Untitled Excerpt

Fucking whore!

Fucking whore!

The dark clad man paced the small confines of his apartment. All around him were pictures of the cause of his pain. His agony.
Carmen.

Bitch.

Whore.

Most of the shots were candid. Indeed she had been unaware that he was there, photographing her. Keeping tabs on her.

How dare she talk to me like that? Her! A whore who screwed everything in her path. Like a dog. One word and she spread her legs from anyone who
asked. Like that Todd, guy. How dare she go home with him? Him? A man so unworthy of her.

Well, he’d taken care of that. He’d made sure that Todd was sorry that he’s even dared to touch her.

But it was an empty high. It wasn’t Todd’s fault. Not really. He was snared by her just like a fly was helpless to resist the lure of a black widow’s web. Still, he needed to pay for daring to put his hands on her. He could still remember the feeling of the knife in his hands, the slick feel of the blood on his skin as it sprayed over him. Like a baptism. He’d been renewed.

While Todd hadn’t been his first kill. It was the first time he’d attempted it with a knife. It had slid into Todd’s flesh as easily as a knife through warm butter. Or like sliding deep into the warm body of a willing woman.

He’d been there. The night she’d taken Todd home. It was the first time she’d done that in a long time. She’d been celebrating. Getting drunk and flaunting her body on the dance floor. A siren’s call that Todd had been unfortunate enough to answer.

He had followed them back to Todd’s place. He’d watched through the blinds from across the street as she and Todd made love. No. Not love. Fucked.
They had fucked like animals. Like animals in heat.

The thought was enough to cause his cock to twitch. He ignored it. That’s what she wanted. She wanted him to think about her and rub his cock. She wished that he would pleasure himself. In his mind’s eye, he imagined her across the room. Her curly ebony hair flared out on the pillow. Her caramel skin glowing against the red satin sheets.

“Come on, baby,” fantasy Carmen pleaded, running her hands down her naked body, stopping on her breasts to pinch her nipples. “Let me see that big, hard dick.”

“Whore,” he hissed, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side.
Behind his zipper, his penis twitched and grew longer, more demanding. He would not give her the satisfaction.

Fantasy Carmen pouted. “You know what to do. You know what I like.”

“Fucking bitch,” he spat, his fingers coming up to the button at his fly.
Unconsciously, they made quick work of his zipper until he sprung free. “Evil slut. Is this what you want?” The man grabbed his cock in his hand and began to pull.

Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. She did this to him. She was Jezebel. She was Circes, leading mean to their doom. He was a good man. But that didn’t matter to her. She cared only to spread her wickedness to decent men. Men like him.

Tears fell harder as he sped up the motion of his hand.

“Yes, yes,” fantasy Carmen moaned. Her hands left her breasts running along her flat stomach.

He watched with hungry eyes as her thighs parted, revealing her mound. In his mind, she was completely shaved, just as he remembered. He watched as milky fluid

She was hot for it, for him. She was begging for her just like the dog that she was.

“Cunt.” His hands moved over the length of him, faster, pulling harder until the point of pain.

Fantasy Carmen laughed. “You’re pathetic. What kind of man are you? You couldn’t satisfy me. That’s why I left. You and your tiny pena.”

The man’s tears fell harder. “No, no,” he sobbed, never breaking the rhythm of his hand.

Fantasy Carmen sat up in bed, her normally languid brown eyes small and mean. “You wish you were man enough to handle me.”

Despite himself, Carmen’s words only added to his arousal. He knew he was sick. But she did this. She made him this way.

“Go on. Play with your puny, pena. I’m surprised that you could even find it. I know that I couldn’t.” Carmen’s eyes laughed at him.

“Shut up. Shut up,” he shouted hoarsely even as he reached the breaking point. He threw his head back as thick wave of desire and shame washed through him, a tidal force that almost brought him to his knees.

When he opened his eyes, she was gone. She was always gone. She and her taunting eyes. Fucking bitch.

Fucking cunt!

He pulled up his pants and ran over to the wall, began tearing down the pictures that hung there. He looked at the photos of Carmen. Carmen smiling. Carmen laughing.

Soon, he thought.

She wouldn’t be able to forget him. Not again. He would make sure about that.

“So, Dr. Santiago, I saw you talking to Dr. Mitchell.”

Carmen looked up from reading Dr. Gower’s preop orders for their next patient. Carmen was trying to figure out a way to wrangle her way assisting. She had spent the rest of her morning performing scut work, chasing down labs, finding x-rays, and generally doing those things that were delegated to med students but Gower had a sudden belief should be given to Carmen. Which she accepted with a smile on her face. It wasn’t the first time she’d been made to eat shit.

This time, however, she was relatively certain that she wasn’t going to run into
Yummy. After their encounter at lunch and the shitty way that she’d treated him, she would be surprised if he spoke to her again. Which was fine with her, she assured herself.

The mindless scut work had also enabled her to forget about the phone call she’d gotten. Even though it was twice in the space of two days, she was convinced that either someone was playing a stupid prank or that they had the wrong number.

Looking up, she saw the RN who was the day ward supervisor. Molly. She was a cute curly-haired redhead who gave Carmen a run for the money in the bust department. She was also happily married, had three kids, and was the biggest gossip in the entire hospital. After working here for almost 20 years,
she knew everything and everyone.

“Yeah?” Carmen hated her hostile tone.

Molly smiled mischievously. “So? He’s only the most eligible doctor in the hospital. Every single nurse under the age of forty, and some married ones too, have been trying to get his attention. No luck. It’s so sad about his wife, though.”

“His wife?” Acrid anger burned deep within Carmen’s stomach. The bastard was married.

“Oh, yeah,” Molly continued, unaware of the daggers that were flaring from
Carmen’s eyes. “She was so young when she died. Only twenty-nine. They’d only been married for a couple years. Although, I tell you what, if I were married to a doctor I would’ve given up my career like that.” She said with a snap of her fingers. “Especially if I did what she did. I can’t imagine having to go into people’s houses and removing kids. I don’t envy that job.”

That’s it! Carmen knew now why that name was niggling at the back of her mind like a persistent puppy. Dr. Mitchell. His wife Julie was a social worker who’d been killed during a home visit that had turned into a shootout. It happened almost ten years ago, during Carmen’s freshman year in college. She vaguely remembered the grainy pictures of a man torn apart by grief at the loss of his young wife.

Carmen felt shamed by her irrational jealousy. From what she remembered about Candace Mitchell, she was a beautiful woman. Very blonde. Very pretty in a wholesome kind of way. The pictures that she’d seen of them together had reminded Carmen of the typical cheerleader who married the captain of the football team.

“I don’t remember him when I was doing my rotations in med school,” she mused out loud.

“Oh, you wouldn’t have,” Molly answered. “He took a sabbatical a couple
years ago to start that clinic for victims of domestic violence and their families. He only came back a few months ago when they offered him Chief of Medicine.”

Carmen groaned inwardly. Great. Not only had she pissed off a senior staff member, but the Chief of Medicine no less. She was sure that he spoke with Dr. Crosby, the Chief of Surgery. One misplaced word could kill Carmen’s
career before it had really started.

Well, when you fuck up, you do it big, Santiago.

“Anyway, you two looked awfully cozy when I saw you. What were you talking about?”

Carmen knew Molly’s type. One word to her and she would have Carmen and Greg screwing in the bathroom. “Uh, we share a patient.” It was the truth.

Mostly.

Molly’s face fell. “Oh. That’s it?”

“That’s it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run down to pick up some labs. See you later, Molly.”

Molly eyed her skeptically. “You, too, Dr. Santiago.”

Carmen turned and made her way down the hallway, her mind still on what Molly had said.

When Carmen left the hospital that night, she was exhausted. Like she’d been run over by a bus. Although she hadn’t been able to get in on a surgery, she’d done more than her share. Carmen’s steps as she made her way to her car dragged, as if she were walking through quicksand. She was so exhausted that it took a few minutes for the other steps to filter through her mind. She paused. The steps paused. Carmen quirked her head, her ears strained to detect any sound. There was none. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Hello?” she called, her voice shaky. Nothing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of dread, Carmen continued walking. For several seconds, she heard nothing. Then there the subtle scrape of rubber on concrete.

Carmen whirled around. “Who is it?”

She expected no answer and wasn’t disappointed. “Listen, fuckface, I’ve got mace and steel-toed boots. You better back off if you want to keep your balls.”
True to her word, Carmen rummaged through her purse until her hands came upon a small, black plastic container. She pulled it out and deactivated the safety.

“Do you hear me?” she yelled.

More silence.

This time, Carmen wasn’t taking any chances. She booked it. By the time she reached her car, her breath came is raspy shudders so loud that she couldn’t hear anything over it.

It took her two times before she was able to find the lock with her key. Her hands were shaking so badly she was terrified that she was going to drop them on the ground.

When she felt the hand on her shoulder, she couldn’t help it. She screamed. She swiveled around so quickly that the man standing behind her had to take a step back.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s only me.”

It took a few seconds for Greg’s voice to register. When it did, Carmen felt her knees give out. She had to catch herself before she fell down. She stayed like that for a while, hands braced against her knees, face pointed down. She concentrated on bring her breathing under control. Calm again, the fear receded and was replaced by acrid anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Greg stared at her as though she had grown a second head. “With me?
You’re the one who’s screaming bloody murder.”

Carmen’s face flared with heat. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you decide to accost women in parking garages. Asshole.”

Greg has the decency to look sheepish. “You’re right. I apologize. I wasn’t thinking. I guess I assumed that you had heard me coming.”

“That’s what you get for thinking.” Suddenly, a nasty thought came into
Carmen’s mind. “How long were you following me?”

She watched him blink in shock. “What are you talking about? I didn’t follow you.”

Carmen wasn’t sure that she believed him. “So you just happened to be leaving? At the exact same time I was?”

“It does happen. What’s up with you?”

“You didn’t see anyone?”

“No one. Why? Was someone following you?”

Carmen saw the change come over him immediately. Like a switch had been flipped. His easygoing posture stiffened and his eyes took on a sharp focus as he scanned the area around them. “Where was he? What did he look like?”

Carmen cursed herself for saying anything. “It was nothing. Probably just my overactive imagination.”

She saw the speculation and disbelief enter is midnight eyes. “Are you sure? After that phone call today…”

Carmen stiffened. “That phone call was a wrong number. And probably the reason that my mind is playing tricks on me.”

* * *

Greg considered the pugnacious jut of her chin and knew that there was little that he could do now. Little that she would let him do. “Well, if you want, I can ask the security guard to walk you to your car.”

He knew right away that it was the wrong thing to say. Greg didn’t know that it was possible to become any more rigid, but she went straight as an aluminum bat.

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much, Dr. Mitchell.” His name was spat at him with enough force to push nails through redwood.

“I’m not saying you can’t. Don’t be an idiot. You said yourself that a woman alone at night needs to take some precautions.”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

Greg groaned. He wasn’t sure that if he wanted to kiss her or shake her. He did know that either choice was going to lead to her knee in his balls. He looked up to the long fluorescent light bulbs that ran the length of the ceiling and prayed for patience. None came.

Greg ran an impatient hand through his head, causing parts of it to stand on end. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m calling you. Stupid and so fucking hard headed that even if someone where to take a baseball bat to it, I have every confidence that the bat would break.”

Carmen’s lips twitched. She couldn’t help it. He looked too fucking adorable.

“What?” he demanded. “Why are you smiling? I just insulted you.”

Carmen snorted. “That’s not an insult. Do you think you’re the first person to call me hard headed?”

“No. And I probably won’t be the last.”

“You’re right about that. And you’re right about the escort. I usually do have one but with the sun setting so much earlier, I forgot.”

Greg shook his head in disgust. She was not short of a complete enigma. “I don’t get you. I’m nice to you, you treat me like dog shit. I insult you, and you laugh.”

“What can I say? I’m a complicated gal.”

It was Greg’s turn to smile. “That you are.”

“Um, I have to go.”

“Hot date?” Greg tried to ignore the irrational twist of jealousy that clenched his heart.

“Are you kidding? I’m a surgical intern. I have no life. Just a warm bed and a copy of Surgeon Today. I need to get some rest. I’m on night call tomorrow.”

Greg’s brows shot up. “That surprises me. I expected…”

“What? That I was some party girl out there shaking her culo every night?”

The words were harsh but softened by the smile that spread across her face.

Actually, that was exactly what he’s been thinking. “Sorry. I shouldn’t judge.”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Carmen muttered beneath her breath. Greg couldn’t understand exactly what she said but he thought it sounded like pendejo. He wasn’t familiar with Spanish but he was sure that she’d just called him a bastard.

“You know, when you get angry, your accent really comes out.”

He knew instantly that that was the wrong thing to say. Carmen’s half-smile faded and her face once again settled into its normal severe lines.

“Thanks.”

“I know I risk a kick in the nuts but do you mind if I ask where you’re from?”

“Why? Looking for a Green Card?”

“No, just curious.”

At fist, he was sure that she wasn’t going to tell him. “Puerto Rico.”

“Really? I went there on my honeymoon.” Greg groaned. It was never sexy to mention your ex. Even less sexy to discuss your honeymoon with your dead wife.

“Really? Good for you. I hope you enjoyed El Yunque and were lulled to
sleep each night by the melodic sounds of the coqui.” Sarcasm coated dripped icily from her lips.

Huh. This was different. Most Puerto Ricans that he knew had an almost perfect devotion to their country. This woman sounded as though she would gladly let it fall back into the ocean.

“Okay, this has been fun. I mean it. Next time you want to scare the living shit out of someone, please find some other insane partner. Later, Mitchell.”

Carmen turned to get into her car. She was stopped once again by the hand on her arm. This time her accelerated heart rate had nothing to do with fear.
She ignored the shiver of desire that wiggled down her arm and straight to the place between her thighs.

“What?” she demanded, her voice harsh with suppressed lust.

“Well, seeing as how I almost made you crap your pants, don’t you think that you could at least tell me your first name?”

“Carmen. But you can still call me Dr. Santiago.”

Carmen ducked into the car and slammed the door so quickly that Greg had to jump out of the way or else break a few fingers.

Through the red haze of her tail lights, Carmen saw Greg still standing where she left him, watching her car as it disappeared from sight.