The Unhinged Read online

  Under the control of a madman...with no way out.

  Aaron Dupree has turned his life around. After serving six years in prison for his part in an armed robbery, he’s released on parole. He’s gotten a job and met a girl. Things are looking up...until he’s pulled over for speeding—a parole violation—and blackmailed by the officer. He’s forced to do terrible things to avoid going back to prison.

  Aaron soon learns how truly deranged and sick the officer is as he’s dragged under a tide of ever-escalating horror. He thinks he’s seen the worst the cop has to offer until he meets the man with the scar, a vicious and twisted monster who lives only to deal pain.

  The Unhinged

  David Bernstein

  Dedication

  I’d like to thank Don D’Auria and the entire Samhain team. I can’t believe this will be my sixth book with the company. I’m truly enjoying this dreamlike ride.

  I’d also like to thank Sandy Shelonchik for all of her (much needed) assistance, and for joining me on this incredible journey. I love you.

  Chapter One

  The cop studied the woman from across the room. She was pretty, with flowing bleach-blonde hair, emerald-colored eyes that seemed to shine even in the bar’s dim lighting, and a smile that ignited something in his loins. She wore no wedding ring. Her thin lips were proportionate to her narrow nose. She had a slightly worn look to her, as if she’d been through a lot. But the way she carried herself revealed she wasn’t damaged. She was a woman with character. She was strong. She had a past, one he wanted to discover.

  He traced the outline of the small folding knife he kept in his jeans’ pocket. Knowing it was there excited him, but he should’ve left it home. Tonight was going to be different, normal. He wanted to have a good, old-fashioned time. Maybe he could even spark a true relationship with this one. He’d done it before, though things always turned sour down the line. It was hard keeping his secret, keeping his family hidden. Maybe this woman would be different. Maybe she could be part of the family. He was forty-two years old, not getting any younger, and his children deserved a mother.

  He approached the bleach-blonde woman when she went to the bar, and stood beside her. She smelled of lilac and vanilla blossom.

  She ordered a manhattan.

  “Fancy drink,” he said.

  “I’m a fancy girl,” she replied.

  She was quick. He liked that. “Name’s—”

  “I don’t care what your name is,” she said, holding up her palm. “You haven’t passed the first test.”

  He smiled, not letting this woman’s character flaws disturb him. The attractive ones were always bitches, at first, using their words and body language as shields to ward off the losers, the weak.

  “Let me buy you that drink and the next,” he said. He pulled a twenty out of his pocket, the pocket without the knife, and held it out for the bartender, a young blonde with tits ready to burst out of her half shirt. “For the lady’s drink, and whatever else she wants after.”

  “Well,” the woman said, “that’s very kind of you. What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t,” he said, grinning.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “Name’s Kyle,” he said.

  “Thank you, Kyle.”

  “You here alone?”

  “No.”

  Kyle felt as if he’d been struck in the gut by the woman’s words. She wasn’t alone? He’d watched her for a good ten minutes, and hadn’t seen her with a guy. Maybe her date was in the bathroom, or with friends at the pool table. Frustration rose within, replacing the embarrassment he felt, but he kept on grinning. He had to play this coolly.

  “Don’t fret, Kyle,” the woman said. She pointed over her shoulder. “See that group of gals over there?”

  He turned his head, having noticed them earlier, but he hadn’t seen her with them. “Yeah.”

  “That’s who I’m with. Just us girls. No males, at least not yet.”

  He faced her again, relief flooding through him like a drug. She winked, then sipped her drink.

  He really liked this woman. It wasn’t often he experienced the love at first sight thing. The last time his heart swelled for a woman upon seeing her for the first time had been two years ago. But that had ended very badly for her.

  Butterflies tickled his stomach. His heart raced. Sweat built along his collar and palms. He needed to remember who he was—the cop. Cops were unflinching, tough, sly and always cool—at least the well-trained, confident ones were.

  He wanted this to work out with her and hoped she would be the one. If she wasn’t, well, he at least hoped it would last longer than the previous woman who’d come into his life. He deserved to be happy, and not happy like he was with his work, but love-happy. The kind of happy that made a person do things he normally wouldn’t do, like buy flowers and jewelry, make breakfast and all sorts of romantic things. Once he was done with her, then so be it, but for now, he wanted to be with her. Truth be told, the way he was feeling, he could even see marrying this one. She was special. They were meant to be together. He knew it.

  He became the cop again. Always on duty, ready for action. He calmed his racing thoughts, wiped his hands on his thighs.

  “Aren’t you going to have anything to drink?” the woman asked.

  “Of course. I don’t go out just to meet a beautiful woman… But once I do meet that special someone, then I take care of my other needs. Like what type of beer to order.” He flagged down the blonde bartender, who had hurried off after she had taken his cash, and ordered a beer.

  He didn’t care much for alcoholic beverages; he liked to be in full control, but a beer or two wouldn’t hurt. “So—” he began, when someone slammed into him. His beer was jostled, foam bubbling out and over his hand. He spun around, ready to throttle the person, until he saw it was a female.

  “Sorry, handsome,” she said, taking a wobbly step back, then facing the woman he was talking with. “So, Kelly, who’s your friend?”

  Kyle’s anger immediately dissipated as he realized the drunken female was a friend of Kelly’s, the woman he was talking with. He thought Kelly was a great name. A wife’s name. He liked the sound of their names together. Kyle and Kelly.

  “We just met,” Kelly said, “and it looks like you might owe him a drink, you drunk-ass whore.”

  “No need, ladies,” Kyle said. “You have to expect to have a drink or two spilled when you’re at a bar. Especially when you’re hanging with such gorgeous women.”

  “Ooohhh,” Kelly’s friend said, giving him a sultry look. “I think I might like this one.”

  Kelly frowned. “Find your own.”

  Both women laughed.

  “This is my friend, Barbara,” Kelly said.

  “Name’s Kyle,” he said, holding out a hand.

  Barbara shook it, giggled. “Pleasure to meet you.” She turned to Kelly and winked.

  Kyle stood, waiting to see where this was going. It was obvious Kelly was on a girls’ night out. It was still early in the evening, and Barbara was already drunk. Barbara might be the annoying friend of the group; the drunkard who kept suitors away; the one who clung to the one the guys were interested in; the one to get in the way of him hitting it off with Kelly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw four other women at the table. They were all looking at him. They’d been talking about him and Kelly. He knew the game. They sent Barbara over to investigate.

  “This was supposed to be a girls-only night out, but seeing how handsome you are, and how single Kelly is, I think we can make an exception.”

  “I appreciate that, Barbara,”
Kyle said, feeling better about the situation, then opened his mouth and said something he knew he needed to say. “But it’s early. We can all have a good time, together.”

  “Not now we can’t,” Kelly said, shaking her head, and sent Barbara back to the table.

  “Well that wasn’t very nice,” Kyle said, taking a sip from his beer.

  “Believe me, it was.”

  The music grew louder and people crowded the small dance floor. Kelly and Kyle continued to consume alcoholic beverages and chat. Before long, they got up and hit the dance floor, moving to the beats and working up a sweat. When the songs with a slower tempo sounded, they bumped and grinded like two teenagers in heat. Kyle was by no means a professional dancer or naturally gifted with the ability to move rhythmically, but he was good enough to fit in on the floor and not appear awkward.

  Kelly was clearly buzzed. She rubbed up against him, bent low, then rose slowly to his face, their lips almost touching before she pulled away. She was playing the temptress. The tease. She gently kneed his crotch a few times, getting his member to stir.

  Normally, Kyle liked to be the one in charge, the cool character. He was strong-minded and powerful. Control was something he enjoyed and needed, but tonight, Kelly would be the dominant one. This was fine and dandy at the beginning of a relationship. The women always had the power, but once marriage came into play, the man ruled his woman, his home, and everything in it. But for now, for tonight, he let her be the strong one, the one in charge.

  Kyle felt as if he’d been running for miles. His lungs were working overtime and his shirt was sticking to his back. Just when he thought he’d have to tell her he needed a break, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the table where two of her friends were sitting. The others were still on the dance floor. His stomach fluttered again at the feel of her warm hand latching on to his, couple-like. When they reached the table, she let go and he felt his stomach drop. There was definitely a connection between them.

  He was acting like a juvenile in love, and in a way he liked it, but it also made him feel like throwing up. He was disgusted with himself. But Kelly was meant for him, and he had to play the game. His emotional state was out of control, but he was okay with that for now. He had to be. It was how the mating game was played.

  Kelly grabbed a drink that was sitting in front of her and downed it. It hadn’t been hers, but she didn’t care. She was drunk, letting loose, wild. He forced a laugh and smiled, even though he wasn’t pleased with how she was behaving. But messing with a woman while she was out with her friends, surrounded by backup, wasn’t a smart thing to do. He needed to go with the flow, be an off-duty cop, even though police officers were always on call.

  “C’mon,” she said, and pulled him out of his seat. The electricity he’d felt when they first touched was back. He hurried to keep up with her.

  They made their way across the bar, moving around people and tables. Skirting the dance floor, they wound up in a far corner behind an unplugged jukebox. Since nine o’clock, a DJ had been playing the music and hyping up the crowd.

  Kelly put her arms around his neck. They locked lips, groping and pawing each other like horny teenagers. She slid a hand into his jeans and rubbed him. He stiffened and moaned.

  “You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” she said, and pulled her hand free. “And you passed my final test.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “The size of the snake in your pants.”

  She was a wild woman for sure. Maybe letting loose for a night, at least he hoped so. He didn’t want to have to train her the hard way.

  She grabbed his hand and shoved it under her skirt. He pulled it up a little and felt her mound of pubic hair through her panties, then slid a few fingers under the soft fabric and entered her. She was slippery with moisture, and breathed heavily into his ear as she nibbled on it.

  “You want to do this here?” he asked as their mouths met. They kissed. She moaned. He slid his fingers out of her and gently massaged her clit as their tongues mingled. Her breath came in heavy bursts until she finally pulled his hand from her panties.

  She rolled her eyes and giggled. “I can’t believe I just did that. As much as I want this, we can’t.” She paused, looked into his dark eyes. “At least not here. Too many people.”

  Good, he thought. She’s not a total whore.

  “So let’s get the hell out of here,” he suggested.

  “Okay, but I can’t just leave my girls.”

  “They’ll understand… You met a really nice guy who wants to get to know you better.”

  She smiled, giggled again, then said, “Okay. Let me just say bye.”

  They went back over to the table. Kelly’s friends were all present, sipping their drinks and laughing. Barbara pushed out a chair, and Kelly sat.

  “Where’ve you two been?” Barbara asked.

  Kyle stood behind Kelly and forced a smile, hoping his reddening face wasn’t giving anything away. He was fuming on the inside. His and Kelly’s moment was private.

  “We were, um, talking,” Kelly said.

  Kyle was relieved. When it came down to it, Kelly was a decent, well-mannered woman, it seemed, engrained with some old-fashioned values. He was glad she kept their little encounter private. Once they were married, Barbara, and probably her other friends, would be off the table, gone and forgotten. There was no way he was going to allow his wife to hang out with a bunch of women who enjoyed getting wasted and looking for a quick fuck. Kelly was better than them, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

  “We’re going to be leaving,” Kyle said, bluntly.

  Everyone at the table stopped what they were doing and looked at her, then at Kyle.

  “Not without trying this,” Barbara said, sliding a fluorescent green-colored drink across the table to Kelly.

  Kelly picked up the drink and took a sip. “Ooh, that’s good,” she said, and drank more.

  Kyle felt his blood boil. He took a deep breath and forced a smile. He’d been so close to leaving with her, getting her all to himself. He’d met the perfect woman, who, unfortunately, was accompanied by a pack of hyenas. He thought they’d want her to meet a nice, handsome man. They should’ve been happy for her, wanted her to leave. Kelly’s friends weren’t really friends after all. No, they were the type of people who kept her down, didn’t want her to be happy. She was so much better than them, and it truly pissed him off that she didn’t know it.

  He’d never get her away from them, at least not until later, when they were all ready to call it a night. If he tried to force the issue now, his bad side might show. He couldn’t let that happen, not yet.

  He continued to smile, and thought about life with Kelly, and how she would be great for him and his kids. His smile was no longer forced. He needed to continue to play the mating game. Kelly was worth it. And if nothing else, it was good practice.

  Kelly turned around in her chair and held up the drink. “Try it, Kyle, it’s soooooo gooooood.”

  He took a sip and he had to fight not to cringe. The beverage was awful, like sour apple mixed with banana and strawberries. The urge to spit was strong, but he swallowed the dastardly concoction and smiled. “Not bad,” he lied, and handed the drink back to Kelly, wishing he had a beer to wash his mouth out with. He hated fruity alcoholic drinks. They were for women.

  “Pull up a chair, hun,” Kelly said to him.

  The last thing he wanted to do was sit with these women, but he reached for an unused chair at the table next to him and squeezed next to Kelly. He focused on being the nice guy, boyfriend material, and kept the cop away, for now. Cops didn’t fit in all the time.

  Sitting and chatting was brutal, acting like he gave a shit. He ordered another beer and nursed it over the next hour. He faked laugh after laugh, pretending to enjoy his time and beer, even when the latter grew piss-warm.

/>   Kyle was always running into different kinds of people and the acts they put on. He wasn’t immune to such things, having had to put on an act or two on numerous occasions, especially when he needed to be the serious, strong-minded, no-nonsense cop. Officers had a certain persona, at least the feared ones, and he liked to live up to it. Like most of society, he was a pretender when in the public eye. A good performance was essential to his job.

  The world was full of phonies, and, just like the movies, made up of different scenes and acts. No one was their true self, at least not in public, and almost never when in the presence of others, save family. But that too required a degree of disingenuousness, for no one wanted their loved ones to know the truth about everything. It was only when someone was alone that they were their true self. Of course, there were other times when a person could be their true self while in the presence of others. When an individual had power over another, could set fear into a person’s soul, that was when the true self could emerge, like for Kyle when he pulled someone over for speeding, or cornered a baddie and had his gun pointed at their face.

  In the so-called real world, during everyday life, people wore masks, disguises, pretending to be happy, sad, mean, straight, gay, interested, disinterested. People pretended to be happy when they ran into old acquaintances, when, truly, both parties were judging each other the entire time, seeing how the kids had turned out, if there was a divorce, what kind of pain and suffering the person experienced in life, or lying about how great their lives were. It was polite to say things like “it’s so good to see you” or “we should get together”. Kyle never understood why such words were exchanged between people who didn’t give a damn about one another. It was all lies to fill an uncomfortable void.

  Kyle hated that shit. He wished more people would be honest with themselves. Pain was a truth revealer. Inflicting it brought out a person’s true intentions, showed how they were really feeling. There was no hiding from pain.

  As a cop, Kyle saw the gamut of bullshit, the pretenders, the pretty girls who fluttered their eyelashes and unbuttoned their tops, showing a little, sometimes a lot, of cleavage, thinking it would help them get out of a ticket. He hated it when people said they had no idea how fast they were going. Of course they did. And he hated it even more when they feigned surprise when he told them. And he utterly despised it when people acted so damn cordial, as if they were always polite. From little old ladies to young punks who were nothing but spoiled little brats or drug-smoking dirtbags. He hated all these people, but they were a part of society, and being a cop, he had to play along, at least until he was with family or in his home.