In Laymon's Terms

Jim stared at her delicate face, with its soft, smooth skin and upper class features as if she’d been genetically altered to appeal. However, there was something he’d just noticed in her eyes—they were a bit bloodshot and glassy. She’d recently been crying.

“What?” She had noticed Jim’s smile from the corner of her eye.

“Just admiring your facial structure. You’re very beautiful. Oh, forgive me, I’m an artist; I sometimes notice these things and spout off without realizing it sounds like a lame attempt at a pick-up,” Jim said.

Celeste’s hair was the color of straw, but looked more like dyed silk than dried grass. Now that she knew he was eyeing her, he let his eyes wander along her curves. He followed the jut of her breasts against the tight fabric of her white blouse. Long, tan legs projected from an aqua-colored skirt that fell halfway to her knees.

She gave him a glance, as if to survey his face, too, but then flicked her eyes back to the road so she could make another sharp turn. Though she had caught him staring at her legs, she gave no sign that she might be uncomfortable. She continued to surprise.

Another curve. Celeste took this one at a more conservative speed; maybe she’d decided to be more mindful of the cliffs now that she had a passenger.

“Deserted out here today. Guess everyone is at work,” Celeste said.

“Or school.”

She raised her brows, but didn’t glance his way. “Yeah. That, too.”

“You headed anyplace in particular?” she asked. Her eyes looked furtively in his direction as if his staring was beginning to unnerve her.

Jim breathed in deeply. “Wherever you take me. Ecstasy, perhaps?”

Celeste’s mouth twitched and she looked at Jim longer this time.

“Excuse me?”

Jim smiled. He could have played the game a little longer, made her feel more comfortable and then begun to strip her of her guard, slowly watching her unease grow until fear gave way to terror. But the need was overpowering. He could almost taste her fear; it was like a magnet drawing his libido.

“You heard me.”

With a weak laugh, as though she were acting like she got the “joke,” Celeste tightened her grip on the steering wheel until the color drained from her knuckles. Jim had seen the same reaction so many times before. They always fooled themselves into thinking it was some kind of joke. A trick played by a stranger who lacked social grace.

Jim lifted the right leg of his jeans and pulled out his boot knife.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Just drive, babe.”

“OhmyGod.”

“What did you expect picking up a total stranger on the side of the road? Geesh, you’re lucky I’m not some kind of psychotic killer.”

She swallowed audibly, her grip still tight on the steering wheel.

“I just want to have a little fun, and if you cooperate daddy’s car won’t get so much as a scratch on it. Who knows? You might not, either.”

She took the next curve even slower than the last.

“You can go the speed limit. Ahead about four or five miles is an access road off to the right. Take it.”

Jim’s left hand took the knife and he touched it to the thing binding her hair. It was a frilly, aqua-colored hair band. She jerked as he sliced into it, nearly causing him to cut her scalp.

“Careful, I don’t want to hurt you.” Yet.

He sliced through the band and her hair burst free. With his left hand, he worked the hair loose. It fell to her shoulders and looked much better.

“How could you think with your hair pulled so tight?”

She said nothing.

“Hair that beautiful shouldn’t be bound.”

Silence. Her face was the level of fear they always had just before they broke into tears and started pleading for their lives. The feminine face of terror was ravishing. Especially when they had such pretty eyes. Sometimes he removed an eye and held it in his mouth so he could fondle it with his tongue. There was nothing quite like a victim seeing Jim’s lips part only to find herself staring into her other eye.

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No, I just want to have you for a little while. Enjoy you. Then you can go on your way.”

“How do you know about this road ahead? Have you been there before? With other women?”

“Just drive.”

Jim slipped the knife between two buttons on her blouse. With a quick motion, he popped them off.

“You’re going to kill me.”

There were tears dripping from her eyes. Tears were good. They were inevitable.

He couldn’t wait to get her to the secluded spot he had used just last night. Of course, his previous victim wasn’t there any longer. He seldom left victims where he killed them. Why make things easier on the authorities?

Jim cut open her bra. Small breasts were freed, but the terror on her face was so distracting. Her breath hitched when she felt the blade trace the contour of her right nipple.

“Cold blade, warm heart,” he whispered.

Celeste was driving faster now. About a mile ahead, just before another curve, was the access road. Jim’s heart beat a frantic rhythm at the thought of getting her out of the car.

“It’s up there on the right, do you see it?” Jim asked.

“Yeah.”