Walk of Shame

Amanda's hands clung deeply in his thick blond head of hair as his mouth burned a trail over her bare breasts and he blew lightly against her heated skin.

"Jake..." she whispered, her hips arching as his fingers hooked in the hem of her jeans. His tongue lapped circles around her belly button, sending her writhing as the button of her pants came loose and he worked the material over her hips.

In the dim light of his bedroom she stared wide eyed at the ceiling as she felt his breath on the exposed thatch of hair between her legs.

She so shouldn't be here...

Only two weeks ago she'd agreed to go on one date to him. Despite her rejection of his first advances, his green eyes and charming smile persuaded her otherwise. And he'd been so sweet... One date wouldn't hurt, so long as her parents never found out. Jake Hooper... her father would have a heart attack. Not so long ago the Hooper name had been all over the papers when Evelyn Hooper came clean about her alleged affairs with several state officials. A high end prostitute, they'd called her, and Jake happened to be her oldest child. If that weren't bad enough, Amanda's father was on the list of names she'd so generously handed over to the press.

None of it was true, of course. Even Jake seemed to believe that, and even seemed to have less love for his own mother than Amanda did. So one date turned into three, and then a few afternoons at the beach when she should have been studying in her dorm where her parents thought she was...

And she liked him, damn it. Forget she never meant to find herself alone with him in his one bedroom apartment. But then, that could be a problem. Especially since Amanda knew damn well that their budding relationship was doomed to go nowhere. In fact, she'd meant to break it off tonight. Gently, if possible. But now that her jeans were around her knees...

Reaching for him, Amanda meant to guide him upwards, away from her burning body.

"Jake..."

He took the pressure of her hands as encouragement and slid his bare chest up hers until his lips pressed her chin, her cheek, and then her mouth. His tongue slipped between her lips to touch hers and for a moment she was lost again. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, wrapped around him. His hand slid down her body to cup between her thighs and her eyes snapped open, her hands moved to his chest to push him away.

He smiled crookedly down at her, brushing her dark bangs away from her eyes. "Mandy..."

Pressing her hand over his mouth, she regarded him sadly as he kissed her palm. "Jake, wait..."

.......................

Twelve weeks later

Her fingers shaking as she looked down at the small, typed note she'd found on the windshield of her car that evening, Eve Hooper took a deep breath. She stared up at the rusting numbers drilled into the door in front of her. 2-2... and then a shadow where the zero used to be. Carefully opening her purse she slid the note inside, her eyes briefly halting on the shiny black handgun safely tucked in next to a half empty pack of spearmint gum and a wallet it three dollar bills and her identification cards.

Eve didn't even know how to use a gun. But somehow, it had seemed like a good idea to sneak it out of her father's safe the moment she'd decided to go through with this asinine idea. Of course, as soon as she'd read the note, she'd known she was going to go through with it. That's what desperate people did, didn't they? They met anonymous strangers in cheap hotel rooms.

And Eve Hooper was desperate. The last three months of her life had been complete hell, and if a typed up note suggested she could change that, she was willing to risk anything. She'd risk anything, anyway, for her brother Jake.

Six years ago she'd been a fifteen year old girl forced to hide in bathrooms of cheap hotels just like this while her mother entertained various men, claiming it was what kept them fed. Funny, Eve had always mused, since there never seemed to be any food around. Only the drugs and cheap wine that made her mother mean... whenever a man came over, Eve had learned to make herself scarce, knowing that if she didn't the belt would come out, and her mother would make her pay dearly for it.

Jake had been older, but still only seventeen, and had done his best to keep track of her, occasionally showing up with something descent to eat and money for Eve that their mom took as soon as he was gone. Eve never dared to ask him to take her with him when he left. Jake had gone from living on the streets to finding a job that paid enough for him to rent a small apartment. But the day he showed up with no notice to find his sister bruised and crying on the floor of the most recent hotel their mother had moved them into had been his final straw. He took Eve away, regardless of their mother's threats to have him arrested for kidnaping. Unable to provide for her himself, Jake had done the unthinkable and tracked down the father they had both been raised to believe had left them

To Eve's delight, they'd found a man nearly twenty years older than their mother. At sixty, Bill Hooper was possibly the only man who had ever loved the woman who'd raised his children enough to marry her. He told them in the first three years of their marriage, they'd been happy, but the day he'd lost his job was the day that Evelyn had left, only two days after Eve had been born.

He invited the siblings in, but Jake being as stubborn as he was to make it on his own, left Eve with their father, checking in every few days. She and Bill had gotten along well at first. She had no doubt that he loved her, though he turned out to be quite the strict father. He insisted she excel at everything she set out to do. He constantly watched her grades, set curfews, and was the only real parent she'd ever known. When Jake came to visit, Bill had openly attempted to develop a relationship with his son, and while Jake eventually became a part of their small family, he was forever independent, regardless of the consequences.

Before he turned eighteen, Eve's brother had been to jail twice, both times for petty theft, and then spent the first six months after his twenty first birthday locked up for selling drugs. When he was out again he'd finally agreed to move in with Eve and Bill to make an attempt at working towards a better life for himself. By then, Eve had graduated highschool and with her father's help had taken courses to become a massage therapist. Her hopes were that the job would help her work her way through college, as she'd decided to become a teacher. It was during her first year of community college that her mother had resurfaced, this time through the media as she made claims and went as far as writing a book about her liaisons with men in power. Bill had been devastated when photographs of himself and his children were scattered through the tabloids, most of the gossip aimed at Eve, who's resemblance to her mother was uncanny. The day she showed up at school and a fellow student had handed her twenty dollars and propositioned a blow job was the day she dropped out.

It was Jake who'd protected her from all of this, convincing her to go back to school and even using his part time job at a gas station to help her with tuition. She was half way through her second year by the time the media hype simmered down... and now this.

All because her brother had misplaced his heart and fallen in with a Governor's daughter. A governor who'd been slandered all over the press because of his own mother. Eve had told him it was a bad idea the day she spotted him with Amanda Chandler. But Jake had insisted he couldn't let her go, and when he'd enrolled himself in school only a week after meeting her, Eve couldn't bring herself to say the changes he was trying to make for himself-- and for Amanda-- were a mistake.

Until, of course, the evening the police had shown up to arrest Jake for the rape of Amanda Chandler. Eve had been heartbroken, and she feared the return of the media into their lives would kill their father, who'd recently recovered from a stroke. Amanda's word against Jake's was proving to be the biggest trial of their lives. The girl seemed hell bent to send him away, and Eve was equally determined to see him released. Regardless of the hype, she was convinced that her brother would never, ever, hurt a girl like that.

But they were due to go to trial in just a few weeks, and after the story had appeared in the papers, Jake's public defender was convinced that they wouldn't have a sympathetic jury. Desperate to help any way she could, Eve couldn't quite resist the note that read:

Need to talk to you about your brother. 8th and Hannock. Room 220. Come alone.

Startled, she'd thought about calling the police. She'd even driven by the strip of hotel rooms three times that morning, wondering what this person had to say, if she should bring the legal system into it. When she'd seen a back window perfect for escaping from as she'd driven away for the second time off the interstate she'd decided that she'd better not. For all she knew, this might be her only chance at clearing her brother's name.

So there she was, bundled in a pink sweater and her most comfortable shoes, knocking softly on the door of 220.

After minutes of no response, Eve nervously knocked again, harder this time.

"It's open", a smooth male voice sounded muffled from the other side.

Eve worried at her bottom lip. She'd hoped it was a woman, but in truth had wondered if it were another man, perhaps an angry man Amanda had screwed over in the past, ready for vengeance.

Deciding to be optimistic, rather than terrified, Eve turned the doorknob and let the door swing open a few inches, peering in cautiously to darkness.

"Come on in," the voice beckoned her again, more clearly now.

One hand on her purse to assure herself with the cool surface of steel behind the faux leather surface of the bag and her other against the door, Eve stepped in cautiously, a frown marking her brow as she looked carefully over her surroundings.

She'd been prepared for the odor of stale cigarettes and dust, familiar from her childhood. Stained carpet and barely sterile bedding. Instead she looked over the dim glow of a lavender candle at the small but tidy room.

The floral printed comforter was stretched tight over the queen sized mattress. The mismatched dressers were dust free, and the beige carpeting was worn but stain free. The glow of a soundless television mingled with candlelight as her eyes adjusted away from the summer afternoon outside, the warmth of it sucked away by the steady blow of the air conditioner.

Frowning, Eve searched for the one who'd called this meeting, only to find the source of him behind her when the door was suddenly shut and locked.

Her instincts urging her to spin around, she aimed to do so before a firm hand on her back, just below her ribs stopped her.

"Don't," he ordered.

His voice commanding against her ear, she could smell the scent of soap and a man's aftershave.

Barely able to control the sudden tremor that moved through her, Eve was surprised by how steady her voice came.

"Who are you?" she demanded as her hand slid once again over the cool surface of her purse and then under the flap at top and into the contents, where her fingers paused over the feel of cool steel.

There was a pause on his part, and her shoulders grew rigged as she heard the sound of a second lock. "I'm someone who has an interest in your brother's case."

"How?" she asked, wanting desperately to turn around, but the large hand on her tightened, warning her it may not be a good idea.

She sensed him shifting, his body moving in behind hers. She sensed his height, his closeness though he didn't touch her, and swallowed nervously.

"Let me ask you something," he said, his voice lowering a notch. "When you think about what blood runs in your veins... hooker. Rapist.... do you ever wish you could cut it out?"

Eyes widening in panic, Eve's hand closed around the gun, tore it from her purse. Just as quickly, a strong arm wrapped around her middle to pull her against a broad chest, his free hand covering her threatening one until she found herself with her finger on a trigger; his own over hers, and the barrel of her father's handgun pressing threateningly beneath her chin.

Cool, mocking laugher reached her ear as warm breath tickled her neck, sending terrified shivers down her spine. "Is that so?" he asked in response to her failed attack. The gun pressed harder while her hand resisted it. "I suppose... maybe it's easier this way. Maybe this is what would be better for both of us..."

His finger tightened on hers...

Eve sobbed when the trigger released, the gun clicked loudly. His laugher grew deeper, the gun fell away and without warning her wrestled both of her hands behind her back with one of his.

"I didn't think so," he mocked the unloaded gun. "Do you even know what a bullet looks like?"

"What do you want?" Eve screamed, her voice as shrill at she could get it. Her hope was to alert anyone... just anyone, who might be passing by to call the police she realized she should have gone to in the first place.

"What do I want?.... hmm, what do I want?" he mused, and she could feel his lips within inches of the curve between her shoulder and her neck as his free hand splayed leisurely over the flatness of her stomach. Despite his finger biting into her wrists the gentleness of his touch left her unprepared for the vicious tone his voice took on. "I want to see your brother as helpless as his victim was... but since that seems to be out of my reach I guess I'll have to settle for you. What is it they say? An eye for an eye... a sister for a sister?"

Blinded by her terror, Eve lunged herself forward, her scream caught in her throat, and he gladly let her until her arms burned and he spun her around. He flung her back flush against the door and she hit with a startled thud before openly staring up at him.

His height towered hers, and even in the dark she could see the shine of his stylishly cropped midnight hair and the shine of dark eyes. His face appeared sculpted; broad mouth below the firm cut of a straight nose. His shirtless body was stretched tight over hard earned muscle, the tight set of his jaw all too familiar.

He was at least ten years older than she was, handsome in his early thirties.

It wasn't the first time she'd seen his face. He was in the papers whenever a high profile case turned up. Murders. Rapes. Cooperate frauds. He'd made it into last years edition of most eligible bachelor, and more recently into a story about a loyal brother swearing to bring his little sister's rapist to justice.

Eve had never met Marcus Chandler face to face, and now wished she never had. He was the newest district attorney. He wouldn't be trying her brother due to his relationship to Amanda, but Eve had sworn she'd spotted him in the back of the courtroom at her brother's last hearing.

Her shock still getting the better of her over running into him here, her eyes widened.

"It's you..."

"It's me," he agreed, his eyes sliding from the shock on her face, down her body almost lewdly. "And you," he said, seeming amused as his eyes caught hers again, "are at least more fuckable than I thought. I thought you were supposed to look like your mother."

So shocked that her lips parted, Eve barely had a moment to process his words and try to scream before he was suddenly swinging her around, shoving her backwards until her body hit the firmness of a mattress and she bounced twice before she caught her balance.

"Screaming will annoy me, but won't hurt me," he informed her as he stalked towards her and lifted a knee onto the bed between her feet. Eve felt another scream bubble as her fingers came against something coarse and she found herself lifting a three foot stretch of rope so thin she hadn't spotted it before. He snatched it from her hands and before she could scramble away he was on her, his body boxing her in as she raked her nails violently down his unresponsive, bare chest. "No one will hear you," he said calmly when she finally did scream. He was, a little too easily, tossing her purse aside and wrestling her wrists over her head as his weight came down on her frantically kicking feet. "The walls are thin... but I rented out both rooms next to us. No one will hear..."

Eve barely heard him as she arched her neck back in disbelief to watch the rope twine tightly over her wrists, binding her securely to the bedframe. She screamed profanities she'd only ever heard her brother use before as she attempted to get a grip on her situation. She was pinned beneath his weight, kicking at air while her arms were stretched in a manner that certainly didn't give her the upper hand, and yet her blind tantrum continued as he watched her, seemingly satisfied, until his hand dropped over her right breast.

Eve's stopped screaming abruptly, not believing his nerve as she squirmed defiantly against his touch when his thumb brushed back and forth over her nipple until it hardened beneath the surface of her sweater.

"That's better," he said softly, the corner of his mouth turning up. She couldn't tell if he was referring to her hardened nipple or the fact that she'd stopped screaming. With his eyes never leaving her face, and his same finger relentlessly sliding over the most sensitive part of her breast, he continued soberly. "I want you to pay attention, okay? The next time you scream, I'm going to put something in your mouth that you won't like. Understand?"

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded, instead of answering him. "Please... please let me go. I'll never tell anyone."

She felt the heat of tears on her face, but he regarded her pitilessly, his thumb and forefinger suddenly clamping over her nipple and eliciting a gasp from her.

"I promise you," he returned. "I don't care who you tell. It won't matter by then." he leaned over her, shading the already dim light. "Now tell me you understand that the next time you scream, I'll put something in your mouth that you don't like."

Eve swallowed hard. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded slowly.

He seemed pleased, straightening himself. "Good. Now here's what's going to happen, bitch. You're not going to run from me, because I'm not going to untie you until I decide you've had enough."

Eve shook visibly beneath him, turning her body to shy away from the hand that had gone back to cupping her breast. "Enough of what?" she choked out. "Please, please..."

Marcus stared at her for a moment, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity over his features, and then suddenly and without warning, he moved off of her, watching as she immediately pulled herself into a sitting position. Shaking his head at her efforts, he reached for her feet and pulled her hard until her back was flush against the bed, and she was struggling against him again.

He lifted one of her feet, careful to avoid the other, more aggressive one, and slowly plucked off her shoe and peeled off her sock, leaving her small foot bare. He ran curious fingers over purple-painted toenails, and then pinned her ankle under his knee before he quickly grabbed the other, repeating the process.

"I wish you could have seen the look on my sister's face the morning your brother dumped her off in front of her home. Like she was trash."

Eve shook her head defiantly, the accusation angering her despite the circumstances. "You're wrong! He never..." she cut herself off abruptly when his grip tightened around her ankle and his eyes flew furiously to hers.

"You didn't see... but you'll know."

She froze, his announcement having the desired effect. Her eyes landed on his in disbelief, and he smiled triumphantly.