Jane tucked her newly acquired decorating books against her hip as she fished into her purse for her car keys. A voice came out of the darkness, startling her. Jumping, she almost dropped the books and pulled them tighter to her side as she turned.
“Jeepers Harold, you scared me.” Jane shifted her hands under the books to spread some weight.
Harold’s voice was hushed and breathy as he slid out from between his Taurus and a cement pillar. “I’ve been reading those books about manifesting what you want. You know the Tim Robbins and Andrew Carnegie books.”
Jane curled her lip, even from three feet away she could smell stale tobacco on his clothes. “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”
“You’re here aren’t you.” His left eye twitched rapidly.
“What do you mean?” A chill danced up her spine. She felt her nipples harden under her bra and rounded her shoulders, now longing for the cable-knit sweater that she thought was too hot to wear.
Harold stood straight, his brown stained teeth too jumbled in his small mouth appearing rat like as they peeked between his dry lips. “I’ve been visualizing you and me together.” His worn Keds shuffled the dusty cement as he moved imperceptibly closer.
“Uh,” Jane took a step back and hugged the books up to her chest. She took a quick glance beyond Harold and into the gray depths of the cold parking garage, noticing now how cavernous it felt. “Sorry Harold,” she mimicked checking her watch, never truly taking her eyes off him, “I’m in a bit of …”
Suddenly a shadow rose from behind a sleek black SUV. A swift motion of darkness that blended with the rest.
The shadow moved so fast that Harold didn’t get to turn his head before the steel pipe connected with his temple. His arms flew straight out towards Jane, as though reaching for an embrace, his body lost control and tottered sideways.
Jane gasped. Her eyes widened, dropping her books, she turned to run. Her foot slipped on the smooth cement. She instinctively put out her arms to catch herself, but her fall was halted by an unseen force, and she found herself wrapped in a granite embrace.
Jane felt the heat of the man’s body penetrate her chilled skin. Trying to look back and see who it was that held her, she never got the chance. A giant hand blocked her mouth and nose, holding her head firmly forward.
Her lungs had not had time to fill from her fright, and she attempted to suck in air through a wall of thick skin. Jane wiggled, kicking at solid thighs.
A soft voice that did not match the monster, whispered, “You were not his to take.”
The humid breath caressed her ear, her body involuntarily shivered, and she wet herself, as the voice finished.
“You are mine, Jane.”