Pure Vengeance

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Schemer

Mark

Mark watched her for a while. He noticed each fidgety gesture as she checked her phone, then her watch, before she glanced around the restaurant. His table, at the far end of the dining room, was obscured by two enormous indoor plants and a multi-colored aquarium. Hannah never saw his furtive stares or had the chance to acknowledge his pleasure at her clear disquiet.

Just like old times…

He grinned. It almost was except the gorgeous woman, heavy-breathing at the other end of the establishment, was fully clothed and wondering where her date was.

Saul was late, and unfortunately for Hannah, Mark knew he wouldn’t be coming. He ought to know, after all. He’d been playing the cat-and-mouse game with her for weeks. It had been fun, too. For a while, at least—knowing she was out there, hanging on to his every word. He’d hardly believed his luck.

Since his early release from prison for good behavior, the hours had been hard to fill, though his lawyer assured him Mark was lucky to get early release at all. His numerous counts of kidnapping should have seen him behind bars for many more years, but as it transpired, he’d gone to prep school with the guy running the prison, and the two had formed an alliance of sorts, facilitating his departure from the hell that had been incarceration. He hoped Brandon Fuller had the same luck at his prison, though Mark hadn’t been able to confirm what had happened to his old friend and partner.

Being free had led to the question of what to do next. Sadly, returning to dentistry after prison had been a definite no-go. He and Fuller had been struck off the medical register, and instead, he’d found himself on one designed for sexual offenders.

There was only one thing on Mark’s mind as he sat, night after night, in his tiny hostel room. One thing that drove him and kept him up at night.

Revenge.

He didn’t deserve his current situation. He’d once lived in a gorgeous five-bedroom townhouse, and now he was reduced to this… for what? So, he and Fuller had helped a few women express their sexuality—so what? He didn’t merit this kind of fall from grace. A number of his old captives had collaborated on the stand to take him down, but only one had been the true perpetrator of the revolt, triggering the spiral of defiance and disobedience among the others.

Hannah Bowman.

Hannah with her soft hair and tight body. Hannah with her long limbs and smart mouth. Whether she realized it or not, and he accepted she might not, the woman had become his nemesis. The one who’d riled the others into revolution, who’d stood up to him and failed to break.

In the darkness of his cell, and later his hostel, and the small, crappy house he moved to, the idea of finding her and getting her back had become the air he’d breathed, a consuming dream that had dominated most of his waking hours, as well as the hot dreams he enjoyed at night. But the reality was little more than a distant dream. That was until he’d decided to Google her. Right then and there, he’d spotted her account on the ridiculous dating app, and a plan had formed in his mind.

He’d be Saul, a facade who could lure and cajole her. After all, he already knew the things that got Hannah’s hot little pussy wet. She, for her part, would be none the wiser, naively playing along with his suggestions, night after night. His plan had escalated when she’d suggested they meet. That’s how he came to find himself sitting in the restaurant on this fateful evening, his hard dick straining against his pants as his hand skimmed over the full syringe in his pocket.

Suppressing his smile at the thought of what awaited her, he sipped his beer. He ought not to be indulging in alcohol, not with all the things he had in mind to do, but he’d allowed himself one—one lubricant to wet his whistle and ease him into the evening. He’d earned that much during his time inside—all those months sitting in a dingy cell with the lowest forms of pond life. He warranted one drink and all the dehumanizing things he was going to do to Hannah—just as soon as she was his again.

His gaze flitted back to her, his heart hammering faster as she caught her lip between her white teeth. One thing was for sure… her teeth looked better than he remembered. Maybe she’d had them seen to in his absence?

I doubt it . He gripped his glass tighter. We put her off dentists for life.

“Shame.” He lifted the glass to his face, allowing it to hover in front of his lips as he eyed her. “She has such a pretty mouth, too.”

She was on her phone again, her brows knitting as her focus flitted from the device to the door for at least the hundredth time since she’d arrived.

“He’s not coming, darling.” Draining the remainder of his glass, Mark watched as she called over the waitress. “Time to give up on Saul.”

Adrenaline flooded his system as she explained her predicament. Presumably, she’d been stood up and wanted to pay for her glass of wine before leaving. Her dejected expression was scintillating, but it was nothing compared to the way she’d look as soon as he had her where he wanted her. He’d seen all of her hot, imploring looks before, and he couldn’t wait to relive them all over again.

Fishing his wallet from the pocket not housing the syringe, he slid out a note that more than paid for his drink and waved it at the nearby server. The blonde, who turned to acknowledge him with a feigned smile, might have been tempting had he not known a better, kinkier proposition awaited him.

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” She eyed his empty glass hopefully, no doubt counting on a larger tip if he said yes.

“No.” He pushed his wallet away, his attention reflexively returning to Hannah, who seemed to be counting money from her purse to cover the cost of her glass of wine. “Just this, please. Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The blonde’s brow rose as she took the note from him, though whether it was surprise or disappointment at his generosity, he couldn’t say.

She’d never know how long it had taken him to save for the events he planned for that night. How many long nights he’d spent plotting. Her only part in his perversity was to serve him, then forget him the moment he walked out of the door.

He watched Hannah rise from her seat and yank at the short skirt she’d selected. The chosen attire suggested she definitely wanted to make an impression on Saul, and Mark was pleased to report it had worked. Even crawling in her cage hadn’t looked so good on little Hannah Bowman.

Grabbing her purse, she headed for the exit without so much as a glance back.

So far, so good.

As the door swung closed behind her, he rose to his full height and followed, his long strides taking him to the restaurant’s entrance within a few seconds. Pulling back the door, he paused and stared into the evening air, pleased to see she wasn’t still lurking there. Her spinning around to see him in such a public place would have required a dramatic pivot to his plan he hadn’t accounted for.

Fortunately, as it was, she wasn’t there. His pulse was assuaged by the reprieve. Instead, he was met by the cold, dark street, the front of the place illuminated by the only streetlight in the immediate area.

Where are you, Hannah?

Straining his senses, he stepped over the threshold onto the concrete, but he didn’t have to wait long to discover where his target was hiding. Her voice floated to the doorway from the side of the building.

“…easier if I just get an Uber.” Hannah sniffed. “You were right, Shannon. It’s too soon. I’m not ready for this shit.”

Stepping out of the doorway, he rounded the corner in the direction of her voice, hesitating as he peered quickly around the wall. There, standing on the quiet road, was his captive. Visibly distraught, she was on the phone again and apparently so distracted with heartache, she didn’t notice his presence.

“Thanks.” Hannah shook her head. “But I should have known better.”

Mark glanced around briefly, taking stock of who was around. A couple who looked dangerously close to one another had just left the restaurant, but they’d headed off toward the busier main road. Aside from them, there were only two empty cars, both parked at the front of the building.

The gods, it seemed, were smiling on him. Consumed by her sorrow, Hannah had headed in the quieter direction to talk to her friend. That meant two helpful things. First, she’d taken herself closer to the place he’d parked his car at the far end of the dark alley that ran parallel to the eatery he’d chosen, and even more pleasingly, there was absolutely no one in the vicinity to save her.

“No, really.” She walked farther down the narrowing road as her conversation continued.

He couldn’t believe how nonchalant she was being about her personal safety. Hadn’t the things she’d experienced taught her anything? Evidently, her distress was great enough to have distracted her.

“It’s just my luck.” Hannah gulped back whatever emotion she was feeling for Saul, completely oblivious to the real threat only meters from where she stood.

Buoyed by the net that appeared to be closing around his victim and not wanting to push his luck, he stepped back and pressed himself against the wall beside the restaurant’s entrance. Let her wander into the dark. She was making it easy for him.

“Everything all right, mate?” A nosey bugger who’d just left the place turned to stare at him.

“All good.” Mark threw him a grin but ensured his voice remained low. It was normal for Hannah to hear other voices outside the restaurant, but he didn’t want any chance that she recognized whose voice she was hearing. “I just needed a piss before my taxi arrived.”

“Right.” The annoying guy chuckled. “You might have better luck up by the main road. Cabs rarely come down as far as this.”

“Got it.” Mark was counting on it. “I’m just waiting for my girl, and I’ll join you up there.”

“Have a good night.” The idiot lit a cigarette as he strode away.

Mark watched as his silhouette shrank, his attention returning to the reason he was there. Edging back around the wall, he was ecstatic to see she’d walked even closer to where his car was parked.

Time seemed to slow as he edged closer. Conscious of the sound of his every step on the concrete, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the syringe. He might not be in dentistry anymore, but he still had friends in the medical profession. Some even who were sympathetic to his plight and favored his sexual proclivities. Those pals had armed him with enough sedative to knock the pretty little Hannah out for a few hours. That was all he’d need.

“It’s fine.”

He could still hear her conversation as he approached in the shadows.

“I can book a car while you wait on the line with me, and anyway, it’s not like I’m in trouble.” She snorted. “Apparently, even men who pretend to like me can’t be bothered to show up.”

The suffocating pause that followed stretched out around him as Hannah’s friend replied. With one ear pressed to the device, her concentration was focused on the phone, but she might still hear him approach, turning too soon and ruining his plan.

Just another meter…

He held his breath as he neared, aware that every second was pivotal, each one potentially precarious.

Pressed against the wall with the syringe raised, he was less than a foot from her when she held the device aloft and logged into her Uber app. Even in the half-light of her phone, she was a vision, her pale skin begging to be punctured.

In the end, it was over in a heartbeat. One long stride saw his hand close around her mouth, muffling her cry as the fancy-looking phone smashed to the ground below. He pulled her body against his, holding her there for one blissful second before he plunged the needle into the side of her neck.

By the time he’d glanced around to check they were still alone, she was already wobbly on her feet, her body collapsing into his waiting arms as though they’d never been parted.