The only thing Allison Reeves wanted to do was soak in a hot bath.<br/><br/>A three day weekend provided the light at the end of the 12-hour shift tunnel for the soon-to-be 29 year-old redheaded nurse. The long shift followed six straight eight hour ones. She was ready and deserving of 72 hours off. Tuesday was a million miles away.<br/><br/>She was so sick of being in her scrubs that she changed out of them at Garden City Heights Hospital, where she worked in the ER and post-op. It was a warm July evening so Allison threw on a white tank top, black yoga pants that hugged her shapely legs down to the middle of her calves and purple flip flops.<br/><br/>Her finger and toenails were painted a matching dark purple. Allison, despite her work and all the hand washing she did, nonetheless prided herself on her manicured hands. She creamed her hands several times a day to keep them moisturized and ahead of all the perils that frequent hand washing could do to the skin.<br/><br/>Her 2011 Lexus pulled into the driveway of her modest, three bedroom ranch house in the nearby suburb of Hillsdale.<br/><br/>It was a shade past 9:00; dusk in July.<br/><br/>With a heavy sigh, the nurse hefted her shoulder bag, which included her dirty scrubs in a separate plastic bag, and padded to the front door. She checked the mailbox and in looking at the various pieces of mail, she didn't sense or hear the man approaching her.<br/><br/>There would be no hot bath.<br/><br/>Allison's life was about to be fucked.<br/><br/>-<br/><br/>He was a good shadow in the coming night. Perhaps not unassuming, with broad shoulders swinging over a long body, but it is hard to be off-putting when you wear your malice like a badge on handsome details. His eyes weren't confused about his intentions. Primal man with contemporary beauty. Girls liked to think he was dangerous in a pleasant way, the kind that fit well into likenesses. It wasn't by any art that Rade Lowell was a threat, and maybe their hearts suspected it, but their eyes and the boil in their blood could out-sing that old kind of warning.<br/><br/>He'd just come from a house where he'd perhaps been a bit rough with the latest soul that tried to attach to his. He'd reciprocated physically, and when she'd begged him, he'd been rougher about it. Darling Rebecca with the great, bulbous mementos. She liked for him to sleep against them, her pride. But she'd adored his hands around her windpipe too much, from his training, and even insisted with her expression and clawing fingers he continue, until her wrists were lax and her mouth was frozen open in her last pleasure.<br/><br/>Black hair and green eyes will do that to other people. Contrasts were: dark thoughts on his bright skin, red lips around midnight words. He'd been as innocent as any boy is, with mother's love, and then his smell and his pattern of motion had entranced the world. He was simply playing, still.<br/><br/>Rade had been paying with paper and watched things on rented screens. Paper runs out when troubles rushes in. He'd had a skirmish and there were two uniforms soaking on concrete when it hadn't rained for days.<br/><br/>So now the hot evening was hosting his pretty silhouette. He'd not been waiting for her until she arrived. All her limbs were perfect, and the angle of her door was favorable to stealth. A light shirt hung over his tanktop, shades of blue and gray. Mauled jeans. His distress was intentional so that his inspirations moved better. There was something about his stride. She wouldn't know.<br/><br/>He locked her mouth in a big hand when she'd turned her key. Her hair smelled pleasant, personal oils, honest. He took the time to keep her still, other arm wrapped around her like they were familiar. "You're going to be my hostess, and I'm going to make you shiver." he said before sliding them both over the threshold and pushing the door closed with his shoe.<br/><br/>He slid down against the door, unlocked, and let her sit between his bent legs. Red was a good color on her, and the freckles were artistic. He couldn't wait to upset and sooth her. His hand moved up slightly, which not only stole her speech, but eclipsed her nose. Her breaths were only in her lungs now. He needed to teach her severity. The other arm closed tighter around her arms and chest, to make her feel safe while she was starting to die.