PROLOGUE

Austin, Texas

Tuesday, March 23

10:15 p.m.

“Call out for help, just like we practiced.” He pressed the phone to the woman’s face.

She moistened her dried lips and said, “Help me, please. He’s going to kill me.”

He cocked a brow, reminding her there was more to the script.

“Please save me.”

Satisfied, he ended the call, removed the battery from her phone, and tucked both in his pocket. He grabbed the wadded cloth, shoved it back in her mouth, and pulled the plastic bag over her head. She moaned and struggled to free her face from the plastic and her hands from their bindings.

His very first one, he had been too afraid to kill. The second one he’d murdered quickly because he thought death would satisfy this nagging desire. But he had been plagued by disappointment. That was why this time he had resolved to savor the experience like a fine cigar.

As he suspected, her slow, steady suffocation intensified his sexual pleasure. The writhing of her muscles. The twitches in the hands and legs bound tight with black corded rope. Her panicked expression amplified by the plastic bag. She was fighting to breathe, endure, and survive. It was a remarkable battle, given her lifestyle. Endurance was embedded deep in everyone.

He pulled the bag off her head, gave her time to inhale deeply and for the color to return to her face. He covered her face again and delighted in her renewed struggle. He repeated the process three more times.

Each time he zeroed in on her pleading, desperate, and frantic eyes, his erection hardened like it had when he was a teenager. Overcome with a craving he could no longer control, he had pushed inside her. The first time, he had come quickly and rolled off her as she’d panted for air. The second time, he had lasted longer, and this third time he’d decided he could repeat this process over and over forever.

But time was running out. Better to leave while the getting was good. There would be a next time. Not with this one, but another—of that he was sure.

He yanked on jeans, a black pullover shirt, and athletic shoes. He knelt beside her and tightened the bag’s drawstring around her neck. Her breasts heaved up and down faster. He gently smoothed his hand over her naked body. “I like it when you fight.”

She stilled but watched him closely under hooded eyes.

“This is better than anything I’d dared imagine.” The first time had been good, but this was fantastic.