Chapter 10
As they hurried through the woods, Laura asked, "Aren't we going in the wrong direction?"
"No," Richard replied. "If I had parked along the lane, he would have noticed my empty wagon and been suspicious. So I went to the next road north-it's only a quarter of a mile-and parked there. Then I hurried cross-country to the lane, found our spot, and waited for you. I had plenty of time, if he hadn't made you go to the wrong place."
"Wonderful!"
They hurried on for a few minutes, going down a gentle incline, and then slackened pace. "We're nearly there, Laura. About as far from the road to the north as our spot is from the road to the south."
Laura came to a halt. "Our spot was, Richard. I never want to go there again."
"No. Neither do I."
He looked at her carefully. She was breathing hard, which might have been from the brisk walk, but the hard brightness in her eyes remained from her operating on Bull, he supposed. She looked around and so did he. They were in a small moonlit glade.
"Richard, is this place as private as the old one?"
"More so, if anything. It's not so close to a lover's lane or any houses."
"Good. I like this even better."
She seized the blanket from his arm, unfolded it, and threw it out on the ground, almost in a single motion. She stepped away from Richard and onto the center of the blanket, dropping her purse and kicking off her shoes as she went. She turned to face him, and she touched the uppermost of the two fastened buttons on her sweater.
She was a compellingly beautiful sight as she stood there, a gentle breeze wafting through her dark hair and the darker tones of her breasts showing through the thin sweater. Richard noticed the smooth flesh showing through the openings at the top and bottom of her sweater, and he remembered that she had nothing on under her skirt. The episode with Bull had left him keyed up he found, and involuntarily he mentally undressed Laura, seeing her hidden beauties.
She spoke first, and when she did. her voice shook.
"Richard," she said, and then in two short syllables she told him what to do with her.
"What?" He had heard her and understood her, and he wasn't shocked. That was just that she'd used a lover's word which he had never heard from her before. "I said," and she repeated her command. He walked toward her. Her eyes met his, and they were hard and challenging. "Do you still love me and want to marry me?" she asked. "After what I've done tonight, you don't have to say yes. I'll understand-"
"I love you more than ever and more than ever want to marry you."
A ghost of a smile came to her lips. "And I love you," she said more gently. "And eight days ago you were just starting to do that with me, and we were interrupted. Now the interruption is over. It's time you finished what you started."
He went closer and took her to his arms. "I want you, Richard," she said looking at him. "I want you to wear me out. I want us to go absolutely crazy." Her language was honest and direct.
He recognized, too, that nature was redressing a balance. Only minutes before, Laura had been doing a dance of death. Now the strange evening demanded for a crescendo a dance of life. That was what Laura wanted and needed-and he, too, he found as he drew her closer-and that was what she was going to get.
His mouth pressed to hers. They lashed and struggled and swarmed like two mindless animals. Richard found the separate vertebrae and the smooth muscles of the curve of her back, and he gripped a buttock.
Laura unfastened the two buttons of her sweater, then she went to work on his shirt. When that was open, she made his hands leave her body long enough to push the sweater off. Then she leaned back on the curve of his arm and took off her sweater.
She brought her hands to the firm, shining bowls and flexed her fingers against them. "They're good breasts, aren't they, Richard?"
"The most beautiful in the world."
"I enjoy them. And I want you to, also. People should enjoy their bodies, and one another's bodies as well."
"I'll enjoy your lovely body, love. I'll enjoy every inch of you."
"Then enjoy my breasts, love, and make me enjoy them. Do wonderful things for them."
As they sank to their knees, bringing their mouths together once more, he took a breast and caressed that. He moved the breast over her rib cage, stroked, sought the nerve center, teased the tip with his thumb.
"Oh, Richard," she sighed, "you're lovely to me, so lovely. And I want to be lovely to you. I want to do everything we can think of, everything that lovers do. I want to love every way there is...."
She reached down to his waist to unfasten him, but bent as he was, she couldn't get his clothing off. So she pushed him away, and he fell on his back. Then she quickly ripped his slacks and shorts down, and he kicked them off.
With something like awe, she touched him. "You're all mine. And I'm going to cherish you and guard you and use you and make you work forever. I love you!" He reached for her skirt, but she drew away from him. She took off his shoes and socks. And then, as if doing homage, she bent to kiss him wherever she could. Her warm little mouth and sharp teeth were almost more than he could take. He reached down, took her under the shoulders, and pulled her to him.
"What's the matter? Wasn't that good?" she asked.
"Almost too good. A few seconds more and you would have driven me mad."
"That's what I want to do. Drive you mad to drive me mad."
"Then you mustn't turn me into a madman too soon."
She smiled. "Oh. I see."
He held her closely and, as he kissed her, he pulled her skirt off. He ran his hand over her, seeking.
"I like that when you touch me," she said, crushing her breasts against his chest. "That doesn't hurt at all when you touch me. Is it safe to touch you now?"
"I think so."
"Let me take my skirt off first."
She turned her back to him, staying on her knees. She unfastened the button and the zipper on the side of her skirt and took that off. Richard reached out to stroke her. She mewed and fell forward on her hands. "Oh, glory I" she said.
She moved around, and he looked at the underside of her cliff-like breasts, silhouetted against the bright night sky. "Darling, I love you so much," she said, and the cliffs came swiftly to his face. He took one and drew at the other, but the one at his mouth didn't remain there long. She was kissing his chest, her long dark hair moving over him like a breeze.
Then she was giving him the most dangerous, sweetest kiss of all. Then he could take that no longer, and he pushed her away from him, rolling her to her back. He rose to his knees and looked at her, naked and panting, burning with love.
"I like that," she said. "Is that all right to love that way?"
"All ways are right for lovers," he said, "but there's a best way, and that's what we're going to try."
"Yes. That's how I want you." She twisted on her bade. "Love me the best way, darling."
His control was coming back, and so he went to her.
"Oh, love," she said as she reached for him, "this in only the second time you've been here. Only the first, really, because that will be different this time."
He took her, and they lay together quietly.
"I'd actually forgotten that was like this," she said, and moved a little.
He responded. Almost without conscious orders from him, simply because he allowed that to happen, he began to work.
"Love, I don't think I can take this," she said. "Oh, love, this may kill me!"
"Baby, sweet love," he asked, "am I as good for you as you are for me?"
"Oh, yes, yes!" Their work grew faster. "Oh, lover, you're so wonderful!"
He worked harder, played with her, and her breasts, her entire body, danced with him. Suddenly her fingers tore at him, and she screamed, "Richard! I'm there!"
Her cry and her sudden clutching set him off. As she continued to cry out, he joined her, the pleasureagony almost rendering him unconscious.
Then they slowed, slowed and ceased. They were lying silently again.
"That was so wonderful," she said after a while.
"Beautiful. I feel like you're really mine now. We're married, Laura, in the eyes of God, at least, and I'll never lose you."
"Never, my love. We've truly had one another, known one another, for the first time. And we'll remember that thousands of times more."
"Millions."
He moved away from her and looked for his cigarettes. He lit two and gave her one.
"Have you loved many girls, darling?"
"Oh, thousands."
"Tell, the truth. How many?"
"None of your business. But only a few. Very few."
"I'm just as glad. Were any of them better than me?"
"Don't be silly! That's like comparing a goddess with a tramp!"
"You're sweet to say so."
"I mean that."
They finished their cigarettes, chatted on, and moved closer together. Less than twenty minutes had passed since they had finished, but Richard responded instantly to her touch. They caressed one another and wrestled, laughing, gasping, giggling. Then they weren't laughing any more. They were panting, harshly, desperately. Then they struck at one another.
That was different this time. That lasted longer for Richard even though he played with Laura longer, and she had her moment twice to his once. He played with her not only longer but harder. But the final moments were just as good as the first time, pleasure ripping over them.
The next time, they had to wait longer, well over an hour and a half. But then they explored one another as deliciously as they had the first time. Laura petted him and squealed with delight before taking him, and her obvious pleasure was one reason for his capability.
After that, they both wanted to stay and love some more-they would have enjoyed remaining all night and swore to find a way of doing so sometime-but they decided it would be best if Laura went home. Smiling and cheerful, in love with one another and most of the world, they put their clothes back on.
For a long time, Bull Chapman didn't move. He lay shaking and babbling quietly to himself. He hardly had what it took to be grateful that he was still alive and unmutilated. He was a sobbing, slobbering mess.
When at last something like rational thought returned to him, his one thought was to go somewhere where he'd never be found, never be seen, again. When he had made his promise of going away to some place where Richard and Laura would never see him, he had meant it. Never before in his entire life had he meant anything so sincerely, and now that the murderous pair had left, he still intended to keep his promise. Not for the life of him would he ever dare to face those two.
Finally, he managed to gather strength to pluck at the ropes around his ankles. They were simply tied, yet it seemed to take centuries to get them undone. Every muscle in Bull's body ached, not only from the awkward position he had been in, but also from his contortions in trying to avoid what the girl had done to him.
He was a sticky, smeary, filthy chunk of trembling flesh: he felt as if he'd turned to slime, some inhuman refugee from a garbage dump. He looked at himself and wept.
With great difficulty, he managed to get his clothes on. Then he stumbled through the woods looking for lovers' lane. By this time he had only the vaguest idea of where it was. He finally stumbled onto it and walked down it, staggering with ache and fatigue, until he found his car. Once in it, he again broke into tears and collapsed against the steering wheel. "God, God...." he said aloud. That girl hadn't been human. She'd been a demon, some kind of evil spirit. She'd done things to him no human woman would ever do. When he thought of them, he began to wretch all over again. And that kid, Richard, had been almost as bad, the way he had stood by with those icy eyes and that cold little smile and the gun in his hand.
He got the car moving. Half of the way to his apartment he drove like a drunk, and he expected to be picked up by a fellow cop before he reached home. God. wouldn't those pigs love to catch him like this! They all hated him, and they'd give him hell for the rest of his life. He managed to gather his wits and drive more carefully.
He sat in the car in front of his building for a while, watching it carefully. He didn't want anybody to see him the way he was. He would have entered by the back way, but that was a much longer distance from his own door.
He hurried into the building and up to his apartment. Once the door of another apartment had started to open, and he'd almost cried out his dismay. But he'd run like hell and made it-he hoped-without being seen.
He turned on a few lights, pulled down the shades, and took off his clothes. They were so filthy from his body that he rolled them up tightly to put into the incinerator later. Then he took a quart of rye from the kitchen and treated himself to a long scorching swallow.
He took the bottle to the bathroom with him and kept it near at hand while he took a hot shower. Soon the hot water and the whiskey made him feel better.
Much better.
What a damned fool he'd made of himself in front of those two! What a blubbering mess he'd let them turn him into!
Him! Bull Chapman!
He should have known from the start that they'd never have the nerve to knock him off, let alone butcher him. The damned little witch had hardly even cut him-just these little scratches that stung but wouldn't even leave scars. By God, if he'd been in their place he would have known how to use that gun and that knife!
Maybe one of these days he'd be in their place!
To think that they, or anybody, would have the nerve to put bracelets on Bull Chapman! To tie him up naked! To tease him with a knife! To do foul things to him! God, he hated them!
Thinking about them, he burst into tears again under the shower. But not for long. He reached for the bottle and bad another drink.
Well, he'd show them. Someday, somehow. He'd cut Richard in front of Laura and make her drink his blood; he'd slice her breasts, but not before he'd love hell out of her. Barbarous visions passed through Bull Chapman's mind.
So they thought they could run old Bull out of town, did they! As easy as that! Play a few dirty little kid-games on him, and he'd hightail it out of town! Well, he had news for them! They hadn't even begun to make Bull Chapman run! He'd slaughter them!
Tears of humiliation choked him again. He fought them down and reached for his bottle.
They'd find out that they were dealing with a man. A real man. That Laura witch didn't know when she had a man. Lily was different, she knew. He thought about Lily-her big globular boobs with the tips sticking out ... He would have liked to have had Lily here right now, right here under the shower with him. He'd have shown her what a real man was like. Right now he wouldn't mind proving to some dame that he was a man.
Yeah, why not? It wasn't really so late yet; though-funny-it seemed to be. Why not pay Lily a call tonight? He'd give her the time of her life. That would prove he was a real man and not just a sniveling kid. Wouldn't that take a real man to give a dame a thrill after what he'd been through? Thinking about that he began to feel passion.
He got out of the shower and dried himself off. Yes, sir, he was going to give Lily a time tonight, and she'd never forget him. But first he had something else to do. He intended to put both of those kids through hell, and he could start tonight, right here in his apartment.
He walked naked into the living room and found the phone book. He looked up the name and address he wanted. The number was listed, all right. Very democratic.
He dialed. After half a dozen rings there was an answer.
"May I speak to Mr. Dale, please? Oh. sorry, this is Carl Chapman. I'm an officer on the police force-oh, I'm speaking to Mr. Dale!"
"Well, Mr. Dale, I'd like to do you a favor. I've got some information for you. Now, I should have run the kids in, Mr. Dale, but since I knew you wouldn't want a scandal-"
"No, I'm not drunk! Now, listen to me! I'm a reputable police officer. About a week or so back, I found your kid Laura and another kid called Richard Bristol on a blanket in the woods off that lovers' lane north of "It's my business, sir, because I'm a police officer and they were naked. Yeah, naked ... but they were just kids so I scared 'em and let 'em go. Knew you wouldn't want scandal. But I caught 'em again tonight, and they had gone all the way-you heard me! Shoulda run 'em in, but I'm doing you a favor! Maybe you want your daughter booked downtown-me, I wouldn't like it...."
Bull finally got the old guy straight on the whole thing. The louse sounded like he was sick, which he probably was. Bull almost laughed out loud on the phone.
He hung up.
Just like a damn Boy Scout. Good deed done for the day.
He took another drink and went to dig out some fresh clothes. After that-he gave himself a pat-all for Lily!
Laura was in the highest of spirits as Richard drove her home, the highest he had ever seen her exhibit. She was full of small jokes and wild laughter and her teeth flashed in her delicate face. No doubt it was because the weight of the past eight days had been lifted from her shoulders. The degradation to which Bull had subjected her had been washed away by the degradation she had turned on him and by the love she had found with Richard. He reflected that some philosopher might theorize that each of them-she and Bull-had degraded himself, but in psychological fact, that simply hadn't proved to be true. Laura even appeared to have gained by the total experience. Horrible as that had been, she now seemed more alive and more womanly than she ever had before.
Richard counted that to be a blessing to himself, for as far as he was concerned, he and Laura were now married. She was his responsibility for the rest of his life, and the sooner they could get the blessing of church and state, the better.
They rode through the night singing and laughing and chattering.
"Will you love me always, Richard?
"Always."
Laura broke into delightful giggles. "Oh, Richard, we old married people have so much fun!" She reached for him.
"Lady, give a guy a little time to recuperate!"
"Why, sweetheart, I thought you were superman!"
"Hey, look out! You'll wreck the car!"
Somehow they made it home and up Laura's drive without cracking up.
Richard turned the key, took Laura into his arms, and they kissed. It was as if the past week hadn't happened-except that everything was better. Now that the evening was drawing to a close and something like sanity was returning, Richard wasn't sure just how their threat to Bull Chapman would stick, but he told himself he could be fairly confident that it would stick enough. Maybe Chapman would get out of town, maybe he wouldn't. But it would be a long, long time before the man stopped dragging his tail, if he ever did. He wouldn't be able to think of some of the things Laura had done to him, let alone have them spoken of aloud. He had gone through an experience as bad as the one ever happening again.
"Want to come in the house for a while?" Laura asked.
"If we're in there together, your folks will think we've both gone nuts, the way we're acting."
"Aw, scaredy cat, come on."
"Okay."
They got out of the wagon and started toward the porch.
The screen door flew open and Mr. Dale came down at them like the wrath of God. He grabbed Laura and roared, "You dirty little tramp!"
"Daddy-"
His hand flashed across her cheek, making a report like the crack of a rifle.
Richard dived at the pair, but Mr. Dale had the reflexes of anger. His knuckles caught Richard on the jaw and slammed him back against his station wagon.
"Get out of here!" he said. "Get out of here before I kill you!"
"Daddy-"
"Mr. Dale, what the hell is this?"
"You know damned good and well! I heard straight from the police officer who caught you together."
Richard didn't wait to hear anything more. He opened the door of the Nova and slid behind the wheel. He started the motor and gunned off.
So his intuition was right after all. And this time there would be no turning back, no last minute reprieve.
This time he was going to kill Bull Chapman.