Freight Trained Read online

  "Please tell me you're close." He didn't know how much longer he could last. Everything about Abby was perfect, but her ass was a work of art and looking at it while fucking her had him nearly going over the edge.

  "I'm almost there." God, he loved her voice. Breathy and so fucking sexy. He found her clit slowly rolling it, helping her along.

  "Come on, love, come for me." He felt her pussy grab at his dick, squeezing it with tiny spasms and that's all it took, two more thrusts, and he saw stars.

  * * * * *

  Abby felt the bed dip and heard Cole go into the bathroom. She was glad using a condom necessitated a tiny reprieve in having to face Cole right after sex. Not that she didn't enjoy it one-hundred percent, but everything was still so new and while lost in the throes of pleasure—the things they said and did—after the big event, she felt a bit embarrassed.

  She was lying flat, fully covered under the sheet by the time he returned. As if sensing her discomfort, he flipped off the light before settling himself in bed and taking her in his arms. His fingers lightly trailed up and down her back, and she closed her eyes relishing the tiny shivers it produced. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if she started purring.

  She sensed Cole had something on his mind, but the drowsy feeling overtaking her left her drifting and as she scrambled to focus enough to ask him what it was, sleep claimed her.

  The last bell before the weekend rang, and Abby plopped onto her desk chair with a flop. The first week of school had flown by in a haze of new, eager (and some not so eager) faces, a plethora of names to remember, adjusting and learning how to be a full-time instead of part-time teacher, and all the uncertainty, self-doubt, and excitement that went along with all of that.

  To say she was ready for the weekend was an understatement. On a good note, no more mysterious gifts from her psycho-secret admirer since the mystery box on Monday. On an even better note, Cole had gotten his lab results back and was given a clean bill of heath and Abby had gotten her birth control shot so they were free to officially ditch the condom. And on the best note, she learned a new number, sixty-nine, the night before last.

  Abby's attention was drawn to her classroom door when a mop of brown curls peeked in. "Hey, Abs, us girls are headed to Dusty's tonight to get our groove on. I know you've got yourself a man now," she brought her hand up and waved it to fan her face, "and quite a man at that. Woo wee, if he were mine, I wouldn't ditch him for any form of debauchery. Anywho, so I figure you probably don't want to go but still wanted to incline the invitation, you know, for manners sake and all."

  Abby was giggling by the time Maggie finished her speech. "As much as I would love to, I'm actually quite beat. In fact, I was just dreaming about lazing away on the couch watching TV all weekend."

  "Bet that's not the only thing you were dreaming about lazing around on," Maggie said, accompanied by an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.

  Speaking of Cole, because that's exactly who Maggie was speaking of, he was usually here to pick her up by now. She glanced up at the big, white-faced clock on the classroom wall, quarter after three.

  Maggie saw her eyeing the time. "Everything okay?"

  Abby gave her a wave. "Sure. Cole's just late picking me up. He must've gotten tied up. I'm sure he'll be here soon."

  Maggie nodded. "Well, I'll be in my classroom for another half hour or so. Just pop in if you need a ride home."

  "I'll do that, thanks."

  A half hour later, Abby had tidied and re-tidied her room in preparation for Monday morning and still no sign of Cole. She'd called his cell, which went straight to voicemail and received no return phone call and had the same results for the two texts she'd sent.

  Maggie popped back in and seeing Abby still there, re-offered to give her a lift home which Abby accepted thankfully. She had Maggie take her to Cole's. She wasn't sure where he could be that he couldn't answer his phone other than working with his horses, losing track of time.

  Maggie pulled into the drive, and Abby turned to her before getting out. "Thanks again for the ride. Hope you guys have fun tonight."

  Maggie was looking at the quiet house. "Should I wait to see if he's home? I don't want to leave you stranded here."

  Abby chuckled. "Thanks but I'll be fine. He's probably out back with his horses and if not, I have a key. I'm not stranded, promise. My car's right over there." Abby pointed to her Fusion parked in front of the house a few yards away.

  This seemed to satisfy Maggie for with a kiss on the cheek and a shooing motion with her hand, she basically threw Abby out of the car.

  Laughing, she got out. "Be careful tonight." She waved as Maggie backed out of the drive then dug through her purse for her set of keys. She definitely needed to change her clothes before looking for Cole.

  She opened the front door and was met with silence, making her doubly sure she'd find Cole out back. She quickly walked across the living room, her heels tapping out a steady beat against the hard wood of the floor before becoming silent as she made her way up the carpeted stairs.

  She heard voices drifting out of Cole's room once her feet hit the landing and instead of keeping her quick pace, found her step slowing as she approached the partially opened door.

  Placing the flat of her palm on the door, she swung it open slowly, revealing the room. The first thing she noticed was the gloom. At four o'clock at the height of summer, there were still hours left before dusk, and her eyes sought out the window, noting the closed slats of the blinds had only tiny slivers of light seeping through. The next thing she noted, the voices came from the TV, the only other source of light in the room.

  She took a step over the threshold and spied Cole on the bed, hair rumpled, bare-chested, jeans unfastened and riding low on his hips. His hand clutched the neck of an almost empty liquor bottle as he sat, passed out against the headboard. Other than a few pillows he'd pulled out to stack behind his back, the bed was still made from earlier that morning.

  She stood, uncertain what to do, as she took in Cole's uncharacteristic display of drunkenness. Never had she seen him ingest more than the occasional beer, and she wondered what prompted his overindulgence.

  The sudden loud blaring of a laugh-track startled her and seemed to rouse Cole. She flicked the switch for the overhead light and quickly adjusted the dimmer switch, muting the glaringly bright light before hitting the power button on the TV, bathing the room in silence.

  His half-hooded, bloodshot eyes tracked her movements as she approached the bed. "Hey," she said softly as she reached over him, taking the bottle and setting it on the nightstand. "Everything okay?"

  "I fucked up. I fuck everything up." His voice, more gravelly than usual, had a melancholy air.

  "How did you fuck up?" He was clearly upset about something. She looked around for his phone, thinking he may have gotten some upsetting news and it would hold a clue but didn't see it anywhere.

  "He's dead. They're all dead."

  Knowing now what perpetrated his drinking binge, she thought to change the subject. "I tried calling when you didn't pick me up. You didn't answer."

  "I'm not at your fuckin' beck and call, Darlin'."

  His slurred words held a note of scorn, and she was taken aback by his vehemence. Cole was obviously not a happy drunk. She concentrated on keeping her own temper in check and her voice even so as not to rile him further. "That's true. I was just worried about you is all."

  He gave her a lazy smile. "No need to worry 'bout me. I'm a big boy. Want to come over here and see?"

  He reached into his underwear, taking himself in hand.

  She gave him a small smile, holding up a hand. "No need. I've seen it."

  He frowned, tr
ied to sit up straighter but failed, returning to his original slouched position. "You telling me no, Little Mouse? You're not allowed to tell me no."

  Abby felt a small frisson of fear trickle down her spine. She didn't think Cole would purposely hurt her, but in his inebriated state, she was a little uncertain of his behavior. "I would never tell you no, Cole. Why don't you close your eyes and rest a minute while I change out of my work clothes."

  Cole closed his eyes on a sigh and smiled. "That's my good baby girl." His eyes slitted open a crack. "Oh, but leave on the shoes. I fuckin' love your fuck-me heels."

  He closed his eyes again, and Abby slipped out of the room. Her plan was to let him sleep off his stupor, but she sure as hell didn't plan on being around when he woke up. Cole drunk was bad enough, she couldn't even imagine what Cole with a hangover would be like.

  She did hesitate to go home but after a minute of debate—it would still be light for several hours yet, and she would lock herself in the house until Cole gave her a call—she decided home was just as safe as here in the state Cole was in. Besides, who would know she even left? She was sure her sicko-admirer didn't have eyes on her twenty-four/seven.

  Mind made up, she scooped up Lucky and headed out the door.

  Abby sat on the sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, grading test papers while absently stroking Lucky, curled beside her. With a sigh, she rubbed her tired eyes, tossed the papers on the table then picked up her phone to check the time. A little after ten. Still early for a Friday night, but she was tired after a long first week of school and figured she might as well go to bed. Cole was more than likely still passed out, so she wouldn't be hearing from him anytime soon.

  A loud crash of breaking glass at the back of the house had her yelling out in surprise and Lucky bounding off the couch, disappearing into her bedroom. She jumped up, fear racing through her body—fear for herself and fear for Lucky—as she frantically looked around for something to use as a weapon. A knife block sitting on her kitchen counter caught her eye but before she could make a run for it, her sicko-admirer came into view, a squirming Lucky clutched tightly in his arms.

  "Hello, my sweet."

  Her eyes darted to the kitchen, gauging the distance.

  "Don't even think about running or your cute little puppy here will pay the consequences. And we all know how much you love sweet, little Lucky. Would be such a shame really to snap his furry neck."

  That he knew the name of her dog, told Abby he'd been closer to her than she'd ever known. She tried to think, but her brain was in a state of paralysis. She knew logically she shouldn't risk her life for a dog but damn it, she loved that dog and sadly, she would risk her life for him. She held up her hands. "Please, I'm not going anywhere. Just don't hurt him."

  His evil smile came back as he scratched Lucky's head. "Such a good momma." He looked down at Lucky. "Did you hear that, boy? Your momma loves you." He looked back up. "Now come here, slowly. Keep your hands where I can see them."

  Abby slowly inched her way forward, not wanting to make any sudden moves and risk Lucky getting hurt. When she got close, he grabbed her by the arm and dropped the dog. He landed on his side before slowly rolling to his feet, giving her a small whine when he looked up at her. A jolt of pain zapped her neck and a few seconds later all went black.

  Abby awoke, surprisingly clear-headed, remembering everything that had taken place before passing out. Also, surprisingly, she wasn't in full-out panic mode. In fact, she felt pretty calm because, at the moment, she was in the backseat of a moving car. Yes, she feared what psycho-stalker/kidnapper had in store for her but knowing he was preoccupied for the moment driving, kept her emotions from flying out of control.

  She took the time to assess her situation. Her wrists and ankles were tied with those plastic zip-tie thingies. The kind with the notches that make it impossible to pull apart once they've been "zipped" through the slot. She tested their hold anyway, but the hard plastic ties were impossible to pull loose or wiggle out of. She was neither blindfolded nor gagged so were probably traveling somewhere unpopulated or with very low population, giving her less chance of escape. That thought had her heart beating faster.

  Not knowing how long she'd been unconscious, left her with no idea how far they'd traveled or what direction they were heading. Lifting her head from the seat to look out the side window did her no good, seeing nothing but inky darkness and the shadowed outline of the trees that lined the road.

  "You awake back there?"

  The question startled her. Did she feign sleep and hopefully catch him unawares once they reached their destination or admit she was awake and pump him for information while he was preoccupied driving?

  The option was taken out of her hands. "I know you're awake. I heard you moving around back there so pretending to sleep will do you no good."

  Okay, option two then. "Where are we going?"

  She saw him glance at her through the rear-view mirror. All she could see were his eyes, but the crinkles at the corners gave her the indication he was smiling. "To our new home. I know you wanted to go to Hawaii for our honeymoon but unfortunately, the boss wouldn't give me time off work." His eyes flashed to her through the mirror again along with another set of eye crinkles. "But don't worry, I'll be sure to make it up to you. You won't be sorry."

  Abby felt a shiver slide down her spine. The guy was delusional, and that didn't bode well for her. He seemed in an amicable mood so asked another question. "What..." Abby licked her lips. "What are you planning to do with me? Are you going to kill me?"

  She was sorry she asked the question as soon as the words left her lips and more sorry when evil laughter filled the car. "Kill you? Don't be silly, Celine. I would never kill my blushing bride. It's my duty to take care of you, love you, and cherish you. And I'll do all those things tonight. After all, it is our wedding night."

  Oh, God. A new fear started to grow and panic finally started to set in. Who did he think she was? Who was Celine? She struggled at the bonds on her wrists again, hoping they had magically loosened since the last time she tested them. They held as firm as they had a few minutes ago.

  "Now, no more talking, Celine. We're almost there."

  The car stopped a few minutes later. The back door opened, and she was grabbed under the arms and slid from the backseat. She knew struggling at this point would be futile so instead remained docile, hoping to be presented with a better opportunity for escape.

  Her feet were set on the ground, and she teetered, her bound ankles causing her to lose her balance. He was there to steady her with a firm hand on her arm.

  He seemed to study her a moment before a smile lit his face. "Can't have you hopping all over the place, now can we?"

  Oh, God, was he going to cut her restraints? Please. Please. Please.

  Nope. In one swift move, he picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He chuckled ominously. "Need to carry you over the threshold, anyway."

  He carried her into a one-room cabin and flicked a wall switch that activated a tall, shadeless floor lamp before he set her on a narrow twin bed that occupied one corner. The once white sheets were browned with grime and yellowed with age, and the mattress was saggy in the center, making it hard to keep her upright balance.

  She watched as he went to the small kitchen and picked up a pair of scissors that rested on the counter. He knelt by her feet. "You're not going to cause any problems are you?" he asked, snipping at the air above her ankles with the scissors.

  Abby vigorously shook her head afraid to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.

  With a small tilt of his head, he stared at her a moment. "Sorry, love, I just don't trust you yet." He reached around behind himself at the small of his back. The black objec
t he held flashed in her peripheral vision just before she felt the zap at her neck. And again, it was lights out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Cole rolled over and opened his eyes to a vast, empty expanse of bed covers. His head pounded, his mouth was dry as shit, and his breath probably smelled even worse. Fuck, he knew better than to drink too much, he was an ass when drunk and more than likely sent Abby scurrying for the couch.

  Abby! He sat up too quickly and the room went fuzzy. His heart beat faster when he couldn't remember anything after coming up to his room with a bottle of Jack to drown his guilt on the anniversary of Marco's death. Did he pick her up from work?

  Rolling out of bed, he raced down the stairs, searching the entire bottom floor while calling her name. Nothing. Something nagged at the back of his brain, and it took him a moment to realize Lucky was gone too. So she had been here. He wasn't even sure what time it was. Only knew it was dark outside.

  Phone. He needed his phone. He patted his back pockets, feeling the bulge. His pants sagged, making him realize they weren't fully fastened. He did them up quickly as he took out his phone and saw he had one missed call and two missed texts, all from Abby, sent shortly after school had gotten out. Fuck. He quickly dialed her number and after five agonizingly endless rings, it went to voicemail. He checked the time on his phone. It was late, half past one so she was likely sleeping and not hearing her phone.

  He was wasting time. Needing to get to her, he grabbed a shirt from upstairs and a water from the fridge. Plucking his keys off the counter, he slammed into his truck and not bothering to wait for the garage door to fully raise, backed out as soon as he had enough clearance. His only goal, getting to Abby.