Jewels and Panties (Book, Ten): Hot Pursuit Read online

  Hot Pursuit

  Jewels And Panties Series

  Book Ten

  Brooke Kinsley

  © 2017 All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  "Erotica is literature designed to be read with one hand...”-Brooke Kinsley

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  Contents

  Description

  Chapter One LINCOLN

  Chapter Two ETTA

  Chapter Three BERGER

  Chapter Four LINCOLN

  Chapter Five ETTA

  Chapter Six LINCOLN

  Chapter Seven BERGER

  Chapter Eight ETTA

  Chapter Nine LINCOLN

  Chapter Ten ETTA

  About The Author

  Description

  LINCOLN

  Every second away from her is a second I can’t stand but I know we’ll be together again.

  The thought of holding her is the only thing that’s keeping me going.

  With nothing but a trail of devastation behind me, I can only move forward.

  But first I need some help from a friend.

  A friend that’s going to help me reveal a secret.

  One that puts Etta’s life on the line.

  ETTA

  Lincoln will save me.

  It’s a thought I have to repeat over and over.

  But every second in this house is a second closer to death and I know time is running out.

  Then when I’m sure I’m sure Craig has reached boiling point, he reveals something.

  Something that makes my blood run cold.

  And I know that if I don’t escape right now…

  There’s no escape at all.

  Chapter One

  LINCOLN

  I was in a jungle with rain dripping from the leaves and lashing my face with its warmth. Opening my mouth, I tasted the sweetness of the water.

  It was hot, almost to the point of being unbearable and I began to undress. But as I looked down, I saw I was wearing pale blue scrubs, not too dissimilar to the ones I wore in theater, but there was something strange about them.

  Looking closer, I saw the fabric was made of worms, thousands of them, icy blue and dead, they crawled and crawled across my body and I just stood there, in my suit of worms feeling the heat press me down into the earth.

  I was paralyzed and tried to lift a leg only to feel as though I was wading through lead syrup, my limbs only moving a fraction of an inch although I was straining against the invisible force with all my strength.

  Then I saw her.

  Her dark hair blew out behind her as she remained dry amidst the constant flow of water. Her eyes were sparkling, looking right at me, but at the same time, they weren't noticing me at all. It was then that I realized she was looking over my shoulder.

  My head moved as though my neck was filled with rusty springs. At last, I managed to see what was behind me.

  Craig.

  His face was a blur, his body nothing but blackness shrinking in and out of the dark, green leaves. The three of us stood in the rainforest, all trapped within our own positions. I tried to speak but my jaw was locked shut.

  In front of me, Etta stood with her hair still fanned out around her like a glistening aura. My arms were tingling with the need to hold her but they wouldn't move.

  Etta! I called in my head.

  "Lincoln," she whispered.

  Honey, I'm trying to find you. You know that, don't you?

  A single tear came to her eye and she brushed it away.

  "Don't give up," she said and turned on her heel. Her feet were bare but as she walked, they remained free from the stagnant stinking mud.

  Don't go!

  "Find me," she said as she walked away, her figure dissolving into the mass of plants and wildlife.

  Somewhere overhead, a bird chirped but its voice was mechanical like a chainsaw spluttering into life. I looked up in time to see it fly down and perch on a branch in front of me, its wings coated in feathers that were made of steel and as it turned to me, I saw its chest had been torn apart. Wires and cogs moved inside it, the rain seeping in until the complex machinery of its organs began to rust, the water turning dark and murky until it ran away from its body like blood.

  Don't go!

  Her body disappeared until it became a sliver in the distance, then nothing at all and I was left staring through the trees begging her to come back.

  Meanwhile, the bird cocked its head to the side, bled more rusty water onto my shoes then flew away. Now I was all alone with the monstrous shadow of Craig behind me but as I turned around, I saw he was also gone.

  I was alone.

  It was just me and the constant dripping of the rain.

  Even my suit of worms had disappeared and I was now naked, the warm water running down my exhausted muscles. I was skinnier than I remembered, my ribs poking out through my papery skin.

  From somewhere high up above the treeline, the sound of thunder rattled through the clouds like long swords smashing together.

  It got louder and louder until my body began to shake and... I awoke with a start, jumping in my seat.

  The inside of the car was unbearably hot, the consequence of falling asleep with the engine running with the heat on. My face was coated in sweat and my suit, always so crisp and clean was now damp and crumpled.

  Rain was cascading down the windows while the nearby traffic on the highway rushed past like rising and falling waves in a storm. As I looked ahead, all I could see were the blurred outlines of red tail lights.

  Beside me, the banging continued and I flinched. Looking to my right, I saw a hand rapping at the window.

  "Hello?"

  Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw the red and blue lights and the gold and black writing of the Normont Police department.

  "Shit."

  I slapped a hand to my cheek.

  As if the night couldn't get any worse.

  "Mr Bosworth?" the young cop asked.

  I slid the window down and a gust of cold, wet air hit my face, reviving me in an instant.

  "Hey," I said, aware that he was looking at my face and wondering why I looked so terrible.
>
  Right now, I must have been a far cry from the glossy images he'd seen of me.

  "Mr Bosworth?"

  He flashed his badge in my face.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Erm, yeah... I'm fine. Nothing to worry about."

  He pressed his lips together, the rain streaming down his face although he seemed oblivious.

  "We had a report of a man unconscious on the side of the road with the engine running."

  "Not unconscious. Just sleeping."

  "Sleeping, then."

  He narrowed his eyes.

  "You don't look so well Mr Bosworth. Could you step out of the car for a moment?"

  "No, I'm in a hurry."

  "You were sleeping."

  Fuck, what had even happened. The last thing I remembered was driving down the highway with nothing but Etta on my mind when my body was overcome with exhaustion. Pulling onto the hard shoulder, all I'd meant to do was sit for a minute and recuperate but I must have fallen asleep.

  "Step out of the car, please."

  "I really should get going."

  "Don't worry. We'll be quick."

  I glanced at the dashboard and saw the gas had almost run out and it was almost midnight.

  "Please, Mr Bosworth. Step out of the car."

  His hand moved to his hip and I knew I didn't have a choice.

  I looked at his young face then back at the dashboard. There wasn't enough fuel to even get five miles but it would get me somewhere. Looking ahead, I could see the hospital, lit up and large on the horizon.

  “Sorry, kid,” I said and stepped on the accelerator.

  A look of confusion swept over his face that soon turned to horror.

  “Mr Bosworth!”

  It was too late. He stumbled back as the car sped away from his side and I watched him for a moment in the rearview mirror as he reached for his radio. He’d be calling for backup and they’d be here in minutes. But that was all the time I needed.

  Chapter Two

  ETTA

  The sound of crying filled the room. At first, I thought it was coming from my mom but as I looked over to where she was huddled in the corner, I saw that she was silent and unmoving. Reaching a hand up to my cheek, I felt it was dry.

  The familiar creak of a leather jacket brought my attention to the third person in the room. Craig was pressed up in the corner, sobbing into his hands. The gun lay in the middle of his crossed legs, pointing at me. I wondered what the chances were of me being able to snatch it from him.

  Mom, as perceptive as ever, must have read the look on my face because the next thing I heard was her hissing across the room.

  "Don't you dare."

  I looked over and saw that in spite of the deadly situation, she still hadn't forgotten to be a mother.

  "I mean it," she said. "Don't move."

  I nodded and hung my head.

  Between the three of us lay the mattress, wet in the middle and browning at the edges. The whole room was filled the smell of fear and excrement.

  In the corner, Craig continued to cry, unable to hear our frantic whispering over the sound of our sobbing.

  "What the hell has been happening?" mom asked. “I was only away a week when I saw your photo online with some billionaire and I come home to this.”

  Her eyes were wide and terrified, her whole body shaking from the cold. Sat below the window with her hand tethered to the radiator, she was in the path of the draught from the broken window. I so badly wanted to leap over to cover her, hold her and tell her I was sorry she was caught up in this mess.

  Yanking at my wrist, I felt how the brittle rope was on the cusp of falling apart. I'd been working at it for hours, pulling and pulling, digging my nails into the knots to prize it apart one fraction of a milimetre at a time. Now, although my wrist was becoming red and raw, my hard work was starting to pay off and I found that there was some room to wiggle my hand around.

  With one swift jerking movement, I could free myself then that gun would be mine. Except this time I knew where he kept the bullets.

  In the top pocket of his jacket close to his cold heart.

  "Don't look at me."

  I hadn't noticed he was watching me but now he was peeking out through his fingers, the tears trickling down the backs of his hands. He looked like a frigthened child.

  "I said don't look at me!"

  "Craig, calm down."

  He started to sob again, his chest heaving up and down. Ungodly wheezing noises coming from his chest as he began to hyperventilate.

  "Calm down. Please!"

  Mom remained silent. I had been witness to these outbursts for days but she'd never seen him like this before. I watched her face as the realization that he wasn't who she thought he was swept over her.

  "Bitches," he spat into his hands. "The both of you."

  He grabbed the gun, a long ribbon of spit connecting his chin to his hand.

  "You'll pay."

  Mom and I watched in silent dread as he plucked out a handful of bullets from his pocket and one by one, started to load them into the revolver.

  "Don't, Craig. You don’t know what you're doing."

  "I know exactly what I'm doing!"

  He jumped up, and as soon as he strode over to the window, his tears had dried and he was no longer the frail and vulnerable boy in the corner. He was a maniac again and he wanted to have fun.

  Looking out into the street, he glanced left then right, then satisfied there was no one able to see inside, he began.

  "We're going to have a good time," he said to my mom and the blood inside me began to boil.

  "Get the fuck away from her!"

  He ignored me.

  "Yep, have a real good time."

  Mom wasn't easy to scare. She'd grown up in a rough neighborhood with five brothers. She was no stranger to violence but now I could see that she'd never been more scared in her life. There was something about the pure madness in Craig's eyes that made him seem so much more dangerous.

  She began to shake as he reached into his back pocket. Presenting her with his knife, he held it up in front of her face, the length of silver catching the moonlight.

  "You know, I never realized how beautiful you are," he said as moved the knife closer. "I bet you were even prettier than Etta when you were her age."

  Mom shook so hard I thought her knees were going to give way. Her eyes remained on the tip of the knife that was moving closer and closer to her face.

  Then, when it was almost touching her cheek, he moved it lower. The tip grazed her jawbone as he dragged it down her neck, across her throat then down to her collarbone.

  "You're still real pretty," he said.

  "Get away from her!"

  But he was ignoring me or maybe he didn't even know I was there. I yanked at the rope, burning my wrists as it tore at my skin.

  "Leave her alone!"

  He remained unflinching despite my screaming and continued to move the knife down lower until it was teasing the top of her blouse.

  Don't do it, I thought. Don't do it!

  Then, with a flick of the wrist, he ripped through it with the knife, popping off the top two buttons. They scattered onto the floor and I watched them bounce over to me. When I looked back up at mom, she was crying quietly, the tops of her bronzed breasts exposed to the moonlight.

  "Mom!"

  I pulled as hard as I could until I was sure my arm would break. With one final tug, the rope came free and fell to the floor. Before Craig could realize, I was crossing the mattress, standing in between him and mom.

  "Don't you dare touch her."

  He smiled, looking down at my bloody wrist.

  "You broke free," he said and poked out his slimy tongue to lick his chapped lips. "That's a very bad thing. Yep, a very bad thing and that means you need to get punished."

  “Just don’t touch my mom,” I said, at least relieved that he couldn’t reach her.

  He now pressed the tip of the knife against my br
eastbone with his other hand on the gun.

  “Get on the mattress,” he said.

  I froze.

  “If you don’t I’ll make sure your mother will.”

  I did as he said and lay my back on the cold, wet mattress.

  “It’s okay,” I told mom as she wept.

  I thrust out a hand and stroked her arm.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Chapter Three

  BERGER

  "Now, I want you to be good, okay? I'm here to take your blood pressure."

  Miranda bent over the bed and took my arm, gently scratching her long nails down over my bicep.

  "Just my blood pressure?"

  She pouted.

  "Unfortunately."

  With the curtains wide open, anybody walking through the ward could see us, including the group of nurses who had congregated around the nearby station. Whispering behind their hands and glancing over in our direction, it wasn't hard to guess what they were talking about.

  "We have an audience," I said.

  Miranda glanced over and rolled her eyes.

  "Little girls," she said. "Let them talk."

  "How about we let them watch."

  I slid a hand up her thigh and she stepped back.

  "Lord knows I want to but not here. Not now."

  "Aw, come on. This is killing me."

  "Not as much as it's killing me. You're the only thing getting me through this double shift. I was halfway home when I got called back in. Apparently, Tracey's daugther has the flu."

  She rolled her eyes again and puffed out her cheeks.

  "You don't believe that?"

  She strapped the cuff around my arm taking an extra special second to linger her hands on me.

  "I'm not saying that. It's just that it's the third time this year she's had the flu and it's only March."