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KND Freebies: Dark, steamy thriller MISDIRECTED by is featured in today’s Free Kindle Nation Shorts excerpt

In this twisted and steamy erotic thriller, the tough but traumatized Madison Reynolds is recovering from her assault at the hands of a vicious sociopath who gets pleasure from hurting and abusing women.

Can she regain her strength and even find love despite her life-shattering experience?

Now just 99 cents!

4.3 stars – 3 Reviews
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
Here’s the set-up:

This fast-paced and dramatic sequel to G.M. Rogers’ Due North is set in the small town of Iron Bay, where as the book opens the tough but traumatized heroine Madison Reynolds is recovering from her assault at the hands of Dane Buckman. Dane is a predatory, power-hungry rapist, and in this twisted and steamy erotic thriller we see him transform from a “bad boy” into a truly dangerous sociopath who gets his thrills from hunting and abusing women. Dane also has Madison’s family’s treasured compass in his hands—but will it lead him to destruction?

Due North—Misdirected is the story of how one young woman regains her strength and finds love amidst life-shattering events.

5-star praise for Misdirected:

Couldn’t put it down!
” …a tale of madness with a satisfying taste of revenge! Dane Buckman makes my skin crawl.”

an excerpt from

Misdirected

by G. M. Rogers

 

Copyright © 2013 by G. M. Rogers and published here with her permission

Chapter One

Jake ran his hands over Madison’s bare shoulders. He gathered her long golden hair into his hand and pushed it to one side, exposing a clear avenue between her ear and her collarbone. Jake peppered the crook of Madison’s neck with little kisses. His full, warm lips brushed her soft, pale skin, causing her to shudder. Goose bumps speckled her flesh as the fine hairs on her body stiffened in response. She shivered.

He locked his arms around her back, pulling her closer, her bare breasts pressing against his chiseled chest. Jake’s cologne filled Madison’s nostrils as she breathed him in. He kissed her shoulders, his mouth wide and soft, his lips trailing. Madison wanted him. Jake’s touch was captivating, his scent intoxicating.

Madison relished the feeling of his flesh against hers, his warmth washing over her as he caressed her, kissing her deeply. Jake’s tongue was pushing its way into her mouth as his hips pressed against the inside of her thighs, forcing her legs wider. Madison invited Jake in, her body language blatant with desire.

Madison clawed at Jake’s back, pulling him deeper.  He filled her, stretched her: the sensation was satiating, she had been longing for his touch.

Her hands slid down, grasping his buttocks, hinting that he thrust faster. Jake’s speed increased, his momentum unrelenting.

Soon Jake had shifted too far forward.

He pushed harder as Madison cried out in pain. His hips were digging into her inner thighs; a burning pain radiated through her groin as he inched his pelvis higher.

Jake was smothering her, her face smashed by his heaving chest. Madison began to hit him, swinging wildly at his back.

She was panicked. Her head pounded as her blood pressure lurched, its rise driven by fear.  She kept swinging until her hands were tired and her arms were heavy with fatigue. Jake continued to thrust, ignoring her attempts at deterring him.

Finally Madison was able to turn her head away, gasping for air from under his arm. She screamed out, her voice filled with terror.

Jake stopped abruptly.

He pulled back and looked at Madison. She was horrified.

“How can this be?” Madison cried out.

Dane was looking down at her with a menacing grin, a satisfied and twisted look plastered on his terrible face.

“What’s wrong, sweet tits?” Dane asked, his grin turning into a mocking pouty-face.

Madison started to scream as she backed away. Her knees were pulled to her chest as she grasped at the bedding for leverage, the sheets clenched in her hands.

“This can’t be happening, this isn’t real,” she yelled as she reeled backward in horror.

“HELP!!” Madison tried to scream. “HELP,” she tried again, her cries for help stifled for some unknown reason, only squeaks and whispers escaping her lips.

The alarm went off.

Madison woke with a start. She was awash in a cold sweat; her skin crawled in waves as the sound of her startled heart pounded in her ringing ears. She was still clenching the sheets, her complexion as pale as the sheets were white. She looked around, searching the room for Dane from the safety of her grandmother’s quilt.

Relief slowly washed over her as she realized she was in her own bed, looking up at her own ceiling; Dane was nowhere to be found. Madison reached over to turn off the alarm that was still screeching its morning alert. She took a moment to shirk the emotional hangover caused by this latest nightmare.

Dane was the bogeyman in all of Madison’s dreams these days.

Apparently being dropped from a cliff while looking into the face of evil stays with you for a bit; it lingers, squatting in your psyche like an uninvited guest.

Madison reached for the pencil on her nightstand to try and reach the itch that was aggravating the hell out of her from under the cast she had been hauling around these last weeks.

Thankfully it wouldn’t be part of her wardrobe for much longer; she only had a week to go before its removal. Aside from the constant discomfort of its weight and the persistent irritation of the plaster, it was a visual reminder of Dane’s recent presence in Madison’s life. Every time she looked at it, or struggled to live with it, she was reminded of Dane’s violence and the terrible acts he’d committed that fateful day.

Madison hoped that once the cast was gone, maybe some of Dane’s ghosts would go with it.

Madison spent a few more minutes lying in bed reflecting, digging to scratch the deep-seated itch, moving her feet around under her quilt and searching for cool spots in the bedding.

She explored the emptiness of her bed with her feet. It triggered a pang of heartache. Losing Badger was like having an appendage severed. Amputees often speak of feeling like the limb is still there—well, Madison could still feel the phantom presence of her little dog. Sometimes at night she still felt the weight of his tiny body curled beside her, his head still resting on her shin.

Madison missed Badger. There were no more excited welcomes. Badger no longer met Madison at the door, hopping and lunging, demanding his proper greeting.

“Looks like I’ll be depressed again today,” Madison frowned, her brow furrowed as she looked at a photo she kept atop her chest of drawers. The photo was of her mother and Badger. The picture was taken not too long before Madison’s mother fell ill. It was a photo that captured a wonderful family moment.

William and Elizabeth had just returned from a ten-day fishing getaway. Madison had retrieved the camera to snap a photo of her father as he arrived home with his prize trout. That was when Badger began his assault on Madison’s mother. Elizabeth had stooped down to the dog’s level so that he could be given his proper greeting. The moment her bent knee touched the ground the rascal began to repeatedly lick Elizabeth’s face with his lightning-fast, razor-thin tongue. Elizabeth laughed and tried to hold her hands up to shield herself from Badger’s slobbery attack.

Madison snapped the photo. She caught the whole ridiculous episode on film. William’s prize trout took the backseat to Badger’s hilarious assault of Madison’s mother. Elizabeth and Badger were front and center in the photo in their playful pose. William’s hand and the tail of the prized trout graced only the back right corner.

Madison rolled from the bed, using her good arm to help prop up her torso, allowing her feet to hit the floor with some balance. She took one more moment to glance at the photo before she commenced her morning struggle to get ready for work.  She didn’t have to work. In fact, her father insisted she take it easy, but she had to keep busy. Madison knew if she kept busy, kept moving, she wouldn’t have to think. She couldn’t be left alone with her thoughts; they were too much to bear.

Just as Madison got to her feet, her phone rang. Hall and Oates’s “Maneater” blared from the cell until Madison answered. “Hey, Luce,” she greeted, her tone stale and sullen.

“Hey, Maddie, how’s it going this morning?”

“Shitty,” Madison answered.

“Well, that’s an improvement over yesterday when you said, “Why keep going?”

“I guess that will be the bright spot to focus on for today,” Madison said in a very sarcastic tone.

“Let’s go to breakfast before you head to the store, we can meet at the Light House—my treat,” Lucy offered.

“No, I don’t feel like going out… people stare.”

People did stare. Iron Bay was a small community, and exciting things didn’t happen very often. Some people believed Madison’s story, that Dane tried to kill her and killed Badger, and others believed Dane, and thought Madison was nuts.

“You will have to face the world some day; why not today?” Lucy tried to be positive, persuasive.

“Maybe at lunch, it will give me time to psych myself up.” Madison was reluctant.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Maddie: you need to get back out there. I’ll pick you up at the shop, we can walk down to the restaurant together.”

Madison said goodbye to her friend and continued working on motivating herself to function.

Madison shuffled to the bathroom; her eyes watched her toes peek out of her pajama bottoms as she inched forward. The weather was already unusually cold. The morning temps were somewhere in the low thirties, and that was chilly even by Iron Bay standards.

Madison was stiff in the morning. Having to sleep in a propped position all night, the cast on a pillow, the pillow on her chest, really put a crick in her back.

She was sure the fall hadn’t helped either. For weeks it had felt like every inch of her was bruised. Every shallow breath and every minor movement had been painful for a while.

Madison stood in front of the pedestal sink, her toes curling against the icy tile as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was stringy and oily. She had bags under her eyes deep enough to pack a bathrobe in. She hadn’t tweezed or waxed, washed or primped: she simply no longer cared.

This once-attractive, vivacious young woman was now happily disheveled, uninterested in the attention of the opposite sex, basically uninterested in the daily routine of giving a shit about anything at all.

“You should at least shower; you wouldn’t want to offend the delicate sensibilities of the customers,” Madison said to her reflection, as though she were trying to persuade herself to care.

Madison forced herself into the shower, her casted arm hanging precariously out of the curtain while she struggled to wash her long hair with her functioning hand.  She stood in the shower, the hot water pounding against her back, washing away the fog of her latest nightmare.

Madison stood in the shower stall for a considerable amount of time, the steam billowing into the small bathroom, streaking the walls, and clouding the mirror. Madison turned the handles, closing the spigot on her antique fixtures now that the water was running cold. She carefully stepped over the lip of the rolled cast-iron tub, her feet landing on the plush white bath mat, red from the heat of the blistering water.

Madison leaned to her right toward the back of the door and snagged a towel hanging there from the day before. She wrapped her hair in it, swirling the towel loosely around her head, with only one hand to guide the terry cloth into what looked like a loose and askew turban.

Madison reached into the whitewashed willow basket under the sink pedestal for a towel to wrap herself in. She shook the towel, undoing its tidy fold, and clenched one corner between her teeth. She then reached for the other corner with her right hand. She tucked her chin to her chest, the towel still hanging from her mouth as she pulled the white cotton bath sheet around her torso. She used a twisting motion to pull the towel’s other corner and tuck it tightly, allowing it to hang from her frame like a strapless dress.

Madison stepped up to the sink and lifted the gauzy striped hand towel from its decorative bronze hook, its cream-and-gray stripes perfectly coordinated with the bathroom’s décor.  Madison leaned forward on tiptoe to wipe the steam from the mirror.

She cleared away the fog and stood, staring at herself in its reflection. Madison no longer cared to look. She had once preened, tousling her long twisted locks, pleased with who she was. Madison no longer felt that way. She felt ugly. She was disgusted by her own image. Dane had damaged something deep within her. She struggled daily to deal with what she let him do.

“How could you be so stupid!” Madison scowled, as she spoke to her reflection, her voice elevated and tinged with disgust.

Madison dropped the towel to the floor and went to her room to dress. She stood in the open wardrobe, shivering, unable to cross her arms for warmth because of the cumbersome cast.

She scanned the many garments, all so cute and youthful. Madison shut the doors, uninterested in donning any of the pieces hanging, looking so carefree. She went over to her chest of drawers and rummaged to find something more appropriate. She fished out some old jeans and her favorite camp shirt. It was a well-worn flannel. It had a warm palette of large plaid print, its fall coloring well suited for autumn wear.

The problem with Madison’s plaid-shirt choice was the cast. Madison would have to cut open the left side of the shirt and remove the sleeve to get it over the lump of plaster she was cemented into.

She had several other shirts that had already been altered to accommodate the apparatus, but they weren’t her anymore.

Madison looked at herself in the mirror and realized she had morphed. She was no longer the vibrant, easygoing girl she had once been. She no longer wanted to pretend to be bubbly and friendly. She wanted to do what she wanted to do. And that meant no more pastels, or skirts, or care of what was fashionable. Madison was going to put on her favorite camp shirt, and nothing and no one was going to stop her.

Madison pulled on her knickers and jeans. She pulled a bra from the top drawer and set it on her bed. She turned and headed downstairs with purpose. Her wet, tangled hair bounced along with her bare breasts as she headed down to the kitchen.

She came to a halt in the doorway. Her father was leaning incredibly close to Aunt Sara, as though they were having a deeply intimate conversation.

Aunt Sara was Madison’s mother’s younger sister. She came to town when William told her of Madison’s situation. A recent divorcee, Aunt Sara had limited attachments back in Wisconsin. Her husband of ten years had recently left her for a younger woman.

“Thankfully I never procreated with that jerk,” Aunt Sara would offer at the end of every conversation about her ex.

She had been in Iron Bay for over a month. Madison wondered why she hadn’t returned home already; clearly Madison and her father could manage by now.

Perhaps Aunt Sara was lonely and enjoyed the company. She was alone now, after all.

Sara Porter had been dumped by her husband because he started to give it to a girl twelve years his junior.

Sara discovered that her husband had been indiscreet with this young woman when she found a note from his paramour in her office mailbox.

Apparently Ashley (the little slut’s name) not only was in love with Daryl (the husband) but she was now with child. Ashley’s note read as follows:

Mrs. Porter: You don’t know me, or about me I’m sure, but my name is Ashley Jamieson. Your husband and I are in love and we have conceived a child from that love, who is due later this year. Please understand that I never intended to hurt you, but your husband loves me and will be leaving you. Again, my apologies,

Ashley Jamieson

The thing that was so hurtful about Daryl’s indiscretion was that Sara had forgone having children because Daryl hadn’t wanted any, and Sara was happy to please Daryl. Now she was no spring chicken, single at forty, and childless.

“Daryl is a son of a bitch,” Aunt Sara would enthusiastically offer anytime he came up in conversation.

Madison loved her Aunt Sara. She was in her late teens when Madison was born and was the source of many happy childhood memories. Aunt Sara took Maddie to the beach and camping, and spent many summer weekends with her when William and Elizabeth would want to spend time alone.

At first she helped care for the house and provide emotional support to William while Madison was still in the hospital. Eventually she lent a hand to Maddie as she struggled to care for herself, inhibited by her injuries. Aunt Sara brushed Madison’s hair and wiped her tears when all of Madison’s grief would spill over.

   This wasn’t the first time Aunt Sara had stayed with Madison and her father. When Madison’s mother passed, Aunt Sara stayed to help her brother-in-law, who was devastated by the loss of his wife, and comfort her niece, who had lost her mother.

Although Sara had lost her sister, she found relief from her despair by caring for William and Madison.

Sara had stayed; she stayed until it seemed as though Madison and William were back on their feet.

Well, here she was again, keeping a promise to her late sister, watching over her niece and brother-in-law. Madison found great comfort in having Aunt Sara around; she had never realized it before, but Aunt Sara was a great deal like her mother. It was like catching a rare glimpse of her mom. Whenever Sara turned a corner or Madison overheard her speaking from another room, it was like her mother was there. Aunt Sara seemed to fill a deep and empty space: it was nice.

It seemed she was now filling a deep and empty space for William as well. Her father had his hip on the counter’s edge, with one hand on the lip of the sink and the other clutching a coffee mug while leaning in to Sara, who was also leaning in toward him. Their body language was all-telling.

Madison walked right through. She didn’t care at this very moment what was going on between them. She was on a mission to get to the tool shed.

William and Sara drew away from each other as Madison stormed through the kitchen toward the back door. They were startled, as though they had been caught with their pants down, but they were also dismayed to see Madison skulking through the kitchen, topless, headed out the back door.

Madison opened the kitchen door to the enclosed back porch. The crisp September morning had filled the porch with quite a chill. She stepped out and shuddered as her feet hit the cold wooden floor.  Madison pulled a pair of wellies from the boot tray that sat beneath a row of hooks where a variety of coats and outerwear were hung.

Madison quickly shoved her feet into the rubber boots and pulled a scarf from one of the brass hooks. She swirled the scarf around her neck the best she could, given the handicap the cast created.

Madison opened the door to the stairs that led to the back yard and stomped down with purpose, her feet squeaking in the wellies as she clomped along. She covered her bare breasts with her right arm as she trudged, the scattered fall foliage crunching beneath her feet as she stormed to the shed through the back yard.

William and Sara were slow to react. They were both still trying to process what they had just seen.

William ran to the window above the kitchen table and watched his daughter barrel toward the shed, shirtless, in only a scarf and rubber boots. He turned and looked at Sara.

“I think she has lost her mind,” he stated, his eyes wide and his tone perplexed.

“Well don’t just stand there, let’s get out there and make sure she isn’t going to hurt herself,” Aunt Sara commanded, jolting Madison’s father into action.

They both scurried onto the porch, quickly deciding to grab jackets on the fly, the cool morning air a shock to their systems. They busted into the shed, causing the door to fly open with a loud crash as they frantically approached Madison.

Madison had her back to them. She was standing at the workbench; the sound of a saw squealing and whirring cut through the air.

William yelled at Madison, his calls going unanswered as the noise from the saw washed him out. He slowly approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Madison turned abruptly, the cutting wheel on the Dremel tool still running on high. Madison had a serious but purposeful look, her brow set sternly.

“What!” she yelled at her father over the noise of the saw.

“What are you doing out here half naked and using power tools?” William asked loudly, trying to project his voice over the squealing device.

“Ridding myself of some ghosts,” Madison replied as she turned back around and commenced sawing into the cast. Plaster dust flew into the air as Madison ran the saw’s small cutting wheel along the length of her forearm. She had to be careful not to cut too deep.

While Madison’s father supervised, she notched a seam into the cast.

“Aren’t you going to stop her,” Sara questioned in disbelief as her brother-in-law just stood and watched as his daughter removed the cast herself.

“No,” William barked. “Let her do it, maybe she needs to take control.”

Aunt Sara backed into the shed’s corner, sat on a stack of milk crates, and watched William watching Madison.

Madison pulled the saw’s plug from the wall and set it on the bench in front of her. She strained, struggling to split the cast with one hand. William placed his hands on her shoulders and gently guided her to face him.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice hushed as he spoke to Madison in a loving tone.

Madison put up her right hand and tipped her chin back and out of the way as her father grabbed the cast firmly on each side of the channel Madison had etched into its plaster. William pulled. The plaster creaked and groaned in protest as William pulled with all his might. He pried, his knuckles white under the strain as he struggled to release his daughter from the cast’s physical and emotional hold. William gritted his teeth, his face a shade short of crimson as he yanked.

Suddenly the cast gave with a crack and a tear. Bits of plaster scattered to the floor. Madison looked at her father’s labored face. Tears welled in his eyes as his glance met his daughter’s. They stood together, filled with overwhelming emotion. The reality of what they had both recently faced was finally being addressed.  Madison was shirtless, with her aunt peering from the corner as William and his daughter quietly came to terms with the reality of the tragedy they had both escaped.

William stood and looked at his daughter, knowing that freeing her form that cast had set something free in her spirit.

The light in her eyes shifted. The dim haze of helplessness and depression seemed to lift immediately. A new look washed in. It was a look of indifference. William optimistically viewed it as a new and stronger resolve.

”I didn’t think that thing was ever going to let go,” William laughed. His relief was not from the removal but from the weight it seemed to lift from his daughter emotionally.

Madison quickly shifted to a new topic.

“Did I see the two of you together in the kitchen this morning?” Madison asked as she rubbed her freshly paroled arm.

“We were just talking,” Aunt Sara interjected from the shed’s corner.

Madison leaned to the side, peeking around her father who stood between her and the view of her aunt.

“It looked like flirting, or even close intimate chatting,” Madison continued, giving her aunt an inquisitive look.

“There might be some feelings,” William blurted, not knowing how else to approach the subject.

“Can we continue this talk inside, my tits are freezing,” Madison bluntly announced as she headed for the shed door.

William looked at Sara and found she had the same look of awe on her face as he did. Madison was never one to be this forward or outspoken. She had always had a fun and direct sense of humor, but she had never been that forward before.  William held his hand out to Sara, helping her to her feet. He shrugged as he watched Madison trudge forcefully toward the house’s back door; she scattered leaves with every step.

William and Sara followed Madison to the house, hand in hand.

They dropped off their coats and shoes in the back porch before entering the kitchen. They found Madison leaning against the sink, her arms folded. She had thrown on a sweater she found on a hook on the way in.

“So, are the two of you… you know?”

William and Sara were speechless. They were unsure how to approach the subject. They looked at each other then at Madison.

“We seemed to have bonded while you were recovering.” William was once again flushed; this time it wasn’t from the strain.

“We wanted to wait for the right time to tell you, Maddie, we weren’t sure how you would take it,” Aunt Sara added.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think…. I think, whatever. It’s about time Dad got back on the horse. At least I like the person he has chosen.” Madison winked at her dad.

“You shifty devil, how long had this been going on?”

“Just a few weeks,’ William admitted.

“I think we felt the connection right away but we tried to fight it at first, worrying that maybe it was inappropriate,” Aunt Sara added.

‘Well, I think it’s great,” Madison said with a satisfied grin. “Besides, sound travels in this old house, the heating registers are all connected. You weren’t as sneaky as you thought you were.”

William and Sara stood in the kitchen, smiling with embarrassment at the thought that Madison already knew everything.

Madison walked out of the kitchen and headed to her room to finish getting dressed.

Her favorite shirt was still waiting on the bed with her bra. She dropped the sweater she was wearing to the floor and kicked it to the side. She slipped both arms through the straps with ease. Now the tricky part: she tried to reach behind and close the hooks but her broken arm was stiff. It had been locked in one position for several weeks and although large movements were simple enough: taking off a sweater, putting on a shirt… stretching to reach and bend in an awkward position was still a bit tough, but something was better than nothing.

Madison simply turned the bra so the clasp was at her belly, simplifying the hooking process. She took the shirt and pulled its left sleeve over her newly freed arm. What a wonderful feeling. She watched her hands work in unison as they buttoned the flannel. It was funny how an act so simple could suddenly become so profound. Madison knew she would never take anything for granted again.

She returned to her bathroom, anxious to finally do something about her hair. She stood in the mirror, still disgusted by her own reflection. The resentment she had for Dane and the fact that she let him get away with so much still stared back at her. Madison quickly ran a brush through her hair, another one of those acts now simplified by the use of both hands. She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs: she was anxious to get to work.

Chapter Two

Dane Buckman was bent. He was a dark and twisted soul.  Although he was never treated for mental illness, many teachers and caregivers had suggested to his mother that he needed some type of medical attention. Dane may have skirted therapy and meds as a boy, but he was, at the very least, a sociopath. Dane had always acted with his own enjoyment in mind. He cared not for the feelings of others and knew that he was always right, no matter what.

Dane was a mischievous, manipulative child. He was often in trouble at school and at home for seldom severe, but definitely devious actions.

Dane’s tendency to entertain himself with the discomfort of others became more frequent as he grew older. His already warped mind coupled with the constant abuse he sustained from his mother, and the lack of discipline from his father, elevated Dane’s desire for his perverted brand of fun.

Dane flipped the lights on in his garage. He ran the sleeve of his gray knit sweatshirt gingerly over the front of his Charger, brushing some dust from its obnoxiously yellow hood. He needed to make sure it was spotless before commencing his usual morning workout.

The fluorescent lights of the garage glinted in the paint’s shiny surface as Dane caught his reflection, using his fingers to correct a stray hair at his forehead.

He was eager to get the day’s lifting in before he headed to the mountain for a celebratory weekend.

A lot had transpired in the last few weeks and he was looking forward to a little R&R.

Madison had presented quite the challenge when she awoke in the hospital after the incident and started pointing fingers.  She blamed Dane for her fall at the lake and even told the authorities that she suspected he had sexually assaulted her once while she was passed out at her home.

Of course, she was telling the truth: Dane was responsible for the fall and he did assault her sexually, but he looked forward to the challenge of shirking that responsibility and persuading the powers that be that he loved Madison and had only wanted to save her.

Dane held his ground, sitting in the hospital room, a look of shock and disbelief across his face as Madison pointed at him, tears running from her eyes as she detailed the events of that day. She coughed as she sobbed, choking on her own fear and grief.

Madison went on and on, shaking, wracked with anger at the death of her dog,

Dane remained steadfast, his performance unbroken. He had everyone convinced that Madison was delusional, everyone except her father and close friends, who knew Dane had harmed her before.

The Sheriff’s Department took her seriously, forwarding her statement to the chief prosecuting attorney, Margaret VanHeusen. Ms. VanHeusen was thorough, a real ball-buster. She was intimidating, with her black hair twisted in a tight-up do that seemed to accentuate her severe facial expressions.

Regardless of Ms.VanHeusen’s dedication to justice, there were no eyewitnesses to the incident other than those who saw Dane frantically trying to save Madison. There was no conclusive physical evidence that pointed to anything other than Dane’s account.

As far as the claim of sexual assault… with Madison being unsure, and the lack of physical evidence, that was dropped along with the investigation into her claimed attempted murder. The prosecutor’s office explained that, “Without eyewitnesses or stronger physical evidence, it’s a simple case of your word against his.”

Dane grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge that was recessed below the flat screen and set it on the floor next to the weight bench. He loved thinking about the day he was cleared of wrongdoing. Dane smiled as he pulled off his shirt and flexed his arms in the mirror, knowing those were the very arms that terrorized Madison and put an end to his little problem.

Dane paid his respects to his powerful and capable appendages with a kiss to each bicep as he flexed, then retrieving the weights from their stand.

Dane lifted, admiring his form, admiring his angular jaw, admiring the precision with which he had duped not only Madison and her father to trust him once again, but the police and the prosecutor into believing he was innocent of Madison’s charges.

Dane pumped, curling each dumbbell, working up a sweat, adrenaline coursing through his bulging veins.

“You are incredible,” Dane grunted as he pulled the weight to his chest, winking at his fine form in the large plate-glass mirror.

“You are untouchable,” he assured himself, continuing to compliment himself in the third person.

“You deserve this weekend away, you crafty devil.” Dane grunted as he started another rep, focusing on his triceps.

Dane lifted and admired himself until he was ready to head into the house for a shower and to pack for his romp at the mountain.

Chapter Three

Mt. Hematite was ablaze with the reds and oranges of the changing fall foliage.  Dane took in the autumn view from the hotel window as he turned down the bed. The garish polyester bedspread and its floral print were in perfect coordination with the widely striped drapes.

Dane drew the drapes closed before he reached into his pants’ pocket to place its contents under his pillow. He stripped down to his shorts and climbed into the bed.

Dane reclined, his hands tucked under the pillow, where he felt for the items he had just stashed there. He felt for a condom and retrieved one. He pulled down the waistband of his silken boxers and gave himself a bit of a fluff, rolling his penis between his thumb and fingers, so he could apply the prophylactic.

Then he plunged his hand back under the pillow, feeling around for the compass.

He held the compass in his hand under the pillow, rubbing its smooth crystal face with his thumb, searching for the chip in its surface.

He closed his eyes and focused on the events that took place the day he received this little trophy. The feelings that the small brass treasure stirred were deep and powerful.

He continued to caress the compass, his urges building as he waited for his date to emerge from the bathroom.

Dane came out to the mountain to celebrate his victory over Madison and the legal system.

He knew he couldn’t trust his celebration to just anyone, so he had hired a professional. Dane didn’t want some whiny girl who would complain or get squeamish, so he trusted his fun this weekend to a pro.

Mindy was the best. She and Dane had partied before, and tonight he planned to fulfill his fantasies. Emboldened by his skillful dodge of prosecution, Dane was ready to complete acts undone and fulfill a latent fantasy. Invincible, unstoppable, and insatiable, Dane was fully prepared to take his newfound appetite and bite deeply into every situation.

Dane continued to wait for Mindy to emerge from the can. He pulled his hands out from under the pillow and decided to caress something else.

Dane brushed his hand over his silk boxer shorts, his arousal heightened by the sensation of the soft fabric brushing against his skin.

He kept rubbing, the friction of his shorts causing his excitement to grow.

“You better hurry up and get out here,” Dane yelled at the closed bathroom door. “I’m starting without you, there’s no tip at the end of the night if I have to start without you.”

“Just a minute,” Mindy yelled from the other side of the door, “ I just want to make sure I’m looking extra-special for you.”

The door began to open and Dane looked on as Mindy emerged wearing the sundress he had provided. Its cut and pattern was eerily similar to the dress Madison had worn.

Mindy’s hair was hanging loosely, with a beachy wave twisted through the long, light-brown strands.

“You need to go back into the bathroom and splash water on the front of that dress,” Dane explained.

“It’s chilly in here… but you are the customer,” Mindy sighed.

Mindy returned, the dress splashed, but far from wet enough. Dane jumped from the bed and wrapped his arms around Mindy, walking her to the sink, his erection jutting out, expanding his shorts. It was jabbing her in the back prodding her along.

“Nice pup tent,” Mindy joked as Dane led her to the bathroom sink, his penis stuck in her back like a gun at a hold-up.

“No joking,” Dane barked, his mood suddenly darkened.

Dane reached around her, forcefully twisting the handle, the spigot blasting cold water with more force than the shallow sink bowl could handle. The icy water sprayed on the walls and over the bowl’s edge, pooling on the floor.

Dane used his left arm to hold Mindy in place as he used his right hand to bring the cold water to her breasts, splashing her in quick, forceful bursts.

Dane cupped the pouring water and brought his hand to Mindy’s breasts, again and again.

Mindy soon voiced her discomfort, “Dane, it’s cold, my breasts are getting sore from the pounding.”

“Turn around,” Dane commanded.

Dane lessened his grip and held Mindy’s shoulders, guiding her to face him.

Dane ran his hands over Mindy’s hardened nipples, obviously stiffened by the encounter with the cold water. They were poking through the thin fabric of the dress, her entire breast clearly visible.

“That’s what I was looking for,” Dane mumbled with a low breathy tone.

Dane grabbed Mindy by her hair, pulling her head, arching her back, exposing her neck.

Dane pulled at the dress exposing Mindy’s breasts. Her nipples were still stiff, while goose bumps speckled her flesh.

Dane ran his tongue, hot and velvety, down the length of Mindy’s neck, straight to her erect nipples.

Dane pulled her left nipple between his lips, drawing it into his mouth. Dane sucked hard, Mindy expressed her discomfort by reaching for Dane’s groin.

Dane bit down, Mindy shrieked, crying out in pain. She struggled to pull away from Dane’s hold. Heat radiated though her left breast as the trauma of Dane’s cruelty took hold. Dane pulled back to view his handiwork. Mindy’s nipple was split on both sides, a small trickle of blood running along the side of her breast.

“Jesus Christ, Dane, not so hard!” Mindy shouted, as she gave him a dirty look.

“Sorry, just got carried away,” Dane smirked apologetically. “Just wondered what you tasted like.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to taste you,” Mindy suggested as she pushed Dane back and knelt before him.

Mindy pulled down the silk boxers now soaked from the splashing. Dane’s generous erection sprang free, its raincoat still snugly applied.

Mindy took Dane into her mouth as only a professional could. Dane arched, forcing himself deeper, Mindy’s professional mouth capable of accepting it all. Dane caressed the back of Mindy’s head, his hands entangled in her hair.

Mindy massaged Dane’s testicles as she relaxed her throat, bringing Dane even deeper, her bottom lip grazing the very base of his shaft.

Dane inched closer to orgasm, so he needed to intervene. He grabbed Mindy’s shoulders and eased her to the tiny bathroom’s floor. The small gray tiles were submerged beneath a puddle created by the overflow of the diminutive sink. Dane laid Mindy into the water, the cold ceramic sending a shiver through her thin frame.

“I want you to lay on your side, with your left arm under your head at the elbow.”

“I’ve had some weird requests, Dane, but that one is really bizarre.”

“The customer is always right,” Dane reminded his date.

Mindy laid down, her arm positioned as Dane had requested.

Dane ran his hands through the water on the floor, and then through Mindy’s hair, in an attempt to give it a wetter appearance.

When Dane had set the stage, he had one final request for poor Mindy. “I want you to hold very still, as though you are unconscious.”

“That’s fuckin’ weird, Dane,” Mindy said as she started to sit up.

“No, lay back down, trust me, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to act out a little fantasy.” Dane did his best to turn on his charm and smile his sweetest smile, putting Mindy at ease.

Mindy returned to her submissive position, left arm tucked beneath her head.

Dane began to run his hands over her, feeling her cold flesh, brushing the soaked fabric of the sundress over Mindy’s hardened nipples.

Mindy winced as Dane bumped the injured breast.

“Sorry, forgot.” Dane gritted his teeth with an apology.

Dane always treated Mindy with respect. This was a business transaction; it would be rude to mistreat her on purpose (the bite to the nipple aside).

Mindy went back to her limp and unanimated state; Dane was aroused. He could remember that day after Madison fell. How her nipples looked under the drenched sundress. The way the fabric clung to her unconscious body. Dane could still picture the way her hair floated in the constant push and pull of the shallow water on the point’s ledge.

“I’m going to move you now,” Dane warned Mindy, “keep still, stay limp.”

Mindy did as she was told. Dane picked her up and pulled her to him, her relaxed body flopping just like Madison’s did that day when Dane cradled her in his arms. Today would be different though, because today he would have his way with her. He didn’t have enough time then, but he did now.

Dane positioned Mindy over his lap, his right arm supporting her back, as her shoulders and head hung over his forearm. Dane used his left hand to pull up the dress, its wet cloth clinging to her body as he shifted it past her breasts.

He ran his hand over her, exploring her, enjoying the way her cold wet skin felt under his outstretched palm. Dane stopped; he hesitated, cupping Mindy’s bare abdomen with his palm. “I got ya… finished you off, you parasite, you will never see the light of day.”  Mindy peeked, concerned about the dialogue Dane was having with her lower half.  She closed her eyes. Dane often had bizarre ideas, his sexual tastes had often been extraordinary, so she figured this was just one of his games.

Dane ran his fingers over Mindy’s sex, making sure to press hard enough to feel its moisture.

Mindy was turned on. To her dismay, Dane’s strange, sick game was appealing to her as well. Dane shifted, positioning himself, readying for penetration.

Dane pulled Mindy’s seemingly lifeless body onto himself. His arousal had been heightened by this reenactment and had engorged his already generous instrument, causing even a working girl to take notice.

Mindy found it very difficult to hide her pleasure. Dane’s girth was filling her, reaching every luscious spot.

She held as still as possible. Dane pulled her again and again, an orgasm rocketing through her body, making her continued stillness almost impossible. Mindy shuddered, her legs quivered. She peeked to see if Dane had noticed. Dane was deep in thought. Mindy’s release went unnoticed as Dane fucked her. His eyes were still closed, his lips pursed tightly… Dane was somewhere else.

Dane relived that moment on the ledge at Lake Paramount when he sat with Madison’s unconscious body, aching to molest it. He hated her. He hated her and wanted nothing more than to fuck her unconscious body.

Raping her would have been the one act he knew would be most hurtful, therefore the most satisfying. To rape a woman, to violate her in such an intimate way, was the ultimate show of control and force. Dane had sort of date-raped a few girls but he never got in trouble, because in the end they all wanted it (or at least that’s what Dane thought).

Mindy could feel another orgasm building, Dane’s sizeable member easily commanding it. She wanted to move, to touch him or herself. Just as Mindy thought she might risk going for it, Dane came. He came, and as he did he pulled Mindy to his chest and held her. He whispered in her ear, “Fuck you, Madison.”

Dane’s eyes popped open. His trance was broken and he found himself suddenly and acutely aware that he had Madison to thank for his newfound power. It was Madison who had helped Dane discover the new depths of his darkness.

Dane had enjoyed his professional relationship with Mindy; he could do whatever he wanted. She never argued or got squeamish. She was a pro, but the kind of fun he was in search of would require a naive girl. A young woman whose experiences had been limited, someone he could dupe, just like he did Madison.

Now, Dane had been playing his little games of dominance with these stupid girls for years. He had spit on them and forced them into embarrassing situations and assaulted them every which way.

Dane’s needs were more complex now; his desire had escalated, making dates uncomfortable would never be enough again, he wanted more. Dane needed to push the limits. He had never felt the way he had with Madison, and he needed to find that feeling again.

Dane uttered Madison’s name just as he released Mindy. He scooted back, shocked by the sudden sense of self-awareness he was experiencing.

“I’m sorry,” Dane said, apologizing in Mindy’s direction.

“No worries, love, johns call me by other girls’ names all the time.”

Dane looked at Mindy, a vacant stare planted on his face,

“I need you to get out,” Dane barked.

“Alright, love, where is the cash?”

“In my wallet, take an extra fifty for the nipple,” Dane directed, his tone now flat as he stared at the bathroom wall.

Mindy took off the sundress. She draped it over the back of the chair that was tucked under the desk-TV stand combo. She threw on her own clothes and proceeded to rummage through Dane’s wallet for her fee, plus fifty.

“See ya later, hot stuff,” Mindy twittered as she headed for the door. “Maybe I can pretend to be conscious next time and do that thing you like with my tongue.”

“Get out!” Dane yelled, his patience wearing thin. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

Mindy scrambled out the door, giving Dane the finger while cursing him under her breath. “Good, you fucking weirdo, the whole corpse thing was a bit much anyway.”

Dane sat in the bathroom alone, his bare behind in the pool of recently splashed water, his thoughts reeling.  He had a hunger that needed feeding, and he would need to feed it soon.

Dane pulled the spent condom from his now flaccid penis, leaving it crumpled on the floor. Its freshly ejaculated contents oozed from its rolled opening and spilled onto the carpeting.

… Continued…

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Misdirected
(Due North #2)
by G.M. Rogers
4.3 stars – 3 reviews
Special Kindle Price: 99 cents!
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