that grated down her spine, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Jason breathed heavily.
Completely awake, she didn’t answer, trying to assess the situation. Sending out the tendrils of her mind, she entered Jason’s.
Nervousness and anxiety elevated Jason’s desire. Diseased pictures, red and lustful, spiked through. His mind spoke of revenge and strength, control, and her body receptive, wanting.
Ellyssa’s stomach rolled, and bile rose within it.
Somehow, Jason had concealed his true nature. She’d never seen this side of his fantasies. Maybe his conscience had squashed them, until now. Maybe his memories were distorted by his own perception of right and wrong.
“I know you’re awake. I want you to roll over, slowly.”
Ellyssa heard the click again. It wasn’t a gun, as she’d first suspected. It sounded like metal on metal. Slow and steady, she rolled onto her back. Jason leered over her, ropes draped from his left shoulder, a butcher knife poised in his right hand. He tapped the blade against a button on his pants.
Click.
Running his finger along the length of the blade, Jason watched her. “Let me explain to you how things are going to work. You’re going to roll onto your stomach and place your hands behind your back.”
Ellyssa, still in his mind, watched his objective play out to the finale. Excitement thrummed inside him.
Jason planned on taking her arms and tying them to the frame of the cot, spread-eagle-style. The next part involved him kneeling between her legs.
He was insane.
Instead of flipping over, Ellyssa stared at him, her eyes holding steady, her face an emotionless mask. Fear of him didn’t exist. Not for her. She wanted him to be aware of the fact that intimidation wouldn’t work.
As she held his gaze, Jason’s tongue darted out, snakelike, licking his dry lips. Strings of spittle stretched on the edges of his mouth. Sweat trickled from his left temple and coasted down the side of his face. He ran his free hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands hanging over his forehead. A tic developed over his right brow and jumped at regular intervals, beating with his pulse.
For a split second, Jason’s confidence wavered under her scrutiny. Ellyssa wasn’t cowering like he’d expected. He wasn’t used to the defiance. Unease settled as Jason wandered if he’d be able to force her to keep quiet.
Blinking, Jason broke eye contact, but, as his gaze floated down to her breasts, he reclaimed his conviction.
He stepped back and poked the tip of the knife into her thigh, applying pressure. “Roll over,” he ordered, his tinny voice steady and demanding.
When she didn’t comply, he leaned into the knife.
Anger boiling, her natural instincts stampeded to the front, overcoming everything else. She didn’t feel her skin slice from the pressure of the blade, or the trickle of wet sliding down her thigh.
Jason clicked his tongue, as if in reprimand. He pushed harder. This time she felt the stab of the smooth metal, but not enough to hinder her. He pulled the blade away. “Now.”
Ellyssa did as he commanded. Not out of fear, but waiting for the mistake that would give her the upper hand, without her being harmed.
As she settled onto her stomach, Jason moved to the other side of the cot, slowly, quietly, barely a whisper from the soles of his shoes along the ground. No wonder she hadn’t heard him come in, alerting her to the intrusion. When Jason wanted to be sneaky, he was better than she’d expected.
Jason placed his knee in the middle of her spine, grabbed her right wrist, and twisted, pulling it behind her. Ellyssa’s breath hitched as his weight crushed her ribs. Her face pressing into the pillow, he rotated her hand, the palm facing inward, hitching her thumb, and brought it over her head.
“One little move,” he said, leaning over her, his fetid breath brushing her ear. He jabbed her in the ribs with his weapon. “I’ll break your wrist.”
Ellyssa tried to nod.
After warning her again with a quick jab from the knife, he withdrew the sharpened point from her side as he yanked her hand down to the frame of the cot. He shifted his weight and leaned over to secure her hand to the metal leg.
It was a stupid move on his part.
His hands busy, the weapon no longer a threat, she bucked up onto her knees, and in one fluid motion, flipped him over the cot and landed on her feet.
Jason squeaked in surprise, as his back smacked the ground. The knife clattered next to him. His fingers found the hilt, and he popped up brandishing the blade.
Armed or not, Ellyssa moved toward him. Her body fluid, fast, she struck. Once, twice in his face, her backhand strike finding its mark. His head rocked back with each impact. Blood spewed from his nose and more flowed from a split lip.
Blindly, Jason swiped at her, the blade flashing. She blocked, but he retreated before she could disarm him. He stepped back, weapon between them. His eyes wild and fearful, he studied her, regret pouring from his mind.
“You made a mistake,” Ellyssa said, circling him as a predator would prey.
Jason jabbed the knife in the air. “Stay back.” He tried to move toward the only escape route.
As if he could outrun her.
Crouching, ready to spring, Ellyssa’s instincts to survive surging within her, she slid to the side. His back stayed facing the metal cabinets. He swiped the blade through the air again. A sloppy swing, poorly aimed.
Fear poured from him, scenting the air with a musky odor.
On the verge of attack, taking him down like an animal, another sound—one she recognized—stopped her. A shell chambered into a shotgun. Even she couldn’t outmaneuver a bullet.
“What’s going on here?” Candy demanded, her musical voice wavering, unsure.
With her back toward the new threat, Ellyssa didn’t respond, but the look on Jason’s face said a lot. Relief, followed by a sneer. Indecision churned in Ellyssa as she tried to decipher what Candy’s eyes had witnessed.
“Candy,” he said, his voice nasal from his broken nose.
“You, over there,” she said, indicating for Jason to move to the back.
The smile fell away. “She attacked me.”
“I said, get over there. Ellyssa, put your hands where I can see them and turn around.”
Ellyssa waited until Jason moved closer to the cots before she extended her arms. He still brandished the weapon, light reflected in the lustrous surface. She faced the fiery redhead. The double barrel pointed at her chest.
“I told you, she attacked me,” Jason said.
While the shotgun stayed trained on Ellyssa, Candy’s eyes darted toward Jason. “Why are you even here? I woke up and you were gone.”
Ellyssa waited to hear which lie would actually spout from his mouth; his mind was cluttered with all sorts of excuses.
When he didn’t answer, Ellyssa did. “He tried to rape me,” she said.
The muzzle of the gun dropped. “No.” Candy shook her head and her braids swung back and forth. “That’s not true. Jason?”
“Babe, she’s lying.” His voice was steady and calm.
“I am not lying. He came in here with a knife, and threatened me.”
“You lying bitch,” Jason screamed. “You know me better than that, Candy. I’ve never hurt anyone.”
In an instant, Ellyssa saw it all. What Ellyssa had glimpsed in Jason’s mind weeks before played out differently in Candy’s head. Jason had hurt her, and the shame of Jason’s actions had kept Candy quiet.
“That is a lie. Is it not, Candy?”
Candy’s lips pursed ever so slightly and her eyes widened. “Wh-what?” she stammered.
Ellyssa composed compassion on her face. “A few months ago, when you first started to…date, he hurt you. His touch was not gentle, as you had imagined, but rough as he took you in the storeroom. The bruises on your thigh took forever to fade.”
