Sullivan's Justice Read Free

prayed it was the boy next door. “Eric?”
    The intruder remained silent.
    It couldn’t be Eric, she decided. His voice was different. She couldn’t be certain, though, as the person was outfitted with leather clothing.
    “Don’t kill me,” she pleaded, tears pouring out of her eyes. “I have almost a hundred dollars in my purse. Take it . . . take anything you want. I won’t call the police. I swear.”
    “You think I’m a thief ?” he said, pressing his arm even harder against her throat.
    Suzanne gasped for breath. The intruder dropped his arm and spun her around. She felt his eyes wash over her. He was going to kill her. She remembered the family that was killed not long ago. The killer was so brutal, he’d murdered a six-month-old baby. The newspaper said he’d also decapitated his own mother. A stream of warm urine ran down her legs.
    Looking down at the puddle on the floor, she saw Freddy whimpering at her feet. The intruder kicked him through the open garage door, then closed and locked it. She remembered a self-defense tactic and locked her fingers on his arm, then dropped her body weight to the ground to break his grip. His arm felt like steel. He looked down at her and laughed.
    Suzanne’s teeth were chattering. She bit the inside of her mouth, tasting the salty blood. “Help me!” she screamed, hoping someone would hear her. “Call the police!”
    The assailant used the end of the gun, moving her robe aside in order to expose her naked body. Her stomach muscles twitched as she recoiled in terror. “Take me to your bedroom,” he said.
    Suzanne climbed the stairs, the gun pressing against her back. Why hadn’t she set the alarm? When they reached the master bedroom, her eyes went to the phone on the end table. She had to stall him, find a way to call 911.
    “Put on your bra and panties.”
    He must be a sadistic pervert who got turned on seeing women in their underwear. Maybe that was all he wanted. She yanked open a bureau drawer and pulled out a white push-up bra, snapping it in the front, then turning it around so she could shake her breasts into it. Next she found a pair of lacy T-back panties and quickly stepped into them.
    The assailant was standing perfectly still. The gun fell to his side. She could see his chest rising and falling. She didn’t care if he raped her, as long as he didn’t kill her. Her mother had taught her to imagine the worst thing that could happen, and then everything else would seem insignificant. She wiped her eyes with her hand, then straightened her back. She had to be strong. He might be one of those men who couldn’t get an erection unless the woman was submissive. He couldn’t rape her without an erection. If he didn’t get what he wanted, though, he might kill her. She made the decision. She’d take an aggressive stance and pray he would back down.
    “Why don’t you take off your clothes?” she asked, trying to sound seductive. “Then we can party. I bet you’re a better lover than my husband.” She forced a smile. Rotten bastard, she thought. You’re going to burn in hell. “My husband loves pretty underwear, too. I have drawers full of this kind of stuff. I can model it for you if you want.” She grabbed a handful and tossed it in his face, then threw herself in the direction of the phone.
    The intruder was too fast. She felt him on her back as she slammed face-first onto the floor. “Stupid woman,” he snarled, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling hard until her face was visible. “You should have never opened the door to the garage.”
    “Jesus, help me!” Suzanne cried, seeing him pull a plastic-wrapped syringe out of his leather jacket. “What are you going to do to me? Oh, God . . . please . . . my husband can get you big money, thousands. . . . Let me go and I’ll call him. He can be here in fifteen minutes.”
    The assailant placed the gun in the waistband of his pants, then used the toe of his boot to roll her onto her