The Killing Kind by Bryan Smith Read Free Book Online Page B

around the bed and scooped Karen up off the floor. She screamed again and flailed against him, battering the sides of his head with her tiny fists. If the blows had any effect on him, it didn’t show. He just grinned and let her hammer away a few seconds longer before cracking her across the face with the back of his hand. The sound was loud. And there was a crunch as the cartilage in her nose snapped. Intense pain made her cry out again. Another punishing blow stifled any additional screams. She mewled and blubbered, pleading for mercy, sounding to John like Nancy sometimes did when he put a good spanking on her for misbehaving.
    The sounds of her distress affected him in ways that were ironic given what he’d been about to do to her. Some primal part of him felt anger and an instinct to protect. He made a move toward Clyde, but the bigger man intercepted him, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting the knife out of his hand. Then, before John could even begin to consider defensive tactics, the man stuck the knife in his belly.
    And now John screamed, a sound even shriller and louder than what had come out of Karen. His attacker just stood there, grinning, those madman’s eyes conveying an avid fascination. He was studying John, tasting the quality of his pain and terror. John glanced down and saw that only the tip of the blade had penetrated his flesh. No more than an inch of steel was inside him, but it was more than enough to send shock waves of agony cascading through his body. Bloodstreamed down his belly and soaked his pubic thatch. The man gave the blade a little twist and John screamed again, but the blade penetrated no farther. The sick son of a bitch was toying with him.
    John tried to twist the knife out of his hand, but he wasn’t as skilled at the maneuver as the intruder. The man swatted his hand away and delivered a closed-fisted blow that hurt like hell and sent him sprawling backward across the bed. He hit the plush mattress and bounced. His head went up and down a time or two, and a fresh stab of agony at the center of his face told him his nose had been broken.
    Karen saw the wound to his belly and cried out in anguish. “John! Don’t hurt him, please!”
    The lean one cackled and leaned close to Karen, teasing one of her earlobes with his tongue. “Oh, we’re gonna hurt him, baby, you can count on that. Gonna hurt you, too, you want to know the truth.”
    Karen cringed away from him, but he held her close, holding her by the back of the neck as he rubbed his crotch against her bare bottom. His other hand roamed over the front of her body, cupping her breasts and squeezing the big pink nipples. Primitive instinct spurred John to action again as he rolled over and prepared to leap at the man attacking his wife. He was on his hands and knees, readying to launch himself at the filthy bum, when the other man stabbed him between the shoulder blades. John screamed and arched his back, hands clawing at the blade as it sank deeper into his flesh. He felt it scrape bone and screamed again. The big man rode him down to the bed, straddling him and pulling his head back by the hair. He felt the knife against his throat and knew he had only moments to live.
    He looked up at Karen through eyes misty with tears and felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time—shame.
    What he’d been about to do…well, it was an abomination.
    Unforgivable.
    The least he could do was tell her he loved her one last time before he died. It wouldn’t be a total lie, either. He really had loved her once upon a time. With his whole heart and every fiber of his being. He guessed maybe there was some of that feeling left somewhere inside him, after all. Recognizing this deepened his shame and broke his heart. He just wanted this over now. Nothing could be worse than this feeling. Not even death.
    Then he heard it.
    They all heard it.
    That small sound drifting in from the hallway.
    “Daddy?” The delicate, fragile voice was