Corps Security: Cooper Part 18

We've only been on the road for a minute at the most when I hear another voice, this one making a cold sweat break out across my skin. I can't make out her words, but I would know that f.u.c.king nasally whine anywhere.

Sarah. f.u.c.king. Jane.

Chapter 32 Sarah Jane.

It's just a matter of time now. Only time. Time is all I have, and I don't mind waiting just a little longer. I've let him have his fun.

Eight long years of fun.

I've been watching. I'm always watching.

He's never had anyone like this woman. This pregnant woman. I know my Asher would never give another woman MY baby.

I've been planning it for years. Our baby will be so beautiful. Long, silky, blonde hair just like her daddy. The prettiest eyes that you've ever seen. So blue that they looked like the clearest summer day's sky. And her lips would be full, just like her daddy, Asher.

Yes. It has to be a mistake, because MY Asher would never let MY baby grow in that wh.o.r.e's body!

I watched her walk out just this morning, her laughter making me want to slice her throat right there in front of her tall friend and the old, fat doorman.

She's a wh.o.r.e. A wh.o.r.e that has had her filthy hands on MY Asher.

My head feels tight again. The voices are back. They keep telling me what needs to happen next. I need to make her pay. She needs to understand that she will never take MY man and MY baby.

After grabbing my purse, I press the b.u.t.ton for the lower garage, where all the tenants park their vehicles. I know which one belongs to that wh.o.r.e. I've run my fingers all over it just imagining what it would feel like if it were her skin. So fragile when using the right tools.

I pull the hammer out of my large bag, walking around the car a few times before deciding where to start. I slam my weapon against the headlights. Then the taillights. I use all my strength to smash it against every inch of the car's metal. When I step back to admire my art, my chest moves fast as sweat coats my skin.

I can't wait until I can do the same thing to that wh.o.r.e's body.

Before I leave, I grab the can out of my bag, walk over to her car, and lean over carefully. I wouldn't want to cut my body. Asher loves my body the way it looks, and I've worked hard to keep it slim, tight, and tan. Shaking the can a few times, I bring it closer to my destroyed carnage of that wh.o.r.e's car, taking my time to make sure every letter is perfect.

I toss the can on the ground when I'm done. I don't need it anymore. The only thing I need now is that wh.o.r.e and my hammer.

I press the b.u.t.ton I need before reaching into my bag and grabbing my 'candies,' opening the bottle, and taking two for good measure. I need to remember to get more. I hate the way I feel when I'm not feeling my 'candies.'

I make quick work of my next duty. I need to make sure that Asher has a clear path to finally come and take me in his arms. He's going to be so happy to see me-I just know it. He's been waiting so patiently for me to come and take him back.

It doesn't take much for me to sneak up on the old coot that sits in his office all day, only coming out occasionally to say hi to the other idiots that walk in and out of his lobby.

He's watching an old Friends rerun when I peek in the cracked doorway. I can see his master keys hanging from his belt. This would be so much easier if he were sleeping, but oh well-the show must go on.

I use the handle of my hammer and crack it against his temple. He goes down like the dead weight he is, and I don't waste a second grabbing the keys.

I know exactly where I need to go now.

I've been watching. I'm always watching.

Always watching.

Until now.

Chapter 33 Chelcie.

Thirty Minutes Earlier "I had fun today," I tell Dee while she pulls out of the parking lot, headed back to the apartment. "But I'm exhausted."

"You're always exhausted. Hey, how do you have s.e.x with that big old belly in the way?"

"Are you serious?" I chuckle.

"Well, yeah. Does it get in the way? Or does Asher like, I don't know, bang into it? Oh my G.o.d! Does his d.i.c.k hit the baby?"

I look over at her, my mouth agape, trying to figure out if she's joking with me right now.

She looks over, rolls her eyes, and stresses, "I'm not pulling your leg, Chelcie! I'm serious right now. I need to know these things. If Beck and I decide to have kids, I don't think I could give up s.e.x. There's no d.a.m.n way. But I don't want my kid to come out with a cheese head because his daddy's ding dong kept playing Whac-A-Mole."

I burst out laughing, complete with snorting and almost choking on my spit. "Holy s.h.i.t, Dee. How can you be so clueless about something that is so natural for a woman's body? No, there is no chance that the baby will have a...how did you put it? Oh, a cheese head." I snort again. "s.e.x isn't off-limits, but now that I've gotten bigger, we have to get more creative. I prefer doggie style. Just makes it easier with all of the pressure my body has. No need to worry, Dee. You won't have to give up s.e.x when you get pregnant."

She is shaking her head rapidly, looking pleased with this news.

Wait a minute...

"Dee?" I question.

"Hmm," she responds, lost in thought.

"Are you pregnant?" I hope she is. I know that she had the worst parents in the world, but she and Beck would make amazing parents.

"What? Oh, no. Well, I don't think so at least."

Well, d.a.m.n.

"Do you want to be?" I sigh.

"I've just been thinking about it a lot lately. Between you, Izzy being pregnant again, Melissa with the twins all tiny and cute, it's just been on my mind more than normal. I worried when they got older and weren't all adorable babies anymore that they would be gross, but Cohen and Nate are two cool kids, so I think I'm open to it now."

"That's good, Dee. If you want to talk about it, just let me know. Maybe sit down with Beck and see where he stands with it? Maybe he wants to wait a little while. I mean, don't you want to get married first?"

Some people might be bothered by the fact that I'm not married and pregnant, but then again, they would probably drop dead if they knew I was knocked up with my fiance's brother's baby. To each their own-normal is boring anyways.

"Of course I do. We're setting a date soon. Now that things have settled down, I think it's time for me to make an honest man out of him."

We laugh together and enjoy the rest of the car ride, talking about how long we think the latest Kardashian marriage will last and the newest purses we saw on our favorite site. When she pulls up to the front of my building, we make plans for dinner next week. I wave her off and walk into the building.

Going to wave to Joe, I frown when I notice that he isn't standing in his normal spot. d.a.m.n, this place looks weird without him standing there smiling at me. Oh well. He must have gotten called away.

I was halfway across the lobby when I remembered that I left my laptop in my car yesterday when I went to work at Starbucks. I laugh to myself when I recall Asher picking on me because I went into a coffee shop to work when I can't even drink it. Hey, what can I say? I love the smell and it's one of the best places to people-watch.

I bypa.s.s the b.u.t.ton to my floor and press the one that will take me under the building to where our parking garage is located. Digging in my bag as I walk towards my car does nothing to help me find my keys. I grab my phone and stick it in my back pocket before starting my search up again.

Feeling the cold metal, I close my hands around them and go to pull them out. When I lift my head, I freeze at what I see.

My car is demolished. A total mess of what once was perfect. There isn't an inch of my car that isn't covered in scratches, dings, and dents-and red...paint?

My mind is telling me that there's no way I'm seeing this right. Maybe I'm on some sick version of Punk'd.

Dead center of what used to be my hood is five perfectly sprayed letters.

Wh.o.r.e.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and I try to push down the feeling of helplessness as I turn and run as best as I can back to the elevator car. I jam my finger over and over on the 'door close' b.u.t.ton. I pray that whoever did that to my car isn't about to slam their hand between the doors, cutting off my escape.

When the doors finally close, I rub my hands over Zac's baby b.u.mp and will myself to calm down. I can't be getting this upset. I'm sure whoever did this is long gone. I bet they even got the wrong car. It was probably meant to be Wendy Westlake's car and they got mine instead. Our cars are almost identical. She has the door across from our apartment and I swear it's open later than Taco Bell. Everyone knows they stay open late.

My body is still shaking and I can't seem to calm down. When the car dings on my floor, I make my way to our door with wooden legs. I just need to get inside and call Asher. He'll know what to do.

My hands are shaking so badly that I drop my keys twice. Bending over is a blast when you've got a large beach ball in your front. I feel my jeans get tight across my a.s.s, and I groan when I hear my phone start making noises like the touchscreen has been activated. I swear I b.u.t.t-dial more people that way.

I throw the door open and rush in, pressing myself against the door and letting out the breath I was holding. Now that I'm safe in my apartment, I allow my body to really start feeling the fear of seeing my car smashed and beaten. Vandalized with so much brutal force.

I go to grab my cell from my pocket but stop dead when I see her.

A scream escapes my lips and I feel my heart drop. Ice-cold terror is picking up speed inside my body, making me feel faint and powerless.

She's standing in the middle of my living room with a hammer swinging in one hand, the other holding one of Zac's stuffed animals.

I shift my weight, wondering if I could reach the doork.n.o.b and get out before she could reach me. My plans are ruined when she sees my intent and growls, "Don't f.u.c.king move, wh.o.r.e."

I don't know who this woman is, but if she thinks she's going to do something to harm my life, my baby, then she's got another thing coming. I straighten my shoulders and vow silently to Zac that Mommy will protect him.

She takes a menacing step towards me, and I pray for a miracle.

Chapter 34 Chelcie.

"What do you want?" I'm proud of myself for keeping my voice steady, for not letting her see the fear that is taking over my system.

"You really are a stupid wh.o.r.e, aren't you?" Her nasally voice sounds so flat, almost dead, and when it fills my ears, it just adds to the terror.

"If it's money you want-here. Take my purse," I plead. "We don't have any jewelry or valuables here."

Her eyes flash to my left hand and I could curse my beautiful diamond.

"Oh, I beg to differ, wh.o.r.e. You have everything of value to me. Let me tell you a story, hmm?" She walks closer to me and I stand my ground, refusing to give her the benefit of my cowering. "Get your fat a.s.s in there and sit the f.u.c.k down," she hisses, grabbing my hair and bringing the wooden end of the hammer up to slam against my cheekbone. The longer end clips the top of my eye and it causes stars to immediately dance in front of me.

Okay, that hurt.

Tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel something warm running down my cheek. When I don't move quickly enough, she curls her fist tighter and forces me to the ground in the middle of the living room. I twist and steady myself so I don't fall on my stomach. I can feel Zac kicking and rolling, and I close my eyes in relief that he's okay. She grabs some duct tape out of her bag and walks behind me to bind my wrists painfully together. She throws the tape off to the side and I hear it crash into something, sending it shattering against the hardwood. I don't dare take my eyes off of her though. I need to keep my wits about me if I'm going to get us out of this alive.

"Time for your goodnight story, little wh.o.r.e. There once was a beautiful woman. She had the most expensive clothes, all the money she could ever want, and a body every woman around would die for... And she had the most handsome prince in all the land. That prince was perfect, you see, and he wanted to give the princess everything she ever wanted. What she wanted was to rule her kingdom. Now I'll skip all of the boring parts, but her prince has been lost. You see, he wasn't lost to the princess. She always knew where to find her prince. He needed some time to remember how much he craves his princess. So she has waited patiently."

She takes a break from her twisted tale. She just stares at me with this dazed and confused look on her face. I swear she can't even focus. Her eyes keep getting larger and then squinting.

"I've been watching. I'm always watching," she mumbles.

I watch in shocked horror as she spins the hammer even faster. Her confusion to the reality around her is making her one deadly, hammer-wielding lunatic.

"Who are you?" I implore.

My head snaps back when she cracks me again with the wooden handle. I lock my body and only sway slightly. G.o.dd.a.m.n, that one hurt worse.

"Who am I?" she screeches, the sound making my eardrums protest. "Who am I? I am Sarah Jane Clarkston, and I'm here to finally take my prince back. And to remove MY baby from your wh.o.r.e body before you taint her!"

I watch in horror as she starts jamming the blunt end of the hammer into one of her eyes, mumbling over and over, "I've been watching. I'm always watching." She digs at her hair, pulling out chunks at a time and throwing them on the floor. My mouth drops when she takes her blunt nails and claws them down her face before she pushes her arm out wide-then slams her fist into her face.

What in the f.u.c.king h.e.l.l?

While she's busy coming completely f.u.c.king unhinged, I try my hardest to get the tape off. I realize quickly enough that there's no use. She has it so tight that I'm already starting to lose feeling in my fingers.

She stops her abuse to her face and starts crawling around on the floor. She's still mumbling under her breath. "I've been watching. I'm always watching."

I take advantage of her distraction and start looking around for something to use, something that can free my hands.

I spot one of my decorative vases that must have been what took the hit when crazy pants over there tossed the tape. I look around, seeing if any of the broken pieces made it my way.

There! About two feet from my leg is a piece that will be perfect. Now I just need to get to it. Checking to see how my new friend is, I notice that she's now curled up next to my couch, rocking and slamming her fist against her head. Her other hand still holds the hammer tight, banging it over and over against the floor.

I move slowly, using my legs to inch closer and closer, only moving small inches at a time. I get where I can reach it as I sit on my a.s.s, so I carefully and quietly as possible bring one of my legs out from under me, shifting on my a.s.s to get my other leg out. My whole body is burning from the use of muscles I haven't used in months.

When I get settled on my a.s.s, I look over to make sure, once again, that she isn't paying me any attention. My fingers reach out blindly, pushing the piece of gla.s.s a few times as I fumble around. I finally get my fingers around the sharp shard and begin the process of moving back onto my knees. I don't want her to know that I've moved, but more importantly, I don't want her to have any more of a height advantage if she comes to stand over me again. At least up on my knees, I have something going for me.

Once back on my knees, I make the painful shift back over to my original position. The whole time, I busy myself with moving the gla.s.s back and forth against my bindings. I want to scream in pain each time the sharp ends jam into my skin. Either my wrists or my fingers-h.e.l.l, maybe both-are cut so badly that I'm struggling to hold on to the gla.s.s in my hands.