Celestial desire, p.8
Celestial Desire, page 8
Unable to stop herself, she re-opened Zane’s most recent email chain and grinned. She’d show him. She dug the mobile out from under a series of components, verified that it was, in fact, dead, and then plugged it in. It would take a couple of hours to fully charge, but she didn’t really need her phone if she was with Zane.
Another twenty minutes passed, feeling more like twenty hours. She added a few memory chips to another system. Kicked off a few custom installs of her patent-pending firewall programs. Did trivial things that didn’t require much concentration, too excited to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time while she waited.
A mere thirty-five minutes after Zane’s last email, she heard her front door opening. Excitedly, she took a minute to pull her hair into a quick clip and apply a fresh coat of gloss to her lips.
“Hello, Celeste,” said an unexpected voice from behind her, freezing her instantly. “Did you miss me?”
* * *
Zane berated himself for telling Celeste to be ready in an hour. He thought it would take him longer to finish up all the schematics for his latest system but the thought of seeing Celeste again was a powerful motivator. He briefly considered taking the bike – he loved the way she wrapped herself around him when they rode – but opted for the Shelby instead.
Ten minutes early, but unable to wait any longer, Zane rang Celeste’s doorbell several times before remembering that it wasn’t working properly, chuckling again about her absentmindedness about such things and making a mental note to check it out for her later. He lifted his hand and gave a series of sharp raps against the door instead.
When nearly a minute went by without her answering, he knocked again, louder this time. He leaned his ear against the door, and could just barely hear the faint sounds of music from within. He smiled when he realized it was the CD he’d burned for her, a collection of classical pieces redone by heavy metal and hard rock artists that she absolutely loved. She said the music helped her focus.
He chuckled. She was brilliant and sexy, but she was also messy and adorably clueless at times. She had probably lost track of time and was deeply immersed in some computer program. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Or maybe she was taking a well-deserved nap. He had kept her up most of the night, but he couldn’t summon any regret over that. It was getting harder and harder to leave her in the morning; all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms until she felt safe and wanted and yes, loved.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key she’d given him. It was a remarkable show of trust on her part, giving him access to her anytime. She’d brushed it off, saying that with his knowledge of security he could get into her place anytime he wanted anyway. It was the truth, but still, her faith in him was humbling.
Amusement quickly morphed into concern when Zane inserted the key and found it already unlocked. Why was her door unlocked? He’d stood in this very spot only a few hours earlier, waiting until he heard the locks engage before he left to go back to his place. It was something he always did, since he knew she had a tendency to forget things like that.
The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened the moment he stepped into the entryway. Something was wrong; he felt it in his bones.
Zane made a quick and thorough search of her condo. A half-full mug of coffee sat on the counter, still slightly warm. Computers in various stages of construction littered every available surface in the living areas, lights blinking and screens moving as unintelligible computer code scrolled by page after page. The soft scent of Celeste’s preferred body mist – soy and honey – hung faintly in the air.
Nothing was out of place. Except Celeste. She wasn’t there. Where the hell was she?
Zane pulled out his mobile and thumbed a key. The muted sound of her ringtone reached him; he found the device charging on her desk beneath a box of labeled flash drives. Picking it up, he felt no compunction whatsoever invading her privacy.
There were several missed calls, most from him. But there was one number he didn’t recognize. He pressed the button that connected him directly to her voicemail, skipping over the ones from him until he got to the one he wanted.
“Mrs. Bradley, this is Carl Harmon, warden of the Stratford County Pennsylvania State Correctional Facility. It is my duty to inform you that two days ago, James Bradley was released from our facility. He failed to make the mandatory check-in with his parole officer this morning. If he violates the terms of the restraining order against him and attempts to contact you in any manner, please call this number immediately….”
Forcing himself to remain calm, Zane called Jessica, hoping beyond hope that Celeste had simply stopped over there for a quick visit. She hadn’t. Then he called his uncle and the police and made a quick sweep of the grounds, only to confirm what his gut already knew: Celeste was gone.
With Mitch’s connections, it only took a few phone calls to verify that less than a day after being released from prison, James Bradley paid cash for a one-way ticket from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to LA. The warden was notified. Because Bradley violated the terms of his parole and had left the state, several other agencies were notified as well, but it was too late. Bradley’s plane had landed on schedule the prior evening, where he had walked out of the airport and simply vanished.
Chapter 11
“Till death do us part,” James said, emphasizing the vow with the back of his hand. The force of the blow was enough to knock her from her precarious perch on the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Her head bounced off the lamp table beside it before landing face down in the filthy avocado green carpeting.
There was nothing she could do, her limbs had long since gone numb; her wrists and ankles were securely bound with zip ties, her mouth gagged. At some point James had removed the blindfold, but it did little good. Whatever James had pressed over her mouth to render her unconscious left her feeling nauseous and fuzzy-headed. The lingering stench in the sleazy motel room wasn’t helping at all, either.
Celeste tried to breathe through the stabbing along her temple, opening her eyes in an attempt to stop the horrible spinning sensation. When she spotted the healthy-sized rat peering out at her from beneath the bed, she momentarily forgot the pain and tried to rock her weight away from it. She only succeeded in making it onto her back, increasing the pulsating ache tenfold.
“When I said my vows, I meant them.” Celeste heard a muffled groan like the sound of a wounded animal, then realized it was her as she choked on the blood dripping down the back of her throat. James was there a moment later, reaching beneath her shoulders to lift her off the floor. He was not an overly large man but had always been in great shape, and six months in prison had only made him stronger.
He sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. He steadied her with one hand and removed the gag with the other, then pressed a cool, damp cloth against her nose. “In sickness and in health,” he murmured, his actions as gentle now as they had been harsh only minutes earlier. “You look so different, Celeste. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”
“Restraining … order,” she mumbled against the cloth, fighting the urge to retch. “Breaking… law.”
“Laws!” James spat, his voice dripping with scorn. “Worthless words written by faithless men. Laws change daily, hourly, based on whims and the public opinion of the sinful. The only law that matters is God’s law. You are my wife, Celeste. What God has joined, let no man put asunder.”
Celeste floated in and out of consciousness, trying hard to stay awake even as James rocked her gently back and forth. “Sweet Celeste,” James whispered, his voice pained. “Why do you drive me to do such things? What part of love, honor, and obey do you not understand?”
“You … hurt …. me,” she wheezed, the words nearly unintelligible.
“I didn’t mean to,” James said sadly. “When I came home early and saw that guy leaving…”
“Plumb….er”.
He sighed and held her tighter. “Yes, I know that now. I was wrong, Celeste. I saw him coming out of the house… he was smiling, you were smiling. Something just snapped in me, Celeste. And then I tried to apologize, but you wouldn’t let me explain…”
“Need… help….”
“I will take care of you, Celeste. We’re going to start over, you’ll see. I got us a special place in the mountains, just like you’ve always wanted. It’s in Canada, so it will take a few days to get there but then it will be just you and me, Celeste, like it was meant to be. No more interference. I’ll give you lots of babies, and we can be a real family, just like God intended.”
Celeste tried desperately to stay awake, but it was like trying to swim against a powerful tide. Those parts of her that weren’t numb hurt like hell, and unconsciousness promised a temporary respite that was getting harder and harder to resist. She wished she was stronger, or braver, but she wasn’t.
James held her until the bleeding stopped, rocking her gently and murmuring how everything was going to be all right. Celeste knew better than to disagree; it would only antagonize him, and if she sustained any more injuries there would be no hope of escape. No, the best thing she could do was remain quiet and non-combative until an opportunity presented itself. Attempting anything else at this point would be counterproductive, if not suicidal.
At least James didn’t seem to know about Zane, which meant Zane was safe. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him because of her. She’d lost track of time, but knew that several hours had to have passed. What had he thought when he’d arrived at her place and found it empty? He was probably worried, as was her mother, but at least they were safe. That was all that mattered.
With that in mind, she closed her eyes and hoped against hope that it would lull James into a false sense of security.
“Celeste, wake up, darling. It will be dark soon.”
Celeste cracked open her eyes to find James pulling her still-bound wrists up over her head and securing her hands to the back of the bed frame. Then he moved toward her feet and snipped the bonds around her ankles.
“Be a good girl, now,” he warned. “I’m going to get you out of these dirty clothes and into something warmer.” James quickly tugged her shorts down over her hips and along her legs. “It’s going to be much colder where we’re going and we don’t want you getting sick.”
Celeste tried in vain to move her legs, but it was no use. “Can’t move…” she whispered hoarsely.
“No,” he confirmed. “I gave you a mild paralytic with that last sedative; I had some things to do, and I couldn’t take the chance you’d wake up too early and try to slip away on me again, Celeste. It should last another hour or so, but we’ll be back on the road by then. I’ve already gotten us a new car and switched the plates, but we’re better off traveling at night, I think. At least until we cross the border.” James spoke calmly with just an edge of anticipation, as if they were going to spend the day picnicking at the park instead of fleeing the country.
“No…” Celeste knew if they made it that far, there was no hope.
“I know you still don’t understand, Celeste, but you will. I thought you were the one being tested, but I know now that I am, too. The plumber, prison, finding you – don’t you see? I have to prove that my love is pure.”
For all intents and purposes, James Bradley looked like a perfectly normal, ordinary man. With his tan, no-wrinkle Dockers and maroon Henley, he could have blended into any crowd and not raised even the slightest sense of concern in anyone around him. But Celeste could see the madness glittering in the dark brown eyes she had once thought so kind. It hadn’t been kindness at all. It had been cleverly-concealed insanity.
James exhaled, looking down at her bared legs. “You’ve lost a lot of weight, Celeste,” he said approvingly. “You look even better than I remember.”
His hand moved up at down her calf, over her thigh. “And so smooth. I know I told you to keep yourself natural, the way God made you, but I like it. See? I’m willing to compromise.”
“It’s been so long, Celeste. I’ve missed you. Once a man knows his wife, it physically hurts not to be with her, did you know that? It’s God’s way of reminding us of our spiritual bond through physical joining. And the two shall become one.”
He continued to move his hand up and down her leg, each time getting closer to the juncture of her thighs. “Mine,” he said in a fierce whisper as he palmed her mound through her panties. “I was going to wait until I carried you over the threshold again, but you are so tempting, Celeste. It feels almost sinful, but you are my wife, and that makes it okay.”
“No,” she breathed, the true horror of his words seeping into her like ice.
James grabbed the hem of her bloodied shirt and raised it up until it bunched at her wrists above her head. His eyes glittered when he took in her lace and satin bra. “So pretty…” he said, tracing the outline with his fingers. “You will not deny me this, Celeste. It is a sin for a woman to deny her husband his marital rights.”
Placing his fingers at the center of her bra, he flicked once and released the clasp, then peeled back the sides from her breasts with nothing less than reverence. “So pretty,” he repeated, cupping first one, then the other, pleased when she still overflowed his palms. “I can’t wait to watch our children suckle at your breasts, Celeste.”
He took another wet cloth and began to wipe the dried blood from her skin carefully, thoroughly cleaning her breasts before working downward to her belly. His hand froze right over her navel and he let out an evil sounding hiss as he noticed the piercing there.
The roar that came after was enough to rattle the lamps on the night tables. “What have you done?”
Her panties were suddenly torn from her body and she felt his fingers over her tattoo. His voice was little more than a choked gasp as he roughly flipped her over, wrenching her shoulders in the process as he examined her back for more markings.
“You have defiled yourself!” he said, the familiar maniacal gleam re-entering his eyes. “How could you let a man do this to you?!”
The sound of the bedside light crashing to the floor had Celeste trying to burrow into the bed in an attempt to protect herself, but she was barely able to move more than her head. She braced herself for the blows she knew would be coming any minute.
It took several moments for her to realize that someone was pounding at the door. Celeste lifted her head from the pillows and screamed as loud as she could, hoping that whoever was at the door would realize something was wrong and call the police. The sound brought James’ attention back to her and he slammed his fist down hard on the side of her face. The crack was audible and Celeste’s head snapped with the impact. She fell face-first into the pillow, and didn’t move or cry out again.
* * *
Zane forced himself to take a deep breath, swallowing the panic that threatened to overwhelm him and calling upon his inner discipline as he crept around the corner toward his target. This wasn’t a training exercise, and the people involved weren’t nameless, faceless strangers.
The exact situation within was unclear; the door was closed, the drapes were drawn. From the room to the left, a television game show host droned on; from the one on the right, a particularly spirited tryst was clearly audible through the low-quality door. The only functional illumination on this side of the building – a single exterior light on the corner - flickered in the darkness, off, then on, then off again.
What he wouldn’t have given for a thermal image scanner or some high-tech receivers at that moment! Zane paused, his body hugging the shadows, and focused. The murmur of voices - one male, one female – was barely audible. The female’s he recognized as Celeste. She was both alive and conscious, and that filled him with both relief and a renewed sense of hope.
That relief was short-lived when the man’s voice suddenly exploded in rage, followed almost immediately by a loud crash. Celeste’s terrified scream rent the air, and Zane no longer cared about anything except getting to her. Sig in hand, finger on the trigger, his turned his body and delivered one powerful kick to the flimsy door.
The door flew open, the wooden frame around the outside splintering under the force of the kick. Zane rushed into the room and came face to face with a stunned James Bradley. Bradley reached back, presumably for a weapon. His peripheral vision affirmed that Celeste was not in the direct line of fire, Zane didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession, firing once in the head, once in the heart; both lethally accurate kill shots by an expert marksman.
James Bradley slumped to the floor, landing with a sickening thud. After confirming that he was no longer a threat, Zane stepped over his body to get to where Celeste lay motionless on the bed.
“Celeste. Celeste, baby. It’s over. It’s going to be okay.”
Tucking the gun into the back of his pants, he pulled out his Ka-Bar and sliced through the ties around her wrists. Tinged a sickly purplish-blue, her hands dropped limply to the bed. She didn’t answer; she didn’t move. She didn’t acknowledge his presence at all.
Panic shot through him; his heart rose up into his throat as he took in her bruised, battered face and the blood. No! Zane refused to accept what his brain was telling him. He couldn’t be too late. Not again.
His first impulse was to turn her over, but his field training kicked in, his instincts warning him not to move her until he assessed the situation. With trembling fingers, he touched the pads of his index and middle fingers to her neck. He held his breath until he found a pulse. Celeste was alive!
Exhaling in relief, Zane did a quick but methodical exam, his inner rage growing with each new bruise and scrape he uncovered. Celeste remained unconscious, and was unable to provide any information on the extent of her injuries, but given the swelling and bruising between her jawline and collar bone, a broken or fractured neck was a very real possibility.
