Seven, eight ... Gonna stay up late (Rebekka Franck #4) (15 page)

"I think
you
should leave," I whispered.

Peter's lips had just left mine and he was
breathing heavily. I closed my eyes feeling the guilt and condemnation growing
inside of me. What was I doing? "I need you to leave," I repeated.

"But, Rebekka ..."

"Peter. I'm serious here. I'm with someone,
remember? I need time. I need space." I closed my eyes trying hard to
fight my urge to just let go, to just give in to Peter.

"Rebekka," he moaned under his breath.

Then he kissed me again and held me tight. I
didn't stop him. He looked me in my eyes as our lips parted. I felt helpless in
his hands, powerless. He always had that affect on me. He held my head between
his hands while looking into my eyes, like he was searching, scrutinizing my
soul.

"Peter," I said. "This is not
something we should be doing."

"But I want to. I want to be with you. I
want to touch you, I want to be close to you. I want you so badly."

I grabbed his hands and removed them. "I
know ... But it's just ... not ..." I didn't finish the sentence. Instead
I leaned over and kissed him. His lips felt soft and gentle. I was greedy,
demanding, longing to feel his touches. "Oh my god," I moaned while
he kissed my neck. "This is so wrong. This is so, so wrong."

"I know," he moaned while kissing
behind my ear. "But I can't stop."

"But ... but Peter, we have to."

"Shh," he said and put a finger over
my lips. "Don't speak."

The wine made the yard spin while Peter was all
over my body, touching, kissing. I was moaning, enjoying every little bit of
it, pushing all the guilt far, far away, pushing thoughts about Sune, the two
abducted girls, even Julie, far away. I closed my eyes and let him pull up my
dress. Then he pulled off his shirt. I sighed at the sight. He was still so
handsome, so well trained. I touched his muscles and pulled him close to me.
His lips were everywhere on my body, then he lifted me up and put me up against
the table.  He entered me with a deep moan.

My head was still spinning when we were sitting on the
table, smoking a cigarette afterwards. But now I was beginning to get a
headache too. Peter smiled and kissed me on the lips. I felt my stomach twist.
I hid my face in my hands. What had I done? How was I ever going to explain
this to Sune? I had completely destroyed everything we had together, just for
what? For pleasure? In order to get laid without thinking about babies and
pregnancy? I inhaled and blew out smoke while looking at Peter. Or could it be
something else? Was I not done with him? Was it possible for us to start over?
Was that what I wanted?

I rubbed my forehead while giving the cigarette
to Peter. He was still smiling happily. Of course this was exactly what he
wanted. But did it mean I wanted to get back with him? It would be great for
Julie, she loved Sune but she loved her daddy and being a family even more. But
would it destroy her friendship with Tobias? Not being able to clearly see the
consequences of all this I shook my head as the cigarette came back. I smoked.
I felt so confused and that stupid yard wouldn't stand still. It kept spinning
and I couldn't even think straight. Maybe I was just too drunk to make any
decisions right now. Maybe it would all be better in the morning. Maybe I would
be able to think clearer.

"You should go," I said to Peter.
"I don't want Julie to find you here in the morning. Or my dad."

Peter looked disappointed.

"Peter, I need some space. I need to sober
up and then I need time to think."

He nodded heavily. "Okay," he said and
got up from the chair. "I'll leave you alone, then. I'll be back tomorrow
to pick up Julie and drive her to camp."

Peter leaned over and kissed my forehead. I
breathed his scent. I had missed it, I realized. I had missed him. "See
you kiddo," he said and left.

As I watched him walk off, I lit another
cigarette. "Last one before I quit again," I mumbled and blew out
smoke. I stared at the light summer sky with its bluish light. It was almost
impossible to see any stars. I lowered my eyes and looked into the neighbor's
yard. I thought I spotted something in there and kept looking in that
direction. I blinked my eyes a couple of times. What was that? Was someone
standing behind the hedge? I felt a chill run down my spine. Had someone been
watching us?

Allan watched
the
woman through his binoculars. He still had a boner
on from watching them have sex on the patio-furniture. It had excited him in a
strange way. And now the woman was looking right at him. He pulled out the
knife in his pocket and felt the blade. Should he go with the knife? Or simply
knock her down with his binoculars? He could go with the handkerchief and
chloroform like last time if he didn't want to bruise that pretty face. It
would be a shame to leave a mark.

What was she doing now? he thought.
Oh my god, she is coming over here
. This
wasn't a part of his plan. But he was already far away from his original plan,
which had been to ask her to help him find his daughter. He had prepared a
story about how they had been walking in the neighborhood on their way home
from the movies, when they had started a fight and she had been angry with him
and run off. He was certain he had seen her run towards the woman's house, had
she seen the girl? Being a mother herself, he knew she would fall for it. Plus
he was wearing his expensive light blue shirt, and no one ever suspected
someone this nicely dressed - and handsome - to have wrong intentions, was his
experience.

 
Think
fast, think fast
, the voices yelled in his head. She was coming
closer now. He had to do something. He looked at the empty street. He could
run. That was always an option. He was a fast runner, she would never be able
to catch up with him. He tilted his head still while staring at her. She was
slowly walking closer and closer, with a curious look. Now it would be a shame
to run now, wouldn't it? Her skin probably still smelled of him. Smelled of
having sex with that other man. Allan would lick her body with his tongue, to
get the taste. Oh the joy, he thought. So what if meant he deviated and took a
chance. It was against the rules that the Master had set up for them. But Allan
didn't care. He was not like the others in the group, he was better than them.
He never got caught. He never left any traces behind. He didn't care about the
Master and all his games anymore. He wanted the woman to himself. He wasn't
going to share her.

Allan knew he risked bringing the Master's anger
upon himself for messing it up, but he had to do this kill on his own.

The woman's face was now too close to be seen in
the binoculars and Allan lowered them and looked directly at her.

"Hello?" she said. "Who is
there?"

Allan of course didn't answer. He stared back at
her and watched her come close. He remained motionless with the knife in one
hand and the binoculars in the other, still undecided which one to use. He had
never been in this uncontrollable situation before. Usually he had everything
planned to the smallest detail. It was dangerous but it also made it so much
more thrilling.

Like his first kill.

The girl's name had been Isabella. She lived on
a farm close to where he had been on vacation as a child. It was just after the
arrival of the baby. The people Allan had considered to be his mother and
father had just told him they were sending him away. Away to boarding school
and he wasn't going to come back to them, not even on vacations. They would
make arrangements for him to stay at the school and once he graduated he would
be sent to a business school in Switzerland. They had enjoyed having him with
them, they said, but it was time to move on. There was no more room for him at
the castle in Moegeltoender. That was when Allan had thought about killing for
the first time. He thought about killing the parents, he thought about
strangling the baby with a pillow. So he ran out without anyone noticing him,
found a young girl sitting by the lake with her feet in the water, playing with
a frog she had caught in her hand. She had showed it to him with such joy in
her eyes. Allan had taken it, then squeezed it till it exploded in his hands.
The girl screamed, but Allan hadn't cared. He knew she could scream all she
wanted to, but no one could hear her out there. That was the first time he had
enjoyed the thrill of having the power over someone's life and death. Of being
the one to choose whether a person should live or die.

He decided she needed to die.

With his bare hands he strangled her, then
thrown her in the water. He stared at her while she floated lifeless in the
surface, studied her, and studied the wondrous mystery of death. Once her body
filled with water and she started to sink, Allan had run back feeling like
everything was going to be alright after all.

Now for the first time in many years he thought
about the little girl who had been his first prey as he stared into the eyes of
the woman who was going to be his next.

"May I ask what you're doing out
here?" the woman asked. Then she froze.

"Do I know you?"

Like he had done fifteen years ago, Allan smiled
when he lifted his hand with the binoculars and slammed it hard into the
woman's head and she landed on the grass, bleeding from the huge mark on the
side of her head.

"I don't believe we've been properly
introduced," he said and picked her up.

Amalie's throat
was
so sore. She felt so incredibly thirsty and was crying.
Her body felt swollen, like it was about to explode. Like her internal organs
were blown up, out of proportion, like there wasn't any more room for them
inside of her body. Maybe she was just imagining it, but it felt like her liver
was already engorged. Did it really happen this fast? Her stomach was hurting
the most from being filled again and again. She wondered how many times her
body would be able to sustain this treatment. And even more she wondered when
the man would be back and continue the force-feeding.

She remembered seeing the man go upstairs and
turn off the light as he left them. She tried to scream, but her body hadn't
been able to cope with anymore. She had passed out for what she believed had to
be hours. Ever since she had awoken to the horrific reality she had been
sobbing in the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of Camilla in the box next
to her. The last she had seen of her was after the man had been done with
feeding her and taking pictures. Amalie could still hear the gurgling and
choking sounds coming from Camilla's box and she still had that eerie feeling
that maybe her friend was dead. The man also heard it once it had started and
turned to look at Camilla. Amalie had watched him while he was taking pictures
of her as well. It had filled her with disgust, the way he watched Camilla
drown in the water, the way he almost enjoyed himself while Amalie banged on
the box, tried to scream with this infamous pipe down her throat.
She is dying
, she had tried to yell, but
nothing but muffled sounds had emerged from her throat. Camilla is drowning,
she thought while sobbing and crying quietly inside.

Camilla, my love
.

Yes, she knew that Camilla was in love with her.
Of course she did. They had been best friends for almost a decade, well almost
all of their lives. Of course Amalie knew. And when Camilla had kissed her the
first time at the party? Yes, she had enjoyed it. She had wanted her to do it
for a long time. But as part of the royal family she also had a responsibility.
She could never come out as a lesbian. Just like her mother and father never
could be properly divorced without the Queen's acceptance, one they would never
get. That was just the way things were once you were part of the royal family.
They didn't get divorced and they certainly weren't gay.

Amalie sobbed. She wanted badly to wipe the
tears from her face, but her hands were still tied behind her back so she
wouldn’t pull out the pipe. It tasted ghastly and the metal was hurting her
tongue.

Will I ever get out of here alive
?
she thought sobbing.
And what about Camilla?
Do I even want to live without her?

Amalie tried again to see through the darkness
of the room and see if Camilla was moving at all. The man had pulled out a
small plug at the bottom of Camilla's box and let all the water out just before
he left. But it was long after Camilla had stopped making the gurgling sounds
and went quiet. The only sound worse than listening to her drown was the sound
of silence. Was she alive? Was she dead? Amalie hadn't heard a sound since the
man left them to go only god knows where. How long did he intend to keep them
there? Why hadn’t her father come for her yet? He always came. Couldn't he find
her? Had he finally reached the limits to what his power could do?

She'll be back, Amalie. Don't
worry. I'll make her come home.
Those were the words
he had used when Amalie had come into his office on that day her mother had
left. She hadn't cried or in any way showed she was sad that her mother had
left. She wanted to show him that. She wanted to make him proud. Yet he could
tell by looking in her eyes. His words comforted her and assured her that he
was right. He was going to get her back. If anyone could do that, it was her
father. And he did. Amalie's mother did come back, right after Pedro had been
attacked. She came back and stayed for a week. And that was when Amalie had
heard them talk.

"If you want a puppet, you've got it,"
her mother said. "But I'll never be more to you than that. I won't talk to
you, I won't make love to you. Not after what you did. Not after knowing that
you ... that you had sex with that woman and ... No, never again. That poor
kid. And what about Pedro? I'm only here because you forced me to, by
threatening Pedro. Your people told him that I'd better come home, or they
would destroy him. They showed him a picture of his daughter and set it on fire
right in front of his face! Goddamit, Christopher. Being royalty you should
learn to act like one. Better hope the Queen doesn't hear about all of
this."

Amalie's mother had played the best card she had
in her hand. The Queen. She was the only one who could reprimand the prince,
she was the only one Amalie's father had ever been afraid of.

After that conversation Amalie's father had let
her mother go for good, only having her promise that she would attend all
official events and making sure no one in the kingdom ever knew that she didn't
live at the castle anymore. Those were the terms and to those she agreed.

Amalie cried harder now while thinking about her
mother and all the things she would like to say to her now, before ... well
before it was too late. When suddenly she heard the sound of someone in the
room with her. It was the sound of someone groaning.