Pledging to Die (An FBI/Romance Thriller Book 11)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      
P
ledging
t
o
D
ie

                
By Morgan Kelley

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Morgan Kelley
LLC

All rights reserved. Without limiting rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, introduced into a retrieval system,

distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means,

including without limitation photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief

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of the publisher is illegal and is punishable by law. Please

purchase only authorized editions and do not participate

in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable

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For permission email
 
[email protected]

 

 

 

Content Advisory:
 
This book is intended for mature audiences 18 + and contains graphic violence, explicit sexual activity and disturbing imagery

 

 

©
Copyright 2015 cover photo Cover art by Rachel Zellers for Morgan Kelley LLC

 

Other works by Morgan Kelley:

 

 

Standalone Thrillers

 

The Junction 

 

Serial Sins   

 

The Blood Betrayal

 

 

FBI Romance Series

 

The Killing Times (Book 1)

 

Sacred Burial Grounds (Book 2)

 

True Love Lost (Book 3)

 

Deep Dark Mire (Book 4)

 

Fire Burns Hot (Book 5)

 

Darkness of Truth (Book 6)

 

Devil Hath Come (Book 7)

 

Consumed by Wrath (Book 8)

 

Redemption is Here (Book 9)

 

Dead Shall Speak (Book 10)

 

Pledging to Die (Book 11)

 

 

 

 

 

Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Series

 

Celestia is Falling (1)

 

Vegas is Dying (2)

 

Christmas is Killing (3)

 

Love is Bleeding (4)

 

Heaven is Weeping (5)

 

 

 

Littlemoon Investigations

 

Blood Red Rage (Book 1)

 

Lost & Broken (Book 2)

 

Unthinkable Games (Book 3)

 

 

 

The Carter Chronicles Trilogy

 

Sinner Repent (Book 1)

 

Sinner Realized (Book 2)

 

Sinner Reborn (Book 3)

 

 

 

The Harcourte Vampyre Society series

 

Dangerous Revelations (1)

 

Dangerous Choices (2)

 

Dangerous Misery (3)

 

 

 

Behind Closed Doors Anthology

 

Illegal Fantasies ~ Behind Closed Doors (1)

 

Romance Under Arrest ~ Behind Closed Doors (2)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        ~~~~       About the Author    ~~~~

Morgan Kelley lives in the beautiful Pocono Mountains with her husband and two children. After attending college at Penn State University and studying Criminal Justice, Morgan knew her only true passion in life would be murder and books.  She put them both together and began her career as a writer.  Other than books and writing, you can find Morgan hanging out in her garden and digging in the dirt.

 

Her other works include: The Junction, Serial Sins, The Blood Betrayal, The Killing Times (1), Sacred Burial Grounds (2), True Love Lost (3), Deep Dark Mire (4), Fire Burns Hot (5), Darkness of Truth (6), Devil Hath Come (7), Consumed by Wrath (8), Redemption is Here (9), Dead Shall Speak (10), Pledging to Die (11), Blood Red Rage (1) Lost & Broken (2), Unthinkable Games (3), Sinner Repent (1), Sinner Realized (2), Sinner Reborn (3), Celestia is Falling (1), Vegas is Dying (2), Christmas is Killing (3), Love is Bleeding (4), Heaven is Weeping (5), Dangerous Revelations (1), Illegal Fantasies (Anthology 1), and Romance Under Arrest (Anthology 2)

 

Please feel free to email her at
[email protected]
, or visit her blog at
www.morgankelley.blogspot.com
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes you have to stand up to Fate and teach her who’s the boss…

 

Broderick Seaton, make your move…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

It was all too easy.

Never was there a time where hunting down a victim and killing her was so stress free. This was almost a sin.

They made it as difficult as taking candy from babies.

From the shadows along the walkway, he watched, making sure that he disappeared into the darkness. Yes, it was time once more to take what was needed.

There was guilt, but what could he do?

Deep down, there was such need that nothing else would wash it away. It clung to him sickly, making all he touched tainted with the ugliness that he tried so hard to keep hidden.

He craved them.

The pretty party girls were the only way he could keep his head above water. They went to the fraternity to find something, and when they did, he found something too.

It was copasetic.

They wanted to run wild behind the hallowed doors of the university. They drank, smoked, and fornicated like there was no tomorrow, and for some of them—there wasn’t.

First, he was going to steal their lives. When he was done, then he’d take something even more precious.

But alas, they shouldn’t fear. He was giving them immortality. The pretty girls in their harlot outfits were going to be offered so much more.

They were cherished.

This whole thing was a gift, and they were lucky.

The second his blade kissed their petal soft skin, they were marked as one of his. Not now, not tomorrow, but one day, they’d be remembered with such fondness for what they’d given.

Death.

In the end, he’d be remembered too.

He was salvation.

It obsessed him, and now it consumed them. There was no escaping it. With claws so vicious, it tethered him to the task at hand. He was helpless to escape it.

After all, he began all this, and he was prisoner to the lure. While they would be his victims, they weren’t alone. He was captive too. So much pulled him in that neither the logic, nor the guilt could set him free.

Nothing but death itself could release him from the hell on Earth that he had created.

For now, he had to keep going.

Someone had to do it.

Unfortunately, that someone was him.

The silence of the night was broken by the staggering footsteps of someone coming his way. He could hear her walking right toward the trap. There was very little hesitation as she stumbled through the shadows, unaware of what was coming.

Death was waiting.

Lurking.

Prowling.

In the darkness, it sat poised and ready to strike. By his hand, her life would come to an end. She’d be sacrificed for something so much bigger than she could ever understand.

God help his blackened soul, but she was precious to him, and he needed her.

As the footsteps paused, he carefully listened, making sure that no one was following behind her.

She had to be alone.

This would only work if no one followed.

If she had company, he would have to pack up and leave for the night. There could be no mistakes. If there were, it would all be ruined. Not only would there be jail, but there would also be the electric chair, and he knew it.

No, that couldn’t happen.

He’d take his life before he’d let anyone find the truth. Then he could live on forever too.

In all their memories, he’d still be there, lurking, saving, and doing what had to be done.

From his position, he couldn’t get a clear visual on her, but he could hear her.

She was vomiting.

He shook his head. Honestly, he wasn’t shocked at her being sick. Leaving Beta Phi Ti, their parties were notorious for boozing, drugging, and sexual exploits. Apparently, the university looked the other way, believing boys would be boys. No one complained, so no harm was done.

Until tonight.

Until now.

In a few minutes, there would be plenty of harm—
to her
.

When he heard the footsteps once more, seeing her off in the distance, he stepped closer to the edge of the shadows. Now he’d grab her while he could. The booze, drugs, and sexual haze would dull her senses, and she wouldn’t be able to fight. If he was lucky, she’d pass out in his arms.

Then the fun could begin.

Or was that continue?

He was already enjoying himself.

As for her, well, she’d already had plenty of fun and her appearance showed it. The skimpy skirt, barely covering her nether regions, was askew, she was wearing only one shoe, and her makeup was smeared from the evening’s conquests. It appeared that fun was had by all in the frat house.

Yes, she was well used.

And that was okay.

For what he had in mind, it didn't really matter. Sex, or a good time, wasn’t what he wanted from her. He didn't mind picking a slut fresh from the sexual frenzy, and that was obviously what had happened that night.

She had a purpose, and he had a job to do.

When she was up close, he could see the tears on her cheeks. It was clear that she was distressed.

There was guilt again as wave after wave of it rushed through him. This was wrong.

She was a nice girl.

She was someone’s child.

She was…his.

There could be no turning back, since the ends justified the means.

As she lurched toward the grass to vomit some more, he made his move. Quickly, he struck, taking her out with one blow to the back of the neck.

Immediately, she fell face down into the grass, her breathing labored. There was a sick gurgling as she began aspirating on her own vomit.

It was done.

Now he needed to get her taken care of, and fast.

Dragging her back into the shadows, he used the moonlight to do his business.

It was fast.

It was effective.

It was done
.

Then he gave her the honor she deserved, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before he rolled her up in the generic blue tarp. He stole it from maintenance, and they’d never know it was gone. There was no way he could take her someplace else, especially with a campus full of partying and sleeping students.

It was far too daring and dangerous.

No, this would have to do.

When she was wrapped up, he knew it was time to move the body. Tomorrow, when her sorority sisters woke, she would be missing. As they entered her room to ask how much fun she had at the frat house, she wouldn’t be there to answer them. Her voice would no longer be heard.

She was gone.

There would be no trace.

There’d be no body.

Felicity Magliozzi was about to vanish from this world and the campus.

Dragging her through the trees, he did the unspeakable. He tossed her body, used, abused, and broken into the water. From here on out, the golf pond would hold his secret.

For all eternity.

 

 

 

 

      
            
* * *
  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

 

 

 

 

Two Weeks Later

 

 

 

He’d waited long enough.

If he didn't move soon, it would eat away at him, making him a shell of a human being. There was the urge to take another one the night after he took Felicity, but he had to wait.

Bide his time.

Study the situation.

After all, that’s what you did at a university.

Now, he believed it would be safe, so tonight, there would be another one.

And when he was done, one more would follow her. It would keep going until he was done.

This was his calling.

He couldn’t stop. The pleasure afterward was just too much to turn away. He loved it.

He was greedy.

Vicious.

Evil.

And he couldn’t be stopped.

No one had even made mention of the missing girl. Yes, the campus police searched for her, and the fraternity was questioned, but then it was dropped. It was like no one cared if someone took one little lost lamb.

After all, she was only a slutty girl missing from the world. Her parents were the only ones who cared, and that had turned to ambivalence when they learned the truth.

Their daughter was nothing more than a party girl. See, her father had an influential job, and he didn't want it marred by speculation.

So, they were investigating, but quietly.

That amused him.

What did they hope to find?

He’d been very careful, almost mindful, as he made her disappear.

He took what he wanted from her partied out body, discarding the scraps. Yes, his hands on her were sloppy seconds, but that didn't matter.

He was okay with that.

In the grand scheme of it all, he’d let others have her first. After all, what he wanted with her was so much bigger.

Better.

More amazing.

Yes, he’d tolerate them smelling like booze and cheap sex, because in the end, she’d still be special—
to him
.

They all would.

After all, they were a gift—one, which would be remembered forever.

Now, it was time to find another treasure. It wasn’t hard. The fraternity liked to party, and so did he. Only, he did what he wanted, breaking all the rules. The others… they were weak sheep, being led by sex and alcohol.

He wouldn’t be lured into that.

There were bigger goals in life. There was so much more outside the frat house, but they didn't get it. They couldn’t see the truth and how precious the women were.

But he did. He’d seen it first hand, and he was in love with what was available to all of them.

This next girl would give him that.

The opportunities would be bigger, greater, and even more alluring. All he had to do was pluck her from the slutty girl tree, and have his way with her body.

It was that simple.

Slowing his excited breathing, he listened to the footsteps. She was coming, and he couldn’t wait to get her under his body. Then he’d work his magic. With the last one, he didn't want her this badly, but he was losing control.

He could feel it.

Once he got his hands on her, then she’d be his to do whatever he wanted.

And he wanted a great deal from her…

When she tripped, dropped her keys, and then fumbled for them in the grass, he knew it was time. Sneaking up behind her, his hands found her throat. As he yanked her off the path and into the darkness, he squeezed and squeezed, cutting off all her air.

She fought like a hellcat, but it didn't matter.

He loved every second of it. He was now in total control, and with that, he’d get the ultimate prize.

HER.

As the drunken girl’s nails sought the flesh of his arm, she was met with disappointment. He was well covered, and ready for any such attempt.

When he spun her around, there was recognition in her eyes, and he was pleased. She knew him. That made it even better that she saw what was coming.

In death, she’d know her assailant, and that gave him an even bigger rush of power.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear, as she slowly began to drift away. “You’re important, Veronica. I promise that you didn't die in vain. You’re special to me.”

She didn't hear him.

Already, her eyes were rolling up into her head as the sound of buzzing filled her ears. Blood flow was slowing as her oxygen was cut off.

She was dying.

He was stealing her life.

Her lips moved, whispering nothing into the darkness as her final plea for salvation was meant to be missed by all.

Then she was gone.

Veronica was now empty, and nothing more than a prissy, well-dressed vessel of dying organs and blood.

“I have to hurry,” he murmured, taking care of the most important parts first. He couldn’t get caught in the act, and that meant rushing through. In the shadows, his penlight in his mouth, he did it.

It was rushed, but he was satisfied. It was yet another successful job, and he was pleased.

The air reeked of sex, blood, and death. Yet, she didn't care, and neither did he.

She was a means to an end and a gift.

Now he needed to escape.

Wrapping her up, he dragged her weighted down corpse to the same pond as the last girl before dumping her in. He didn't even stick around to watch her sink. He knew she would because he was smart, clever, and wily.

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