The Twain Shall Meet

The Twain Shall Meet by Deidre Dalton is Book #3 in the Collective Obsessions Saga.

An innocent meeting as children sparks a fateful yet perilous liaison between Shannon Larkin and Mike Sullivan. Will their romance follow the same tragic path forged by their mutual ancestors Colm and Molly?

From Chapter Seven

November 1970

Larkin City, Maine

    FROM HIS POSITION AT the edge of the Larkin family cemetery, Michael Sullivan watched as three male figures emerged from the front doors of the estate, each one carrying a flash light. They were moving in the direction of the garages, which was opposite the cemetery.
    Mike grinned to himself in the dark. His hair was plastered to his head, and his clothes were soaking wet. He had been standing in the rain since nine o'clock, having walked the two miles from his trailer to the entrance road of the Larkin estate. He had then walked another mile from the main highway to the house, making sure to remain obscured in the many bushes and trees off to the side of the long driveway.
    As he saw the three figures vanish into the garages, Mike made his way to the back of the mansion, clutching a water-sodden paper sack in his hand. Suddenly he slipped and fell on the sloping lawn, sliding through the thick mud, the paper sack flying into the air. Cursing, he stood up and steadied himself. It was pitch black and miserably wet. The rain pelted on his face with such force it began to hurt. Where was his sack? Frantically, he dropped down to his hands and knees and started feeling around the ground. After several moments, he located the sack six feet from where he fell. Standing up once more, he made sure the contents were intact.
    From within the package, he withdrew a gleaming, eleven-inch hunting knife he purchased at the Larkin Sporting Goods store that afternoon. He spent part of the evening sharpening the knife, and now it had a razor edge. He admired the blade with a half-smile on his face. He continued his descent to the back lawn. Most of the windows in the house were dark, except for a scattered few on the first floor. Mike also noticed the lights coming from Shannon's room since he arrived on the estate.
    He remembered how to make his way to the back door, where the kitchen was. He sped across the back lawn, and scurried up the few steps to the back door. Taking a deep breath, he tried the door slowly.
    His face lit up. It was unlocked! Perfect! Quietly, he stepped into the kitchen. A night light burned over the stove, just as it had the night he came with Shannon. The room was deserted. He shut the back door softly behind him. Water dripped from his clothes onto the floor, making slight dripping sounds in the room. Turning quickly, he tiptoed to the door leading to the corridor and the front foyer. He peered out into the corridor. No sounds, no voices . . .
    Mike paused in the foyer. Then he made for the main staircase, the knife still clutched in his hand. He took the steps two at a time, his water-laden shoes making squishing sounds as he walked. He stopped and removed the shoes, leaving them on the first landing. He continued on through the corridors and flights of stairs until he reached the fourth floor. A strange, almost gentle smile crossed his lips. The game was almost finished. For the first time in months, he felt himself relax. He had Shannon where he wanted her now, and there was no way she could stop him.
    Chuckling, Mike came to a halt in front of Shannon's closed bedroom door. His grip on the knife tightened as he reached for the door knob.

     "I WISH YOU'D TOLD me sooner about this creep bothering you," David complained to Shannon. "He needs to be put in his place before he does some real harm."
    David and Shannon were sitting cross-legged in front of her fireplace in the bedroom. After her cousins left the house to search the grounds, they went to her room with the decanter of brandy, where he built a roaring fire. He watched the play of light on Shannon's blue-black hair and smiled. Sitting with her was almost too much for his manhood to bear. His heart was beating faster than normal and he knew he was flushed. To create a diversion for himself, he began to scold Shannon over not telling anyone about Mike Sullivan.
    Shannon grimaced. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. Who will put him in his place? His problem is in his head, I tell you. I really don't know how people define madness these days, but if I'm any judge I would say Mike is as mad as the March Hare."
    "And you say all of a sudden his behavior returned to normal?" David asked skeptically.
    "Yes, which makes the situation more difficult," she paused, groping for words. "How can I prove anything? I can say one thing, but he could simply prove me wrong by putting on his mask of normalcy again. For all I know, he could keep that mask on as long as it suited him. I wish there was a way of convincing him to seek professional help before it's too late."
    "I won't beat around the bush," David broke in bluntly. "I think he's a bloody maniac."
    She sighed, an unhappy expression on her face. "I know." She hung her head slightly, her mouth drawn into a tight line across her face. "Odd as it may sound, I could never stop thinking about Mike," she said softly, with a hint of regret. "Even in my darkest moods, even when I despised him for what he was doing to my life. Yet in the beginning I was really crazy about him, I wanted to go to bed with him. There were so many obstacles in our way. Then I realized I didn't want that sort of relationship with him, but it was too late." She raised her head and looked at David. "I should have seen the signs, Davey. I was so blind, so stupid. It wasn't until afterward that I recalled how he used to hang on my every word, my every expression. When I was with him he would tell me our relationship was the only thing that mattered to him." She hung her head again.
    "Shan, don't torture yourself this way," David tried to soothe her, pulling her into his arms. "What's done is done. There is no use looking back now. You can't change anything."
    Her eyes became moist. "Thank you," she murmured. "I needed to hear that. Believe it or not, it does help."
    David looked at Shannon intently, adoring her with his eyes. He caressed her face gently, wiping away the tears that fell onto her cheeks. He kissed the top of her nose. She gazed up at him, her face warm and trusting. He bent closer, touching her lips with his.
    Shannon decided she wanted to feel David. He was so sweet, so wonderful. She trusted him implicitly, and knew he would never hurt her. She needed to feel him now. She grasped him by the shoulders and pulled him down on top of her. He let out a moan and began kissing her fiercely. She responded willingly and held onto the back of his head with her hands, pulling him even closer.
    He began working the buttons of her blouse open. She offered no protest as he slipped his hand inside of her bra, caressing her taut breasts. He lowered his head, brushing aside her long hair, and fastened his mouth on her eager nipple. He rolled it around with tongue, and then sucked gently. Eyes closed, Shannon began to whimper, "David, David . . ."
    Suddenly, her eyes flew open instinctively. She looked past David's shoulder and let out a scream of terror. Mike Sullivan was leering down at her, eyes glazed and wild. His hair was molded to his head like wet plaster, covered in mud and rain. In his right hand he held the biggest, sharpest looking knife she had ever seen. He brought the knife up, his eyes on David's head. Screaming louder, she pushed David from her forcefully, where he rolled onto his back.
    "So you're the bastard!" Mike shrieked. "She is mine, you fucking pig! She's mine!" He flew on top of David, driving the knife into his rib cage. In horror, Shannon watched David's face - just a moment ago filled with loving passion - melt into disbelief and pain, his eyes bulging from their sockets.
    "No, no!" Shannon cried, jumping to her feet. She looked around wildly. Spying the near-empty brandy decanter on the floor in front of her, she bent over and grabbed it. She turned to David and Mike, who were now engaged in a crazy battle of strength in front of the fireplace. Mike stabbed David again, this time in the arm. David struggled, trying to push Mike from him.
    Shannon raised the brandy decanter and smashed it down on Mike's head. He acted as if she merely pinched him, despite the fact that blood was now streaming down his face, running into his eyes and mouth. Ignoring her, he raised the knife again and plunged it into David's stomach.
    She grabbed Mike by his left arm and started pulling with all of her strength, hoping to free David from him. Mike shook her off, slightly faltering, and then he flung his head against hers with amazing force. Screaming, she was thrown half way across the room. She fell against a pointed corner of the bed, her hip receiving a painful blow. She landed on the floor with a thud, her hands smashed underneath her.
    "God, no, no . . ." she moaned. She was dizzy and sick to her stomach. She managed to get to her feet, steadying herself. She turned around to see what was happening now.
    She looked just in time to see Mike plunge the knife deep into David's throat. She watched mutely as David grew still. His eyes and mouth were open wide, the knife sticking straight up from his throat, swaying back and forth as if it were attached to a piece of rubber. David made no sound, no motion of breathing or resistance. Blood began to gush down the side of his neck to the floor.
    Shannon covered her mouth with her hands, feeling the bile rise within her throat. She let out a sob. David! David, David, David! Her dearest David impaled with a knife that belonged to a madman, a real live madman . . .
    "You're next, Shannon," she heard the madman's voice snarl. "You were about to give it to the bastard, weren't you? Well, now the bastard is dead, and I'm here. After I've taken what you owe me, you'll end up just like him. You don't deserve to live."
    She uncovered her mouth, eyes uncertain and confused. She watched in shocked numbness as Mike pulled the knife from David's throat with one quick motion. Blood dripped from the weapon onto David's lifeless body as Mike held the knife up in the air. Then he wiped the knife on David's pants. Shannon looked to Mike's face. He was flushed, licking his lips in anticipation like an animal. She sought his eyes with her own. His attention was not directed at her face, but to her open blouse. She looked down in dismay. David had undone the buttons of her shirt, and her bra was unhooked and sagging to her sides. Her breasts were open and free to Mike's greedy gaze.
    "I guess I should finish what the bastard started," Mike leered triumphantly, waving the knife around and pointing it at her. "What is left of you is mine, Shannon, my darling, little two-faced bitch. No one else will ever have it."
    She looked at him, still hesitant and unsure, which was quickly replaced by desperation as Mike lunged at her. She sidestepped the knife thrust and ran, hoping to put distance between them, but Mike quickly followed her. She stumbled to the fireplace, grabbing a wrought-iron fire poker to defend herself. He came at her again, steadily darting at her with the knife across the room.
    The surreal skirmish carried through to the sitting room. Shannon positioned herself in between the couch and the coffee table, the poker still in her hand. Mike came to a stop in front of her, across the coffee table. His eyes were bright as he tried to soothe her. "I won't kill you until I've fucked you, Shan. Come on now, be reasonable."
    Shannon shook her head violently. "Monster. Murderer," she spat at him hoarsely. "May God damn you where you stand. I hate you with all of my being, Michael Sullivan. You are a freak, a bloody monster. I hate you. Do you hear me? I hate you."
    In one swift movement, Mike smacked the knife against the poker, knocking it from her hand. In the next instant, he jumped across the table, pushing her down onto the couch.
    "I have you now," he hissed, shoving her onto her back and sitting his body on her hips. "You've tormented me long enough. I'll get my due from you now, prick-tease bitch. You can be damn sure no one will want you after I'm done."
    She struggled wildly underneath him as he grabbed her breasts roughly, squeezing them painfully. It was no use. He seemed possessed with super-human strength. She flung her head back and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
    "SHUT UP!" he shouted. He swung his hand back and smacked her hard across the face. He kept slapping her until blood began to stream from her nose and mouth. She finally sat still, stunned from the blows.
    "Mike, please stop," she whimpered. "Please, I'll do anything you want me to."
    He laughed softly. "That's more like it." He reared back and began undoing her pants. She remained limp, watching him with dull eyes. He stripped her pants off, and then her underwear. He threw them in the center of the sitting room. Then he removed her gaping blouse and bra, flinging them into the air.
    His eyes were livid with an emotion she could not read. He was breathing with difficulty, wheezing, staring down at her naked body. He brought his hand to her groin area, moving his fingers around the flesh of her opening. Suddenly, he rammed his two index fingers inside of her. Shannon winced in pain, her whole body stiffening.
    "I always wanted to know what you felt like down there," he said thickly, moving his fingers in and out of her slowly. "Aren't you lucky I got to you before the bastard did?" He glanced over to David's inert corpse in front of the bedroom fireplace, grinning.
    She felt hot tears behind her eyelids. How could Mike assault her with David's body not ten feet from them? "I have to keep my wits about me," she told herself weakly. "Kevin and Liam and Sean have to be back soon. I have to hold on a little while longer." She wondered why no one else in the house heard her screams, but realized at the moment she was the only person on the fourth floor. The walls of the old mansion were thick and sturdy. For the first time in her life, she cursed the ancient structure.
    Mike was slobbering kisses on her breasts, neck and face. She wanted to vomit, but forced herself to remain unresponsive.
    How could she have found this maniac attractive? He had once been so young and beautiful - now he was repulsive, repellent, sickening . . . a monster.

     SEAN KNEW SOMETHING WAS terribly wrong. Despite the cold rain, he was perspiring heavily. The feeling came upon him quite suddenly. Shannon was in trouble right now - there was no question about it.
    Kevin, Liam and Sean were walking through the cemetery with their flash lights. Sean yanked Liam by the arm.
    "What the hell . . ." Liam snapped, turning around.
    "It's Shan," Sean gasped, his eyes frantic. "She's in trouble. We have to go back to the house."
        Kevin overheard him. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.
"You know how it is between the two of us," Sean cried. "I'm telling you, she's in trouble right now."
    Kevin and Liam nodded. They had enough experience with the strong connection between the twins to know Sean was serious, and probably right.
    "Let's go," Kevin said. "I hope we get there in time."
    As they ran back toward the mansion, tears streamed down Sean's face. He had never been as frightened in his life as he was right now. It was as if Shannon's fear was transferring itself into him. The thought seemed to give Sean an abnormal boost of adrenalin, and he sprinted ahead of his cousin's to reach his twin as soon as possible, if not sooner.

     AS SUDDENLY AS MIKE was on top of her, he was gone. Shannon felt his weight pulled from her roughly. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she almost fainted with relief. Mud spattered and wet, Kevin had Mike by the neck, a purple rage flooding his face.
    Liam and Sean, equally bedraggled, flew to Shannon's side. "My God, sis, are you okay?" Sean demanded, in a panic. "Did he hurt you? Where's David?"
    Shannon let out a sob. She became aware of her nakedness. Liam noticed, too. He scrambled and retrieved her discarded clothing from the floor. She sat up and shrugged into her blouse and slacks.
    Kevin was beating Mike to a pulp. He held the young boy to the floor, repeatedly driving his fist into his face. Mike's head was covered with blood. He was motionless, near unconsciousness.
    "Kevin, stop," Liam shouted, running toward his brother. "He's almost out cold. Stop it! You'll kill him!"
    Kevin finally paused, panting with exertion. He glanced over at Shannon. She stood up shakily from the couch, gasping for air. "Kill him," she screamed hysterically. "I said kill him! He murdered David. He killed David, for God's sake, killed him . . ." She sank to the couch again, her sobs uncontrollable.
    Liam raced up the two steps leading into the bedroom. Kevin dropped the limp form of Mike to the floor and followed his brother. Sean remained with Shannon, holding her, trying to calm her down. She stared at Mike, her whole body shivering. He lay still and bloody, his eyes closed. She vaguely heard her two cousins talking in low tones in the next room, but she could not see them. She felt lifeless, numb - trapped in a horrible nightmare that was all too real. David was dead, forever gone from her. She renewed her sobbing, but could not bring herself to tear her eyes away from Mike.
    He started to revive slowly, shaking his head back and forth, a spray of blood spurting from his mouth. He turned his head toward Shannon. She noticed his eyes were almost swollen shut. Then his cracked and puffy lips broke into a mad, demented grin. Blood shaded his teeth red, although he was now missing several. He kept grinning at her, unmoving.
    Shannon began to scream. She could not stop, even when Sean shook her roughly, telling her to calm down. Scream after scream left her parched throat. Her eyes flew to the door.
    Brian Larkin burst into the room, his hands on the door frame. He was dressed in a dark brown robe, hair askew and eyes blurry. He looked at his daughter, his facial expression going wide with shock.
    Shannon was up in a flash. She ran to her father, still screaming. "Daddy, Daddy, please help me. Help me Daddy!"
    She flung herself into his open arms, the warm darkness overtaking her and dragging her into oblivion.