Shocking Pink. Erica Spindler
cadet and would follow whoever was stronger.
In this case, Julie would follow her.
Raven had decided that she and Julie would continue their late-night stakeout of number twelve Mockingbird Lane. They would watch; Raven would learn. And someday she would need those lessons to protect the three of them, to keep her family together.
Raven didn’t know when or against whom they would need to be protected; she only knew, deep in her gut, that they would.
It would mean lying to Andie. She hated to do it, but it was for Andie’s own good. That made it okay, she reasoned. A necessary evil.
Raven called Julie. And as Raven had known she would, Julie hesitated briefly, then fell right in line with Raven’s plan, promising to keep their activities a secret from Andie.
They agreed to meet that night.
13
After her family had all gone to bed, Julie sneaked out of the house to meet Raven. They had agreed beforehand that they would wait for Mr. and Mrs. X for two hours. Two hours hadn’t seemed that long to Julie then, but now the minutes ticked past with agonizing slowness. She could hardly sit still. It was as if someone had plugged her in and turned her on, and she couldn’t find her Off switch.
Her mind raced; her thoughts whirled. She thought of Andie, Mrs. X, her nightmare, her father. The devil. She was torn between excitement and guilt, shame and arousal. She worked to hide her feelings from Raven, though a couple of times she had caught the other girl looking at her, her expression strange.
Julie swallowed hard. She couldn’t bear it if her friends found out the truth about her. If she kept this up, they would. They would figure it out.
“They’re not going to show,” Julie whispered, then glanced guiltily over her shoulder, as if someone stood nearby, listening. “Let’s just go.”
Raven released a frustrated breath and lowered the binoculars. “It hasn’t been two hours. We agreed, remember?”
“I know, but—”
“Shh. Look, a car.”
Sure enough, a car rolled down the street. It pulled into the driveway of number twelve. The automatic garage door slid up; the car eased in. The door shut.
Julie’s mouth had turned to dust. She fought to speak around the knot in her throat. “Was it him?”
“Her,” Raven corrected, lowering the binoculars, frowning.
“Her? Where’s Mr. X?”
“Late, maybe. Let’s hang a minute, he’ll come.”
They waited. Five minutes. Ten. Raven shook her head. “Something’s wrong. If he was coming, he’d be here.”
“Maybe he was in the car, like hiding in the back seat.”
They looked at each other, then scrambled off the platform. They made their way through the wooded lot and around the back of the house.
They found Mrs. X. She was alone, blindfolded and naked. She stood motionless in the center of the great room, waiting.
Julie gazed at her, confused, then nudged Raven. “What’s she doing?”
Raven didn’t glance over, but lifted her shoulders in response, indicating she didn’t know.
Julie frowned. “This is so weird. I wonder—”
Raven glared at her, bringing a finger to her lips. Julie swallowed the rest of her thought. Minutes passed, and though she didn’t know exactly how many, it seemed like forever.
The night was sticky; their half-crouching positions uncomfortable. A mosquito buzzed in Julie’s ear, and she swatted at it, annoyed. Why was she here, bored and hot and being eaten by bugs, when she could be home, curled up in her comfortable bed? It was stupid. This was stupid. She was taking a big chance just being here. And what for? She opened her mouth to tell Raven exactly that, when her friend caught her arm, stopping her.
“He’s here,” she hissed.
Heart in her throat, Julie popped up and peered over the ledge. Mr. X wore a ski mask. He had a rope. He came up behind Mrs. X; he brought the rope to her throat. Using it, he tugged her roughly against him.
Julie brought a hand to her mouth, shocked and frightened. Aroused. As she watched, he ran the rope over Mrs. X’s body, caressing her with it, making love to her with it. Julie watched as the rope coiled around the woman’s neck, then slithered over her shoulders, her breasts. Then lower.
He used it as another man might use hands and fingers. He brought it between her legs. Mrs. X arched; her mouth opened, though Julie heard no sound.
Julie’s breath came in fast, shallow gasps. Her cheeks were hot, her nipples hard. She closed her eyes, struggling to get control of herself, her runaway thoughts.
When she opened them, Mr. X was binding the woman’s hands with the rope, roughly, yanking her arms behind her back. She didn’t fight him, didn’t struggle or try to break away. Julie didn’t understand. Mrs. X didn’t fight him, yet it looked as if he was scaring her, as if he was hurting her.
Did he own her? Julie wondered. Was she his slave, his property to do with as he wanted? Or was she in love with him, so in love she would give him anything he asked for?
Julie could understand that; she could imagine herself loving, needing to be loved in return, that much.
She was like Mrs. X.
Just like in her nightmare.
Mr. X forced her to her knees. Then, his intentions unmistakable, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection. Tangling his hands in her hair, he forced her to take him into her mouth.
Julie made a small sound, at once shocked and intrigued. Guilt and shame speared through her. She was wet. On fire.
Burning with shame. Guilt. Desire.
She ducked down, breathing hard, unable to watch another moment. Raven didn’t move. Julie covered her face with her hands. They trembled.
She was bad. This was bad. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined her face on Mrs. X’s body, the man’s hands, the rope slithering over her skin.
Andie had been right. They never should have come here. This was wrong. She was going to burn in hell, just as her father said.
“We have to go,” she whispered. “Raven, please.” She reached up and caught her friend’s hand and tugged. “Please, Rave. Please.”
Raven met her eyes, the expression in them strange, almost feverish. She gazed at Julie a moment, almost as if she didn’t know her, then nodded, not speaking again until they reached Julie’s door.
Raven touched Julie’s cheek. “It’s going to be all right,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure of that.”
Julie held her friend’s gaze a moment, then nodded and slipped inside, not at all certain of that fact. In fact, Julie had a horrible feeling that nothing was ever going to be all right again.
14
The next week passed in a disjointed, confusing blur for Julie. Her days were spent pretending to be a good daughter and a normal fifteen-year-old. Her nights were spent peering through the window of number twelve Mockingbird Lane, watching acts that alternately shocked, horrified and aroused her.
Julie lived in fear that her father would discover what she was doing; she struggled to deal with what she saw. One time Mr. X would be tender, even loving with Mrs. X, making love with her in the traditional way. The way Julie had dreamed of being made love to. The next he would be cruel. He would torment her with his indifference, he would make her crawl or beg. Those times, he would take