Page 158 of Random in Death
When she started to walk again, he came up beside her, slid the needle in—delicately this time. Then swatted the air.
“Sorry! You had a bee land on you.”
“I think it stung me. Shit!” Frowning, she rubbed at her arm.
“Are you allergic?” he asked, all concern, then looked at her face. “Oh, hey! Hi. It’s Francis, from school?”
“Oh yeah, hi.” Still frowning, she gave her arm another rub.
“Are you here by yourself?”
“No. I’m meeting some friends. They’re getting on line at the Cyclone, so—”
“I was heading for that myself. It’s such an iconic ride, isn’t it? Have you had a good summer so far?”
“Uh, yeah. Actually pretty mag.” She’d quickened her pace, obviously hoping to shake him off. Now, as the drug began its work, she slowed. “Um, you?”
“Absolutely! I’ve had a simply glorious summer, and it’s only going to get better. Let’s go this way.”
“What?”
“This way.”
She shrank back at first when he put his arm around her, then turned as he did.
“We’re going to take a ride. You like rides, don’t you, Delaney?”
“I like rides. I’m going to ride with my friends.”
“I’m your friend now.”
“I feel funny.”
He slid his hand up from her waist, toward her breast. “You feel marvelous. You’re excited to be with me.”
At the tunnel, he got on line with her. Only about a dozen ahead of them, and that was fine. It gave him more time to prep her.
“We’re going to get on this ride. It’s what you want.” He slid his hand over the curve of her ass. His heart pounded; his mouth went dry. “Like you want me to touch you. Say it, Delaney. Say, ‘Francis, touch me.’”
“Francis, touch me.”
“That’s right.” He put his mouth to her ear, and the scent of her nearly turned his knees to liquid. “When we get inside, in the dark, I’ll touch you. You’ll come with me, into the dark, and let me touch you wherever I want. We’ll have intercourse. You want that. You want to have sex with me. Whisper that, in my ear.”
She put her mouth to his ear. Compliant. “I want to have sex with you.”
Then she looked around, her eyes glazed, confused. “I—I’m meeting my friends.”
“No. I’m what you want, bitch, and don’t forget it.”
He kept her tight against him, and his head down as they held out their wrists for the scanner.
He nudged her into the car first, then sat close.
He’d chosen this ride for several reasons. The dark, the screams, the length—eight full minutes—and the small platform behind a wall of fake bones and severed heads.
In exactly two minutes after the ride began, he needed to get her out, behind the wall, on the platform, with its emergency exit just waiting for his escape when he’d finished with her.
The ride began with a shuddering descent. And the dark.