Der Schädelring: Thriller (German Edition)

the more the little warning bells go off in my mind. It's almost Creepy. Why is he so afraid of letting me get away when he can have any woman he wants? And he said something yesterday that made it sound like I’m important to his financial stability, which is odd since you know how lousy reporters’ salaries are."
    “Maybe Mitchell is more complicated than you think. I hope it works out, though. You deserve to be happy." Sue glanced at her watch. "Hate to eat and run, but I got to get back to the office."
    Julia had a momentary urge to tell Sue about the ring she had found, but decided against it. She felt as if she was deceiving her friend, but she promised herself that she would tell Sue just as soon as Dr. Forrest found out. The safest place to share secrets was Dr. Forrest's office, not over a lunch table.
    They hugged good-bye on the sidewalk, with Julia promising to e-mail more often. Then Julia caught a cab back to the hotel. She rode the elevator up, distracted by the thoughts of packing for her flight. The hallway was empty and quiet, the business travelers already checked out. As was her habit, she glanced around to ensure she was safe before swiping her key card in the door lock and entering.
    The door didn't close behind her, even though she had given it a shove. Confused, she started to turn.
    A whisper at her back.
    Movement of shadow.
    CREEP.
    Ohgodohgodohgod, a Creep for REAL.
    Then a hand was over her mouth, encased in a glove that tasted of bitter leather. An arm snaked around her waist, pinning her right arm to her side and knocking her purse to the floor. The door slammed shut.

 
     
    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
     
    She tried to scream, but the glove mashed her lips against her teeth.
    The arm around her waist tightened like a boa trying to squeeze the life from a rodent.
    Her attacker loomed over her, a powerful stack of darkness. Leg muscles tensed against her, his erection pressed hot against her back.
    Not a Creep, a rapist. A goddamned RAPIST.
    Julia folded her leg backwards, hoping to kick the attacker in the groin, but he was too fast. Her heel struck harmlessly on the side of his calf. The attacker shoved her toward the bed.
    God, right here in the hotel room. Not in the damned alley or shadows or dark parking garage. Right here on clean pressed sheets.
    Her eyes bulged, dimmed by tears, as she fought to break free, to stand upright and not let the Creep on top of her. He grabbed the front of her shirt, jerked, and two buttons popped to the floor. One of the buttons rolled across the carpet and disappeared under the desk.
    This wasn't happening.
    This was not happening.
    Not to her.
    Someone else, not her.
    She nearly collapsed as the panic swelled in her throat and joined the gloved hand in suffocating her. The darkness was so tempting. She wanted to grab the edges of those mental shadows and pull them over her head until the rapist was finished. She wanted to disappear like the button had, to be swallowed by the cold, soothing blackness.
    God, where are you? If you’re up there, why do you let things like this happen?
    No answer.
    The rapist drew his hand across the bare skin of her belly, and the glove raked across one of the scars. The pain of memory brought Julia back, fueled a fury that had been building since she was four years old. She couldn't fight then, not against ropes and two dozen hooded bad people, but she could fight now.
    She drove her elbow into the side of the attacker. He grunted but kept his grip around her waist.
    He wrapped a leg around hers, trying to force her onto the bed. Her shirt was now fully open, the flesh goose-pimpled by fear. The man grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed roughly. She screamed against the glove, but all that came out was a soft, agonized wheeze.
    Julia twisted, evading that horrible, insistent heat. She reached her left hand to grab at his hair, but the man wore a covering of some kind.
    A HOOD.
    The man's breath was hot on her ear, rasping in a ragged rhythm. His lips trailed wetly across her neck. A shiver of disgust raced up her spine.
    The man pressed her closer to the bed. Her knees bumped against the mattress. She braced her legs as he grabbed for the waist of her skirt.
    When his hand was occupied, she attacked. She bent her neck down and suddenly drove the back of her head into his face. Due to his height, she only managed to hit his chin, but the blow gave off a satisfying crack.
    The man groaned and his grip eased slightly.