DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To Demeter94[at]yahoo.de
SERIES: Cut Series

By Demeter


After Jill's unexpected visit, he was restless. He hadn't expected them to find the body so soon – but then so be it. It only meant that he had to move things along a little faster. Getting himself a bottled water out of the fridge, he walked down the stairs to the basement.

Lindsay was awake. "Good morning, my princess," he said.

She stared back at him defiantly, her dark eyes filled with hate. The only defense left for a woman bound and gagged.

Pete snickered. No doubt she was fantasizing about ways to hurt him. Not much of a chance.

He studied her for awhile, taking a sip of water which he was sure she craved by now. He frowned at the bruise that marred the side of her face. It hadn't really been his intention to hit her, but she was still too cocky, too confident yet.

"How would you like company?"

Her eyes widened. She understood perfectly. For the first time, the anger and disgust gave way to fear. Pete had expected that. "Jill was here, looking for you," he told her. "But I'm not interested in her. If anything, she's always been nice."

He stepped closer, running a hand down her bare arm. Lindsay did not flinch, but he could feel her muscles tense with the effort not to shrink back. She didn't have to worry. At the moment, he wasn't much interested in her body. Not the way he'd been when he'd played her boyfriend, holding all the cards. He could have revealed himself, he could have killed her at any time. Kiss-Me-Not, the man she'd willingly shared her bed with.

It was her soul he was now after. To break her. And he knew how.

Leaning closer, he whispered, "Poor little Cindy."

Lindsay yanked violently at the pipe she was tethered to, the abrupt movement startling even him. The pipe was sturdy though, and the only result she'd achieved was the blood trailing down her arms.

"Stop that!" he snapped at her. "You're going to hurt yourself."

For the first time since she'd woken up in hell, Lindsay cried.

Pleased with himself, Pete left to move his brilliant plan to the next stage.

It was all Lindsay's fault, he thought grimly as he parked his car outside the San Francisco Register building.

Cindy is too damn brave for her own good, she'd said with admiration and pride in her voice. I'm worried about Cindy. She and Jill got into a bad fight. Cindy got shot. Lindsay had cried that night, and Pete had loved her, how vulnerable she had been. She'd let her guard down completely, and it would have been easy to just let the fun start there and then. Too easy.

Pete loved a challenge, and Lindsay Boxer had fit the requirements right from the start.

What he hadn't understood right away was that her feelings for Cindy weren't actually sisterly. She wanted her. Once Pete had realized that, he first cursed himself, then Cindy Thomas. Then, he had begun to dream about her.

She was the perfect tool. She was perfect, period.

He couldn't wait to see Lindsay's reaction when he showed her.

The End

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