would this only make him angrier? "It--it doesn't matter where she's from if no one knows she's here," she whispered.

Rubbing his chin, he paced to the couch and back. "But now we can't let her go. Ever."

"Do you want to let her go?" Tiffany's whole body hurt--her shoulder, head, back and legs--but she was so afraid of what the next few minutes might bring she could scarcely feel it. "You said it was too much risk. Isn't that why you're upset about Rover?"


Tags: Brenda Novak Last Stand Thriller