Unfinished Business

By S C Cunningham

"Blown away to the point of speechless, shocking, vivid, bloody well written!" David is a deliciously cunning, charming, playful, deadly, bi-sexual-tour-de-force. But be warned, he has a death list, male or female, if you see him, run... fast!

When a victim stops running, stands still, and turns to face her would-be killer, hunter becomes prey, and opposites attract. Big mistake...(sigh!)

A raunchy, provocative, fun, thriller with 'Killing Eve' v 'Psycho' v '50 Shades' vibes. Buckle up, grab a glass of wine, close the bedroom door, and read alone!

CAUTION
Adult language

DAVID TRILOGY REVIEWS
“Writing doesn’t get much better than this.”

"I raise a glass; I'd love to meet anyone who writes like this."

"Blown away to the point of speechless, shocking, vivid, bloody well written!"

"I read in one sitting! It was BRILLIANT!"

“Boy, if anyone can write about sex this lady can!”

“It SIZZLES! An erotic, neurotic, sensual vision. Stunning.”

"Have to say the book is fabulous, genuinely brilliant!"

"Her characters are sultry and as real as they can get.”

“It makes you shiver; it makes you laugh out loud.”

“My God you shocked my shoes off. Excellent work!"

“Gay or straight the characters are sexy.”

“A complete turn-on from start to finish.”

“The end twist is a complete surprise.”

“It intrigues you; it arouses you.”

"God, I loved your book!"

“Shocking, an eye-opener! I read the book in one sitting."

"You're a very brave lady Ms C, I love what you've done: you've somehow given us all the things we want to read about in one."

“I bought this book yesterday and have just finished it this morning. I couldn't put it down. BRILLIANT."

“A mind-bending instant classic. Be on the lookout for more from this immensely talented rising literary star.”

“I listened to the audio and loved it! It's sexy, highly amusing, and has the ability to draw you in. I enjoyed it so much I have bought four copies for my friends.”

"Couldn't put it down, a real page-turner. Nicely crafted, in a category all of its own. Would make a great film!”

"Bravo! Cunningham artfully weaves a compelling, delicious, salacious, novel that offers a new twist on the modern romance and the classic psychological thriller. A fabulous read!''

"Great fun. Excellent writing style. Been waiting for the trilogy to be complete for a long time, but it's worth the wait. Hopefully on TV one day."

ABOUT AUTHOR
Having worked in the worlds of sport, music, celebrity management, child charity, and crime (CID Crime Investigator, Major Crime Team Intel Analyst, Wanted & Absconder Unit), Cunningham creates psychological thrillers with a skilled mix of fuelled tension, dark humor, and pulsating passion, offering a fresh level of sincerity and authority, rare in fiction.

THE DAVID TRILOGY Standalone
The Penance List
Unfinished Business
For My Sins

N.B
Due to David's popularity, he has also joined the cast of The Fallen Angel Series by S C Cunningham

• Language: English
• Publisher: S C Cunningham
• Release date: Sep 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301477210

S C Cunningham

Attracting Hollywood attention, SCCunningham writes with a skilled mix of fueled tension, dark humor, and pulsating passion. Having worked in the industries she writes about, her books offer a fresh level of sincerity and authority, rare in fiction."Am lucky to have in your novel such an embarrassment of riches to work with." Danial Blake Smith, Film Producer. 'Evil's Match' in film development.​​​​​As a respite from crime, she writes inspiring children's books, helping our young learn important life messages through a fun-loving family of pets and their adventures. And a How-to Series; a writing guide, and an anti-anxiety well-being guide.BIO​​​​​​​An ex-model, British-born of Irish roots, she married a rock musician and has worked in music and film production, sports celebrity management, children's charity, and crime (CID, Crime Investigations, Wanted/Absconder Unit, Major Crime Team, Intelligence Analyst).SUPPORTED CAUSES​​​​​​​Veterans | Mental Health | Animals, Environment, & Child Protection |BOOKS​​​​​​5⭐ Steamy Psycho Thriller​​​​​​​THE DAVID TRILOGY (standalone)​​​​​​The Penance List​​​​​​Unfinished Business​​​​​​For My Sins"Writing doesn't get better than this...""Blown away to the point of speechless, shocking, vivid, bloody well written!""I read the book in one sitting.""I raise a glass, I'd love to meet anyone who writes like this.""Cunningham has done it again! What a fantastic writer."5⭐ Supernatural Rom Thriller​​​​​​​THE FALLEN ANGEL SERIES (standalone)​​​​​​​The DealKarmaThe Calling​​​​​​​Already Dead (tba)"Blissfully raw and absolutely perfect. 5⭐ for days.""Completely different from anything I have ever read." outstanding book.""It got me! Couldn't put it down and didn't want it to end!""Plots intertwine twist and turn, it's addictive."5⭐ Children's Teaching ToolsTHE GINORMOUS SERIES (3-12yrs)x 13 books in series"These books should be available in every home and school.""Cannot wait to share with my school class as part of PSHCE lessons.""A way for parents to educate their children on important topics in a way that children will listen.""WOW! I absolutely loved these books! What a great teaching tool. A fantastic series!"5⭐ How-to GuidesTHE HOW-TO SERIESWrite That BookFeel Good⭐REVIEWS - Write That Book"​​​​​​​A must-have guide for aspiring writers, new business, product launch, memoir, how-to skill, marketeer, advertiser, coach, or side-hustle start-up success​​​​​​​."“Cunningham provides a pep talk and call to action that will have you inspired and motivated to get writing! There is so much for writers to take away from this helpful and inspiring guide, and I cannot recommend it highly enough!”​​​​​​​​​"A crisp guide with easy-to-follow simple instructions for new writers to get started on their journey as an author. It helps to debunk worries and empower with feelings of self-accomplishment. A short, thorough, supportive, effective, well-written handbook, with plenty of advice, suggestions, and tools. I recommend reading in one sitting and then revising it again to make a list of action items to follow. For motivation, read it every few months to keep track of your progress and to give yourself a boost."⭐REVIEWS - Feel Good​​​​​​​“Such a sweet short book to help you when you most need it!”“As a person who struggles with depression and anxiety, this book felt like a gift.”“When I feel down or sad it’s difficult to grab a book, each page feels too long, but this one had short paragraphs with the main message and a sprinkle of positivity on each page.”“It includes the necessities, and what a person needs when going through a tough time. It talks about burnout, happiness, sadness, activities, and much more. It includes the importance of journaling, and arts and has different techniques on how to calm anxiety, and how to build patterns of happy thoughts.”“This is a KIT for helping yourself because no one can help you unless you want to get better!”​​​​​​​​​​​​​​WEBSITEhttp://www.sccunningham.com/​​​​​SOCIAL MEDIA LINKShttps://linktr.ee/AuthorSCCunningham​​​​​​AMAZONhttp://viewauthor.at/SCCunninghamDIGITAL STOREShttps://books2read.com/ap/xqDgw8/S-C-CunninghamMERCH​​​​​​​https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/GiNORMOUSLoVE

Book preview

Chapter One

Visiting Room, HM Belmarsh Prison, UK

He wanted her dead and she wanted him naked, in her bed.

Why? It was sick, irrational, and dangerous. She was a grown sensible woman, what the hell was she thinking, craving a man that had tried to kill her? It was fucked up.

The judge had acknowledged his schooldays were to blame, as a boy he’d had to deal with atrocious acts at the hands of his guardians, resulting in his actions as a man. She understood this and felt sorry for him, but his childhood had nothing to do with her, it was none of her damn business, why the hell should she have to suffer his wrath, be on his death list? Hadn’t he killed enough?

Noted, she could have handled it better, she should have taken his adolescent obsession seriously, talked to him, realised what was happening and stood up for him.

A mere child herself, but someone may have listened, there must have been bruises and marks on his body to prove it. The what ifs fuelled her guilt and anger, twenty years later the ripple effect of the abusers’ actions still caused pain.

Torn between fearing the man and sorrow for the boy, she’d spent the months since his arrest in emotional limbo. She wasn’t sure what’d happened in the three lost days of her kidnap, but the tables had turned, she now wanted him, missed him, and dreamed of him. She’d somehow become trapped in his warped obsessive world… had she been drugged? Brainwashed? Was she going mad?

She needed to face the bastard and stop his hold over her, take back control, build a normal relationship with a normal human being, and have a normal life; if such a thing existed… he’s just a man for chrissakes, get a grip!

Sitting uncomfortably in a hard bucket seat, she suddenly didn’t feel quite so brave. Anxiously crossing and uncrossing her legs, she picked at invisible dirt on her black suit, the one she saved for funerals and bank manager meetings… I can’t do this, I’m not ready, he’s not just a man, he’s David Howard, a fucked up psychotic killer, that I can’t resist, who wants me to pay for his fucked-up childhood.

A wave of clarity washed over her, she shook her head… this isn’t going to work, I’ve got to get out of here, ignore the letters, ignore the dreams, move out of the country, and forget him, seeing his face will only bring it all back... stronger, shit!

She spun round to tell her lawyer that she’d changed her mind, too late, a key turned noisily in its lock, the heavy door of the connecting room squealed open, her guards and chatty lawyer fell silent.

Unable to look, she kept eyes down, focusing on a loose thread in the hem of her skirt. David had arrived. Even through partitioned Perspex glass she felt his presence before seeing it, powerful, carnal menace…. fuck, here we go again.

Pulling at the thread, a row of stitches burst open, causing her hem to gape open… ok, deep breath, calm, don’t let him get to me., breathe.

In deafening silence, David’s towering frame filled the doorway. He was a perfect specimen, all Hollywood face, head high, chiselled jaw, strong neck, chest out, legs apart, muscled arms, broad shoulders, pumped torso, flat stomach.

He stood tall, was proud of his body and knew very well how to parade it. All eyes were on him, except hers.

Even with shackled wrists and shabby prison scrubs he oozed uber calm, cool magnetism, an exciting promise of imminent danger and mind-blowing sex.

He stood in the doorway, watching, his face void of expression, his shackles jangling. With predator senses scanning surroundings, he sniffed the room.

The pungent smell of onions and urine hung in the warm recycled air. His eyes flashed to the red flickering lights of wall-mounted microphones. His head tilted to look up at ceiling cameras whirring overhead.

Looking directly into a lens and gave a slow salacious wink, enjoying the attention; it was his turn to be watched, to be filmed, he would give them a show.

His eyes finally rested on the beautiful blonde sat waiting for him, he caught his breath. Keeping balled fists tight against his stomach, he resisted the childlike urge of a triumphant punch to the air. His angel looked stunning… she’s here, she’s here, yes, yes!

As per usual he assumed control. He remained in the doorway staring at her through the glass, refusing to move until she looked up and acknowledged his presence.

The room fell quiet as the guards and lawyer waited, curious for her reaction; they knew what this monster had done to her. She was either very brave or very stupid to face her would-be murderer again.

Her lawyer had strongly advised against the visit, David was dangerous, scheming, and unpredictable. His wealth gave him power, both inside and outside prison walls. But she refused to listen, the man haunted her, after months of sleepless nights she needed to face him, unhook his talons, and stop the vivid dreams, the incessant longing, the feelings of guilt, that it was all her fault. The lawyer shook his head, it would be a mistake.

She sat quietly, head bowed, staring into her lap, he’d started the mind fuck games already, it was pointless resisting, she knew his modus operandi all too well.

Her heart thumped. With a leap of courage, she took a deep breath, masked nerves, steeled her face, and looked up into the eyes of the man that owned her, the man that wanted her dead, the man whose body she craved… moth to the flame.

Dark provocative eyes were waiting, she’d opened the door and let them in. They twinkled at the connection and pierced straight to the back of her head… gotcha! Paralysing, searching out, rummaging through senses, taking control.

She recognised this hypnotic gaze; he’d used it to calm her during the abduction… the abduction. It sounded strange. Things like that didn’t happen to her, they happened to other people. She was a successful, carefree, girl about town before David. She had a good job, a fun, simple , life and slept well at night.

A flash of intimate memories cine-streamed her mind, she shook her head … fuck him for doing this to me, and shame on me for allowing it… time to put an end to the stupidity.

Swallowing hard, she wiped sweaty hands the length of her thigh and took a deep breath, stilling the thump in her chest… he will not break me, not this time.

David watched her, the edge of his lips curling into a cat-got-the-cream grin, she was a mess, on the verge of tears, trying hard to keep it together, his dominance had been re-established… oh, how I adore you Tara Warr, you were made for me.

He stepped through the doorway into the visitor’s room, followed by two guards. He looked healthy, tanned, and cheerful, nothing like the pale, broken, repenting convict she was expecting... what is this place, a bloody holiday camp?

Faking calm, she watched him saunter towards the chair in front of her and settle leisurely into its seat. Typical David, he took his time, enjoying all eyes on him.

She’d forgotten how intimidating he could be. His air of menace and mocking grin frightened her, crushed what little composure she had. She eyed his shackles, doubting their strength… what if he breaks free? Her hands began to shake, she clenched them tight in her lap.

She wanted to get up and run, but her legs felt frozen to the spot, paralysed, as if invisible tentacles bound them. She couldn’t move… fuck, fuck, fuck, this is a bad idea.

Killer and prey sat staring at each other through the flimsy glass partition.

He’d obviously been pumping iron whilst inside, his body pulsed as strong as an ox. An image of him naked, pushing her against a wall, flashed her mind. She caught her breath, blushed, and looked down at her hands… shit, shit, shit, he’s doing it again.

David smiled; he could read her like a book.

He sprawled back in his chair and calmly surveyed the scene before him. Four burly prison guards, a rotund, sweating lawyer, and the beautiful Tara Warr were watching him. Waiting for him to speak. He had their attention.

He had her attention, the love of his life, sitting all prim and proper, butter wouldn’t melt, had come to visit him. He sniffed the air, locating her smell as it seeped through from the connecting room. He loved her smell.

But why hadn’t she come to him before, when he needed her? All those years ago, bent over the headmaster’s desk, his body torn in two… why?

He sighed… no matter, she’s here now. These past months, locked up, he’d missed her; she’d been his obsession for over twenty years, his every waking, sleeping, living thought. They had a bond, in life and in death she was his, he was hers, she just didn’t know it yet.

Watching her had been his life’s work, it had kept him alive. He knew every inch of her, what she smelt like, tasted like, felt like, knew the tiny sound she made at the back of her throat as he entered her. He loved every detail, every movement, every gesture, he knew her by heart. He watched her now as her body stiffened… did he disgust her? His eyes hardened.

Sniffing the air he smelt fear, fear was good, better than disgust. His cock lurched.

He knew she was resisting, but that made it all the more exciting. He needed to be patient, he could do patience when needed. He sat quietly, observing, staring into her eyes. Waiting for her to stare back.

She fought it at first, but then succumbed. Her breathing calmed and her body stilled, he had her full attention.

Watching her eyes, he suddenly saw it… there, there it is! The black of her pupils dilated to treble their size… attraction… ha! I have you, my angel. David is back, and you still love him… ha!

He smiled, she may have been out of physical reach for the past few months, but the mental hold was still there, she was his.

Relaxing further into his seat, he let his legs fall open. All the while keeping eye contact, he dropped his hand to his lap and cupped his cock through loose tracky bottoms, giving it an encouraging tweak, ever on the verge of arousal it, leapt to attention.

Heady palpable, his energy pulled at her through the glass, she flinched with annoyance and turned away. This man had tried to kill her, she should be spitting on him right now, not watching him get a hard on, wanting to climb up onto his lap… the bastard.

How can you fear and want someone at the same time? Hypnotism, programming… what has he done to me? he’s a killer for chrissakes, what the hell is wrong with me?

She closed her eyes, rocked her head back and took a long slow calming breath… focus, it’s only fellow human, with a few issues… well, more than a few issues… rape, kidnap, murder, is a little serious… but he had good reason, I would’ve done the same… urrgh, there I go again, making excuses for him.

The room fell silent. She looked around, all eyes were on her, waiting for her to speak. She had called this meeting.

The four bulky wardens, two behind David and two behind Tara, stood attentive, backs rigid, arms crossed, legs apart, waiting for any sign of trouble.

They stole cursory glances at the classy, long-legged, blonde. She was not the norm for Her Majesty’s Belmarsh. And by his reaction to her, a thickening cock, it seemed lover boy David swung both ways, Jonesy would not be happy.

Warden Jones was not, one of the guards standing behind David, he assessed his competition… so this is the bitch he’s obsessed with, the name he calls out in the night.

He gave David a warning punch to the shoulder, knocking his hand away from the semi lob, resisting the urge to reach down and grab it himself. As with everything about David, his cock was impressive, and Jonesy had seen enough cocks in his time to know, the prison showers were a daily peep show.

He looked over at the bitch. She didn’t have what David needed, what the hell was her hold over him?

Tara looked up to find the furious, red-faced, Jonesy inspecting her legs. She tugged at her skirt pulling it over knees. The two guards behind her sniggered, she glanced back, not understanding the joke. She looked over to her lawyer for support, the overweight, sweaty little man was standing at the door hugging his briefcase, anxious to leave… he said this was a bad idea, he was right.

She’d arrived with brave intention, but the moment she saw his handsome face and lounge-lizard body sprawled across the seat in front of her, she froze, unable to breathe, let alone string a sentence together.

She knew he was evil, knew what lurked beneath the handsome packaging, she’d experienced it first-hand. But she also knew the energy in his fingertips, the power in his kisses, the incredible feeling of connection as he entered her, that when he wanted, he could also be the most captivating, funny, sweetest human on the planet… what a waste, how could someone blessed with so much, turn out to be so bad… but it wasn’t his fault… could she help him, change him?

He broke the silence.

‘Darling Tara, it’s good to see you, you got my letters then,’ he beamed, eyes flirting, brazenly scanning her body. ‘Sorry I can’t offer you a drink.’

Bile retched at her throat… the bastard.

Closing her eyes, she was back in his apartment, naked, bound star-shaped to the bed, choking on the red wine being poured down her throat, drowning, fighting for life, his laughter ringing in her ears.

Panic pumped her chest, she put a hand on her heart to quieten it … breathe in, out… in, and out.

Focusing on the scratched, smeared glass between them, she forced herself to tune into the sounds of prison; slamming doors, metal on metal, distant cries, life outside the suffocating visitors’ room… breathe in and out… in and out.

Knuckles clenched tight, she dug fingernails into the palm of her hand, forcing her mind to still, to concentrate on the pain… he can’t get to me here, I’m safe…. in, and out.

They sat in silence.

He stared at her, tilting his head sideways as if analysing a rare specimen in a laboratory. He missed Heddington Hall’s science lab, his secret haven where he had God-like control, dissecting small creatures that couldn’t fight back, a safe place away from the headmaster.

‘Tara, look at me,’ he teased, soft, seductive, snakelike. ‘Don’t be scared, imagine I’m making love to you… you know, how we used to… I promise not to stop till you’re shaking… go on, imagine, go there, for just one itsy-bitsy second baby… you know you want to.’

Unable to meet his stare she lowered her eyes and fidgeted in her seat… fuck! She picked at the thread on her hem, loosening it further, the stitches rippled open with ease.

For a nanosecond she went there, her face and neck flushed.

He smiled, nothing had changed, he had control, she was still his angel.

Giving a cocky I-told-you-so glance to Warden Jones he snapped into chatty, jovial, David, as if old friends meeting in a bar.

‘So, come on, tell me, how are you? Have you missed me? What’s the goss? How’s my sister, Seb, Michael? It’s been a while, but my goodness we had fun, didn’t we?’ he beamed.

Memories of the three days they spent together were hazy, distorted by drugs and the mind games he’d played. Brutal one minute, tender the next, frightening yet romantic, gushing love, yet wanting her dead… wanting her dead, three little words that filled her with fear. David always got what he wanted.

On that final day, what if her friends hadn’t gate-crashed his apartment, what if they’d arrived moments later? She shook her head, denying access to the image. He would have opened her body with the ease of lab rat dissection.

Now, listening to his smooth low voice, watching his mouth, and following his hands, more images began to surface, skin on skin, fingers caressing, tongues searching… she shook her head chasing them away.

‘My, my… we had fun,’ he smiled, reading her. ‘You’re a screamer.’

She flushed pink, a stifled giggle came from the guard standing behind her.

Another image flashed her thoughts, David, naked, between her legs, bearing down on her, his face distorted, about to come, pumping hard, shunting her body up the mattress.

She gasped at the force of the image and tried to hid the sound by shuffling her chair and clearing her throat. But he caught it, and nodded, all knowing.

‘I would offer you a delicious glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape,’ he whispered softly. ‘I know it’s your favourite.’

More memories cascaded, suffocation, panic, the taste of bile, she couldn’t breathe. Putting a hand to mouth she swallowed back the acid rising in her throat.

‘But we don’t have that vintage in here darling T,’ he reached out as if to touch her.

She snapped back in the chair, its metal legs scraping noisily on the stone floor, the wardens stepped forward ready to pounce. He raised both hands in innocent protest.

‘Hey, hey, hey," he soothed. ‘Nothing to see here,’ they stepped back.

‘Shh… little one,’ he whispered. ‘You’re frightening the locals. Don’t worry I can’t get to you right now, I’m a little tied up.’

Extending shackled wrists to the glass, he waved them in front of her.

‘But I will… I will,’ lowering his voice, barely audible against the hiss of the speaker. ‘You will taste me again, have no fear.’

She stared into his eyes, a memory of leisurely running her tongue the length of his gorged cock crashed her thoughts, she turned away, subconsciously wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, licking her lips, she could taste him.

Was he using trigger words to activate memories?

He was right, they weren’t over. Prison hadn’t changed anything, he could still haunt her. She would never be free. Anger flashed her face… how the fuck dare he.

He noticed the change in her demeanour, raised an interested eyebrow and waited, he loved it when she fought back. But unable to hold her nerve, her eyes flickered and looked to the floor, he laughed.

‘I’m addictive, aren’t I T… hard to resist,’ his eyes shone with amusement, his half-smile calm and controlled. ‘It’s ok, don’t worry, I know, it’s been like that all my life,’ he sighed. ‘Whether I want it or not, people just can’t get enough of me,’ he turned towards Warden Jones.

‘Isn’t that right Jonesy boy?’ he sneered. ‘People can’t get enough of this,’ he grabbed his balls and yanked on them, laughing at the power his sex gave him.

‘It’s the luck of the draw, but of course you’ve got to know how to use it… and this,’ he flicked his tongue backwards and forwards across his front teeth.

‘Men with big cocks tend to get lazy, thinking they’ve brought enough to the table, but it’s not enough, they have to know how to satisfy, it’s a fine art, and I was taught by the best. Those with small cocks get it, they work harder, have more tricks up their sleeve, don’t they Jonesy.’

Warden Jones stared straight ahead, seething. His fellow guards sniggered. David and Jonesy’s sex life was the talk of the prison. David liked to fuck in places where others could watch. It was obvious that Jonesy was besotted with the strikingly, good-looking inmate, and also obvious that David merely saw him as a useful asset to ease prison life.

Jonesy wasn’t the only hot-blooded male at Belmarsh that shared David’s affections, but Jonesy didn’t know that.

There were benefits to being a prison warden’s sex toy, as with being the headmaster’s special boy; benefits he knew how to manipulate to his advantage.

It always amazed him how gullible people were; see a pretty face and they’ll do anything to bathe in its shadow, have a big cock and they’ll do anything to sit on it. Sex equalled power.

Having Jonesy and Tara in the same room was a turn on, the jealousy would get Jonesy all riled up, they would fuck hard later, on show of course, probably at the back of the gym, dogging a favoured pastime in prison.

‘Why didn’t you reply to my letters? You should read the stuff I get from besotted fans, wacko’s who can’t resist my charms. Some visit, sit right there in the same chair as you, claiming undying love, offering their bodies, marriage. A woman called Vanessa is the worst, pathetic really,’ he smiled.

A pang of jealousy flushed her cheeks, she wasn’t the only one… why the hell would I be jealous? She shook her head… the man’s a fruitcake, they’re welcome to him.

‘I tell them it’s no use; there’s only one body I want to make love to.’

Jonesy shuffled noisily from foot to foot, not enjoying what he was hearing, the noise interrupted David’s flow. He looked up at Jonesy, fuming.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake Jonesy, we FUCK, we don’t make love, capiche? Buck up and grow some,’ he spat, the guards sniggered some more.

Turning back to Tara, he smiled, waiting for her reaction.

Confused, she stared blankly at him, and then at the guard, computing what had just been said, another unwanted pang of jealousy.

She’d forgotten he was bi-sexual, that he and Seb had been lovers… but this is a good thing, isn’t it? surely he’ll leave me alone now with a zillion inmates and fans to entertain.

David held her eyes and let his mouth fall open, his tongue ran the edge of his teeth. She remembered that mouth, that tongue, and its enduring ability to swirl sweet intense circles over her clitoris, taking her over the edge. The memory pulsed her groin, she crossed and re-crossed her legs… god damn this man.

He nodded, knowingly… how does he do that? he’s using triggers to control my thoughts.

David raised a finger to the partition and slowly traced the outline of her face, gently stroking the surface of the glass as if caressing her. She turned away, more memories flooded in, she knew what those fingers felt like, they had an electric touch that skimmed her skin with tingles of pleasure… fuck, fuck, fuck… I must stop fucking swearing!

No matter how much it disgusted her, the sex had been consenting, not taken, not forced, not rape… hell, she’d begged him for it. The evil murdering bastard had made love to her, and she’d let him, over and over.

A flashback of the headmaster’s murder scene pictures entered her thoughts, blood, dissected skin… she felt sick.

‘I know you want me,’ he whispered, so softly she could barely hear him, she read his lips.

‘You do want me, don’t you Tara, you’re getting wet, I can sense it,’ he beamed. ‘Your neck flushes pink when you’re horny.’

Tara’s hand subconsciously went to her neck, it was warm, she shook her head.

The lawyer shuffled behind her, yanking at the collar of his shirt, and realigning his tie. The intensity getting to him, he was unsure whether to interrupt.

‘But it’s love I need Tara not sex, that can be bought on a street corner… I never feel love, you know, real love, only when I’m with you,’ his voice softened. ‘I feel it… you love me, we’re good, you know it… you make love to me.’

She closed her eyes, forcing images of their entwining bodies to the back of her mind, mustering the strength to speak.

‘N… n… no, no,’ she stammered, shaking her head. ‘That’s not true.’

‘Aha, finally she speaks,’ he mocked, clapping his hands like an eager child.

‘It’s called ‘love’ Tara… and when a woman is in love she puts up with all kinds of shit, just ask any wife, mother, lover, sister, mistress… women have the strength to forgive, protect, rebuild... to do anything… if they love..’

‘N… no, NO,’ she shouted. ‘This is bullshit… why can’t you just leave me alone?’

As if flicking a switch, his face turned dark.

‘Why?’ he spat. ‘Because you’re mine, because you’re on my list... because I love you, because you love me, because if I can’t have you, no one else will… but now, NOW,’ he shouted, anger bubbling. ‘Your interfering friends have been added to that list, it will all take longer. You silly, SILLY, girl for getting those fucking idiots involved, they will have to die also.’

She stared at him in horror.

‘I’m gonna be such a busy boy when I get out,’ he sneered.

‘Two minutes,’ barked Warden Jones.

Tara jumped.

David laughed.

‘A little nervous aren’t we T, you need to relax more,’ he sat back to survey her, savouring her unease.

‘You’re sick, you’re locked up, you’re not going to kill anyone, you’ve done enough killing, and I’m not yours… besides you have him now,’ she looked up at Jonesy, willing for him to take on the gauntlet of David’s love. ‘You’re gay, so what the hell do you want with me?’

‘Urgh! There you go again, getting all suburban on me... gay, straight, metro… I like beautiful things, so shoot me,’ he scoffed. ‘I like you, man and boy I’ve liked you, but of course you know that I wrote you, remember?’ pressing the side of his forefinger against puckered lips, he eyed her like a piece of art.

‘But I must say, you’re looking a bit peaky T… you’ve let yourself go, and still wearing black I see, your wardrobe never was very imaginative, now was it.’

‘It’s a darn sight better than yours,’ she muttered, sub-consciously running hands through hair and smoothing down her skirt. ‘Scrubs are so last year… where’d you get those, scrubbers R us?’

He laughed at her attempt at humour and leaned in close to the partition.

‘Ahhh don’t worry, I still loves ya…’ he smiled, drawing a large heart in the dirt of the glass.

The guards became alert, eyes followed his hands. He kissed the tip of his finger and placed the kiss in the centre of the heart. Watching her reaction through splayed fingers, he slowly opened his hand and pressed it flat against the glass.

She didn’t see it at