You Only Die Twice Read Free Page B

facade she brought with her to work each
morning because she needed a job in order to create an existence for herself,
she was cynical, untrusting and deeply sad for all that was lost to her the
night Mark Rand literally stole away her life, and also how she viewed life
now.  
    Rand was
sent to prison for his crimes, but because of what he did to her, Cheryl also
was sent to a prison of her own.  
    She
wanted to trust people again.   She
wanted to be rid of the hate that lived within her.   In spite of her fears to the contrary,
one day she did want to be open to a potential relationship.   She did want to get married, have children,
have that normal life other people took for granted, but the risks, she felt,
were too high.  
    Regardless
of what her therapist and Patty said to her, it was safer to shut people
out.   It was safer to be that
smiling secretary who worked hard and nodded politely at her boss’s whims, but
who went home alone at night, terrified that someone might jump her when she
hurried from her car and into her apartment.  
    Now,
inexplicably, nine years after the event with Rand, here she was again, on the
cusp of being undone by some unknown man.  
    The
movement in the woods drew closer.   She couldn’t just hear it now―she could feel it.   A part of her knew that was
intentional.   He wanted her to know
that he was close.   He wanted her to
run now.   He was ready for his game
to begin and she had no choice but to begin it for him.  
    There
was a trail in fro nt of her and behind her.   A wild of woods was to her right and to her left.   Obviously, she couldn’t go left―he
was there, waiting for her to emerge.   Choosing the path would be easier, but she would be exposed, which could
end in a quick death if he had a gun.   But if she could cut through the snare
of woods off to her right, she might be able to get ahead of him and conceal
herself as she ran into the deep they provided.
    And so
that’s what Cheryl Dunning did.   She
ran.   And the moment she ran, she
heard a burst of activity behind her.   Trees bent.   Branches
snapped.   Then his voice:   “That’s a girl!   You run now!   You run, whore!”   He clapped his hands, the sound of which
licked at her back as she pushed through the woods, the twigs flicking across
her face and her outstretched hands like merciless whips.  
    “Make it
fun for me,” he said.   “Come on now,
Cheryl.   Don’t disappoint!”

 
 
 
    CHAPTER SEVEN

 
    Patty
Jennings woke that morning alone.
    She was
flat on her back, the covers were pulled close to her face, and she was sore,
unusually so.  
    She
looked to her right and wondered what time he left.   Or if, in fact, he had left.   He might be in the living room or in the
kitchen, but she doubted it.   During
the few times in her life that she’d taken home a man, they usually just left,
which Patty didn’t mind.   She
preferred it when they left.   No
awkward good-byes that way.   No lies
that they’d see each other again.   No being set up for disappointment.
    She laid
there for a minute and tried to remember the night befor e.   She and Cheryl went to The Grind.   It was her thirtieth birthday, she
remembered coaxing Cheryl to do shots with her, and then she met―what was
his name?   Jake?   Jack?   She couldn’t remember.   Whatever his name was, she met him when
she came out of the bathroom and while he was younger than she, she couldn’t help
noticing that he was awfully good looking and built.
    Though
her head was still foggy from not enough sleep and too much alcohol, what she
also remembered is that he was a powerhouse last night.   Young or not, he was so good in bed, so
masculine for his age and in control, that she let him have his way with her,
which he did.   And did again.   Was there a third time?   She thought back, remembered there was
and couldn’t help a smile.
    “Finally,”
she said aloud, “I’ve lived up to my