Ghostwalker 05 - Deadly Game

Mari in his arms, taking her with wild abandon, her body willing and receptive in spite of his roughness, in spite of his scars and appearance, had given him back his life.
    She had given him hope, and the doctor had reduced what they had together to something vile for a sick mind. Bile rose in his throat and he fought a churning stomach as he looked into Mari's eyes. This time he saw humiliation and degradation. She hated what Whitney and the doctor had done with their lovemaking every bit as much as Ken did.
    Rage had gone from shaking him to ice-cold, and that was always a bad sign. He moved to the next room and found the walls similarly covered, this time with a woman with an abundance of dark hair and light eyes. Floor to ceiling, in every room of the cottage, the walls held pictures of the same seven naked women. He recognized one as Violet, the senator's wife. Ken had never felt so dirty or sick.
    He found the doctor in his bedroom, lying on his bed naked, staring up at the ceiling and the collage of all seven women. The music was loud and the man hummed as he writhed on the bed. He never saw Ken at all, only felt the sting of the knife cutting into his flesh.
    "I'd be very still if I were you," Ken hissed.
    The doctor froze, lying rigid in his bed with the razor-sharp edge of the knife pressed against his throat. "What do you want?"
    "You're a sick son of a bitch," Ken said. "Does Whitney know what a sick fuck you really are?"
    "He said it was all right, that I could have my girls with me all the time." The man's voice was high-pitched and whiny. "He knows. Ask him. He'll tell you. He comes in sometimes to see what I've done with them."
    "Where are the original pictures kept?"
    "Whitney has them all. He has places we can't go and keeps the pictures and files with him." The voice turned sly. "He only shares with me."
    "Where does Whitney stay?"
    "If I tell you, he'll kill me."
    "I'm going to kill you right now if you don't tell me."
    "He has rooms that no one can get into on the fourth level, down near the tunnels." He looked up at the staring faces of the women. "Aren't they beautiful? They like me to touch them and take their pictures."
    Ken's stomach lurched, threatening to spill the contents. He slid the knife away and caught the man's head in both hands, wrenching hard, hearing the satisfying crack.
    Whatever legitimacy Whitney had once had, this house and this man were a testament to his growing lunacy.
    I'm going to torch the house.
    Damn it, Ken, don't do anything crazy.

    It's got to come down. I'll make certain it looks like the doc had a little accident with the gas, but this house has to burn. Because no one else was ever going to see what this perverted excuse for a man had done to those women. He was going to blow the son of a bitch into the sky, and when they investigated, they would find the doctor with his candles and matches and a loose gas hose.
    He couldn't look at the walls as he worked, feeling slimy surrounded by the images of the women Whitney had experimented on and allowed a very sick man to abuse. Who had stood up for Mari as a child? As a teenager? Jack and he had been in and out of a lot of foster homes and their father had been a rotten, jealous drunk who thrived on beating them, but they'd had their mother and then each other and finally a kind woman who had stood up for them when no one else would. His heart ached for Mari. He was going to be sick if he didn't get the hell out of there, his stomach churning and knotting in revulsion as he set the scene, careful to leave nothing that would indicate anything but an accident.
    A slow leak no one caught, the house filled with gas, and the doctor, cavorting with his music and candles, naked in front of his obscene shrines, blown to pieces along with his house, quite tragically.
    Get the hell under cover, Jack. They're going to comb the countryside when this thing goes off.
    I'll cover you.
    I'm going in. I need to get to her.
    Damn it, no. Jack snarled it. I mean it, Ken. Get your ass back here. You're not that dumb.
    I'm exactly that dumb. The thought of Mari locked down on that examining table, pinned like an insect while a sick pervert photographed her and touched her was more than he could bear. He had to get to her and hold her in his arms. It might be the biggest mistake he'd ever made, but he was going to her. She wouldn't be alone tonight.
    Jack swore, a blistering round of curses that Ken ignored. He went out of the house