Tag: suspense

  • Week 336 – All of a sudden there are lights and sirens surrounding them

    Fury unlike anything Emma had ever experienced before flooded through her system, decimating the fear.

    How dare he.

    He knew absolutely nothing about her, about what she’d suffered, what she’d lost. His accusation hit directly on her most sensitive nerve, her greatest pain, and she hated him for it.

    Those black eyes of his flickered for a moment, and his grip on her neck loosened. Taking advantage of that she shoved at his chest with all her might, it did little more than hurt her hands, but it obviously amused this man who did the last thing she expected and burst into laughter.

    “Are you laughing at me?” she demanded, still riding her high of anger. It would fade soon enough, when this huge man decided he was ready to kill her.

    “You’re adorable,” he said as a response and released his hold on her, stepping back and lowering his weapon.

    Guess she was no longer a suspect in his mind. Emma couldn’t say the same for herself. He’d shown up here with a weapon, threatened her, left her with bruises she was sure. He had what it took to kill whoever had been on board the boat.

    “But you don’t have what it takes to take lives. You didn’t do this. Did you answer the distress call, Emma?”

    While he seemed inclined to move on as though he hadn’t hurt her, terrified her, she wasn’t so inclined to forgive and forget. Still she couldn’t not answer, that would be rude.

    “Yes. Did you?”

    “Yeah. I didn’t see anything when I was approaching, but you got here first. Did you see anything?”

    “Just a boat leaving, I thought it was odd, wanted to check everything was okay, so I came on board anyway. S-saw the b-blood …” An image she would never forget. It was seared into her mind now along with all the other times she’d seen blood drenched floors.

    “Hey.” The big man stepped closer, grasped her chin, only this time his touch was incredibly gentle and there was not a spark of fury in his black eyes. “You’ll be okay, you’re tough.”

    That surprised a laugh out of her. “How would you know? You don’t know me.”

    “You hit me. Granted it didn’t achieve anything, but even though you were scared you fought back. You’re a fighter, thats all I need to know.”

    Unsure what to make of his statement, said so confidently, Emma said nothing. Then all of a sudden there are lights and sirens surrounding them.

    While she interpreted that as a sign the cavalry had shown up, the man obviously did not. Grabbing her hand he dragged her along with him out into the cold night.

    “Hope you can swim,” was all he said before he picked her up and jumped off the side of the yacht with her in his arms.

  • Week 335 – Emma stiffened her backbone and snarled at

    She felt so small beneath his hand, fragile, her delicate bones would be so easily crushed.

    If she was involved with whatever happened on this boat tonight, he’d break those bones himself. Didn’t matter to him. Nothing mattered to him anymore.

    Having everything you loved ripped away from you would do that to a man.

    Easing off her throat when he saw her eyes begin to bulge he growled again. “What did you do?”

    Pure terror shone from the grey eyes that stared back at him. Dark red hair hung around a pretty face that was currently much too pale, fear having sapped any color that was usually in her cheeks or plump lips.

    “What. Did. You. Do?” he demanded again when she still didn’t speak.

    “W-was it y-you?” she stammered.

    “Was what me?”

    “Th-the b-blood.” Her face took on a green tint as she mentioned the blood as though the thought of it made her nauseous.

    Black loosened the hand on her neck further, suddenly uncertain that this woman was involved in what looked like a massacre by the amount of blood. Could she have answered the distress call as well?

    Letting his guard down was a surefire way to getting himself killed. Sure the woman looked all sweet and kissable, she had perfect curves, and a heart shaped face, she was the kind of woman men dreamed about but that didn’t make her innocent.

    As he’d searched the boat he’d seen toys scattered about. Children had been on here, had likely been killed along with everyone else.

    “What’s your name?”

    “E-Emma.”

    “Are you the kind of woman who kills innocent babies, Emma?”

    Emma stiffened her backbone and snarled at him. “I don’t hurt babies, you jerk. You’re the one with a weapon, maybe you killed them all.”

  • Week 334 – Scared eyes looked up at me

    This was going to wind up being the worst mistake of her life.

    If she lived through it.

    Emma wasn’t so sure she would.

    Someone was out there, and she was sure they were heading right towards her hiding place.

    Her fear was confirmed when the top of the seat concealing her from view was suddenly ripped off and she was left staring into the barrel of a weapon and a very angry face.

    Despite her terror the first thing she noticed about the man was that he was handsome. Model level handsome. Like the kind of face that filled women’s dreams. There wasn’t a single thing wrong with it. Except maybe the eyes. They were so black you couldn’t distinguish the iris from the pupil.

    “Who are you?” the man snarled. For a second his expression flitted to a scared eyes looked up at me one, but it was quickly gone and suspicion and fury were all that were left.

    This was a dangerous man. Emma knew that without a shadow of a doubt. Was he one of them? One of the men who had killed whoever had been on the boat?

    She’d answered the distress call when it had gone out. By the time she’d arrived a second boat had been driving away from this one. Confused and wondering if the problem had been a simple one that someone else had already fixed she’d approached and come on board anyway, wanting to be sure these people were okay before resuming her evening on the ocean.

    But then she’d seen the blood, heard the roar of an approaching engine and terrified that whoever had killed the owners of this yacht had returned she’d hidden.

    “Answer me,” the man holding a gun on her ordered, but she was so scared she couldn’t have spoken no matter what he did. “Did you do this? Did you slaughter them?”

    When she still couldn’t make her voice work he growled, an actually growled, and reached towards her. His large hand tangled in her hair, making her scalp burn as he dragged her out of her hiding place. Too terrified to fight back, not that she knew any self defence moves anyway, he yanked her hands behind her back, bound them with something hard and unyielding, then shoved her up against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat, the other holding his weapon against her temple.

    “Tell me what you did.”

  • Week 333 – A lovely day

    Black relaxed as the last rays of sunlight disappeared and night fully took hold.

    Iy had been a lovely day, clear blue skies, sunshine, birds singing, butterflies flitting, warm but not too hot. The kind of day people went all soft and gooey over.

    But not him.

    He hated the summer. With a vengeance. Couldn’t wait for it to hurry up and get gone for another year. Give him a freezing cold, dark, overcast, snowy day and he was a happy camper. But summer and sunshine and heat, it hurt his black little heart.

    Like most things in life, summer had to be endured, and so he did so without complaint. Okay, that was a lie. He complained. A lot. All summer long. But in the end he still what he needed to do even if all he wanted to do was hide out in his house with he lights off until winter returned.

    At least with the sun down, the dark sky spread out above him like a beautiful black canvas dotted with millions of twinkling stars, Black could pretend that it wasn’t his least favourite time of the year. With the wind in his hair he steered his yacht towards the boat that had let out a distress signal.

    Usually it wasn’t in his nature to go out of his way to help others. Black was focused to the point of obsession on any goal he set himself, and this time out here on his yacht at night was supposed to be his own, his time to unwind, declutter his mind, prepare for the next day. But rules of the sea said you answered the call. So he was. Reluctantly.

    All was quiet when he approached the other vessel. It was dark, no lights on, no sounds, no person awaiting help.

    Nothing.

    Unease prickled across his skin. Something wasn’t right. While he wanted to turn, drive off, pretend he’d never heard the call, Black found that he couldn’t.

    Something was drawing him towards the boat.

    So he pulled up alongside the vessel, a slightly larger yacht than his own, and boarded. Even now as he walked about there was nothing, not a single sound, not a single sign of life.

    Then he saw it.

    The blood.

    Everywhere.

    Like a massacre had occurred.

    Pulling out his weapon, he moved methodically through the yacht, searching for anything that might tell him what had gone on here. He should leave, call in the cops, let them deal with it.

    He almost did, but then he sensed it.

    A person.

    Close by.

    There. His gaze zeroed in on a small space under a seat was what looked like a storage compartment. It was just big enough to hide a person.

    Weapon trained on the space, he reached out with one hand and ripped off the top of the seat.

  • Week 332 – Someone grabbed Clover from behind

    Oh no.

    That couldn’t be good.

    Looking around in a panic as the alarm blared at top volume, Clover knew her best-her only-chance at surviving this had just gone up in smoke.

    Why had Hunky Horror told her she could come down here and go to the bathroom if he knew she was going to set off an alarm? Maybe she’d made a mistake in trusting him.

    When he came running down the hall towards her she backed away from him. Instead of grabbing her like she had expected he slowed, held up his hands, palms out in a gesture meant to calm her. When he spoke his voice was soothing, like he was speaking to a spooked animal. “Wrong door, Lucky.”

    “Huh?”

    “Offices are through there, you opened the exterior door.” When he nodded at the still open door she saw he was right. Through it was the dark night, not an office or a bathroom.

    “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, and for the first time since she was taken from the hospital tears burned the backs of her eyes, a couple tumbling free. She was scared. Really scared. All she wanted was to go home, but that wasn’t happening any time soon … probably not ever.

    For a moment Hunky Horror looked stricken at the sight of her tears. Then he did the unexpected by reaching out and catching a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry, Clover,” he said softly. “I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of here. Trust me, okay? I need you to stay strong a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

    His sudden kindness and gentleness nearly broke her but somehow she managed to pull herself back from the brink. Rubbing at her eyes she gave him a single nod, the best she could manage at the moment.

    “There’s my girl, you got this.”

    There was no time for her to wonder why he was being so nice to her, or address the my girl comment, because someone grabbed Clover from behind and she screamed.