prove she was still alive. She wanted to be able to give him and Joe, who she was sure would be right next to her father, an indication of where she was.
So far she’d only been able to determine they were someplace drafty with no central heat. Her kidnapper had a Southern accent and he knew his Bible really well. The Hand had given nothing else away.
“Vivian! Oh, Vivian! Where are you, slut?”
Her body shuddered at the sound of his voice. He was back. Somewhere in the house. The panic returned, and she forced herself to take full breaths.
She could hear the creak of the door opening. Felt that she was no longer alone in the room.
“There you are. Right where I left you. That’s a good girl. A very good girl.”
Her heart started beating against her rib cage like it was trying to get out of her body. Although she found herself almost grateful for the adrenaline rush that warmed her a little.
She attempted again to talk to him. To reason with him.
“My father,” she said through chattering teeth, “will pay you whatever you ask.”
The Hand laughed, the sound more grating than his Bible verses.
“I don’t want your daddy’s money, Sugarplum. I want you. I love you. I want you to be with me. Forever. But I need to purify you first. I need you to come to me like a baby comes to her momma. When I know you’re clean then we can go away together.”
Moving her would mean a chance at escape. “I...think I’m clean now.”
She wasn’t at all. She’d peed herself twice since being here.
Since she couldn’t see beyond the blindfold, she was unprepared for the heavy backhand across her face, followed by a second and a third. Then a solid fist against her left temple made her head spin.
Although she should have expected it by now. He apparently didn’t like sass.
You’re losing it, Vivian. Get a grip now!
It was Joe’s voice in her head. Typical of him to be so harsh with her at a time like this. She would never understand why she had chosen to fall in love with a man as unforgiving as Joe Hunt. Then she actually giggled. Foolish girl. She was a child. What did she know about love?
“You’re not clean. You’re dirty! Dirty. Evil and dirty. I know because I see it in your eyes and in all those pictures they take of you. I see the dirt, and I want to cry because I know you want to be clean. Don’t you, Sugarplum? Don’t you want to be clean?”
“I...want...to...be...clean,” she stuttered. “Maybe I could have a blanket and wipe myself off.”
The Hand connected with her right cheek this time.
Okay, the hitting was starting to piss her off. Although maybe that was a good thing. The anger mixed with her fear might keep her warm a little longer. Which was important because if she died of hypothermia before Joe rescued her, she was sure she’d never hear the end of it.
Wait, she thought hazily, that didn’t make sense. She tried to shake off the low buzzing in her head. She needed to stay clear. She needed to listen for clues.
“Sugarplum, Sugarplum, I don’t want to hurt you. I have to hurt you because you don’t understand. You can’t get clean from the outside. You need to get clean from the inside. Do you understand now?”
She let her head fall forward a few times.
“Goooood,” The Hand crooned. Then he began to stroke her hair. “You’ll see, Sugarplum. This will work. You’ll get clean and I will have been the one to save you. Then we can be together. Forever.”
She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “What if... I...don’t...get clean?”
A thin point of pressure against the base of her throat penetrated the numbness. It wasn’t a gun. It was too thin. Sharp. A knife.
“Then I’m going to have to make you clean. I’m going to have to open you up so I can get the dirt out. Then I will baptize you in your own blood. You’ll like that. You will at least be clean for God.”
“Oh...kay...” she muttered, losing all sense of what he was saying. She was fading. She felt it. Her body was starting to shut down, and for the first time Vivian considered what might happen if Joe didn’t get to her in time.
“I don’t want to do it, Sugarplum. I surely don’t. God has told me that you are my one and only beloved, and you must sparkle if you are going to be with me. But if I can’t get you to sparkle...if I can’t make you shine...then I have to kill you, don’t you see? I can’t let you be with anyone else. Not when you’re so dirty. Clean with me or dirty and dead.”
“Joe... Joe,” she muttered like a mantra over and over again.
“Very slowly, put the knife down and back away from the woman.”
Vivian lifted her head at the new voice in the room. She hadn’t heard the door over The Hand’s talking.
“Joe,” she cried out.
“Shut up, Vivian.”
Yep, that sounded just like him.
“No!” The Hand cried out in return. “You can’t have her! She’s a dirty slut, but she’s mine. She’s mine. She’s all mine!”
“This is your last warning. Put the knife down and step away from the chair.”
“Never! I love her. I love Sugarplum this much!”
Three successive shots rang out. Vivian felt a heavy weight fall against her body, and then she felt something wet and warm run down her stomach and legs.
The smell of it hit her like a punch in the gut.
Blood.
Then she didn’t feel anything anymore.
* * *
JOE SAT IN the waiting area of the hospital, his head in his hands.
What did I do? What did I do?
The single question kept rolling over in his head, and he couldn’t turn it off. He probably should have been more focused on the events of the last three days. Working with the FBI, identifying Harold McGraw through footage at various public events, tracking down an obscure piece of property in northern Virginia he owned. Only forty miles outside DC.
It had been good work by everyone on the team, and they found her. Alive.
It had been the first time he’d discharged his weapon as an agent, and it had been lethal. Joe didn’t care, so why did he keep asking the question?
What did I do? What did I do?
He knew the answer.
I let her go. I let her go. I let her go.
He
