In Death 38 - Thankless in Death by J. D. Robb

propped her up, plumping the pillows behind her before wrapping two more lengths of cord over her torso, around and under the bed. That he secured with a clip lock so it held nice and snug.
    “That’ll keep you where I want you.”
    Once again reaching into his bag, he pulled out a capsule of Wake-Up, broke it under her nose.
    He watched her eyes flutter, her head turn side to side. A muffled moan sounded against the tape as she struggled to focus.
    He straddled her, punched her hard in the belly. “Hi, Lori!”
    And he saw it—what he hadn’t seen with his parents. Not just the shock, not just the pain.
    Fear.
    It filled him with something he’d never fully experienced. It filled him with joy.
    He grinned, riding on that joy as she squirmed, as her eyes darted all over the crappy space in her crappy apartment, as choked sounds pushed against the tape.
    “Don’t worry. I’m not going to rape you. Not that it’s rape seeing as how you put out for me plenty. But you just don’t do it for me. Look at this, you’re naked, helpless, and I don’t even have wood. So just put that out of your mind.”
    He gave her nipple a hard twist, laughing when she bucked under him. “I bet I could make you wet, though—if I were interested. The fact is, fucking you the last few weeks we were together? It was like some chore to cross off my list. Here’s a tip. If you want a guy to get you off, don’t bitch at him all damn night first, don’t turn on the fake tears—yeah, like you’re doing now. And
don’t
, for fuck’s sake, tell him what the hell to
do
! You’re not my mother, bitch, and since you heard what happened to her, you should be grateful.”
    He climbed off, stood studying her, and couldn’t think of a single reason she’d ever appealed to him.
    “I’ve got some things to say, and for once you’re going to shut the hell up and
listen
. Got that, bitch?”
    He didn’t just feel happy, he realized. He felt strong. He felt important.
    “You thought you could dump me, show me the door because I had a little bad luck? Bitching and whining about yourself when I was the one having some trouble. You think you can humiliate me that way? It’s always about you. You selfish bitch. And acting like I’d committed a crime because I gave you a couple taps. You deserved that, and more. Now look at you. This is how they’ll find you, naked, helpless,
humiliated
. How does it feel?”
    Fat tears rolled down her face, added to his sense of joy.
    He kicked at her shopping bags. “You’re not the only one who went shopping today. Look what I got.” He took a folding knife out of his pocket. “You just push this button, and blam!” A curved, serrated blade, just under the legal limit, whipped out. And he grinned when her eyes bulged, when her body twisted, when the screams muffled to whines against the blocking tape.
    “Don’t worry, it’s not for you. I used a kitchen knife on Ma, and it slid right into her, like into a pillow. Made a hell of a mess though before I was done. I’m not getting your pussy blood all over my new clothes. Nice threads, huh?”
    He did a little turn. “I messed up two sets of my old stuff, first with the old woman, and then with the old man. I used my old baseball bat on him, and, man, did blood and brains fly!”
    Laughing, he pushed the mechanism on the knife again. “You sent me back to hell. Do you know what it’s like to live with those two? Always complaining, always telling me what to do, acting like they were in charge. Who’s in charge now?”
    Blood stained the cords on her wrists as she struggled against them. A bonus, he thought, and slipped the knife back in his pocket.
    “So what did you buy today?” Crouching, he dumped the contents of her shopping bags on the floor, and as an afterthought, took the knife out again, dragged the blade through the scattered clothes. Her sobs choked against the tape.
    “Slut shoes, too? Let’s have a look.” He straightened, shoved