Red, White & Dead. Laura Caldwell. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Laura Caldwell
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408980972
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leaving,” Lucy said, “and you’re going to leave all of us alone.”

      Another chuckle, then the smile dropped. “Get the fuck out of here, Lucy, and take those kids, or I’m going to stop being nice about it.”

      A deafening siren pierced the room. The kids threw their hands over their ears.

      Dez pulled a cell phone from his breast pocket, opened it, typed something in as if he was texting. The siren stopped in the room, although we could still hear it outside.

      “The whole place is being evacuated,” Dez said. “Small fire apparently.”

      Lucy and I looked at each other.

      “Go.” I nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.” I didn’t know if I believed it, but she had to get the kids away from these guys.

      She took the kids, walked toward the exit. She shot a scared look over her shoulder.

      “Thatta girl, Lucy,” Dez said in the same demeaning tone. He tried to pat her on the shoulder, but she flinched and glared at him.

      She kept the kids moving and pushed through the exit doors.

      Dez looked at the guy in black. “Make sure she gets all the way outside.”

      The guy left. Dez flashed that cold smile again. “Finally. We’re alone. Just where I wanted you the other night.”

      His tone slithered. It seemed to wind through the heat to reach me. Why had I thought him fairly harmless on Sunday?

      I coughed and forced my mind into the mode I used when I was nervous about a case and had to step up in front of a judge. “What can I do for you?”

      “Oh, you’re going to do a lot for me. A lot. You’re going to start out by telling me who you work for.”

      “What makes you think I work for someone?”

      “A girl like you isn’t smart enough to try and fleece me on your own.”

      It was my turn to bristle. I’d rather be called anything other than stupid.

      Dez saw it. He smiled, then looked me up and down slowly, lecherously.

      I glanced at the exit door. The sirens outside kept screaming.

      “You know what?” I started to walk right toward him. “Let’s just cut the shit. I wasn’t trying to fleece you. I work for the federal government. You’re under surveillance.” I had no idea what I was talking about, but the words had the effect I wanted. An uncertain look crossed Dez’s face.

      “You don’t want to harm a federal agent,” I continued. I thought of all the times Maggie had talked to me about sentencing hearings. “That’ll get you another eighty-six months in prison.” My heart was banging in my chest now, but still I kept walking toward him. “Leave me alone and you’ll be fine. I’ve got nothing on you anyway.”

      Again, for a moment, he looked unsure. But he was still blocking the path to the exit. I seized the moment and veered to the right, toward the entrance doors.

      Apparently, Dez wasn’t as unsure as I’d thought. He moved fast, grabbing me by the arm, twisting it behind my back. “Don’t walk away from me,” he said. “Don’t ever walk away from me.”

      I started shaking. I couldn’t help it.

      “Yeah, baby,” Dez said in my ear, twisting my arm tighter behind me so that it felt it would pop out of the socket. “That’s how I like it. I like you scared. I like you trembling. That’s going to make this so much more fun.”

      I’d taken a self-defense class once in college. My mind scuttled about, trying to remember what I learned, what you were supposed to do. “No!” I yelled. That was the main thing I remembered from the class. “No!” I yelled again. It wasn’t super helpful given that the fire alarm was still shrieking outside the room.

      Yank. Dez twisted my arm tighter. I tried not to whimper, but a grimaced moan escaped from my throat.

      “Yeah, that’s it.” Dez pulled my arm up and even tighter. “Feels nice, doesn’t it? You’re into pain, aren’t you? That’s good.” His breath was hot, moist in my ear. “I don’t care who you work for. I really don’t. You stepped into the wrong pile of shit here, because I make an example of people who mess with me. I am going to fuck you up, girl. Bad.” He chuckled. “I mean really bad. But you’ll love it.” His wet breath was whispering in my ear now. Yank again with my arm.

      I turned my face away from his, then decided to try and use the momentum to my advantage. I swung my face back, and before he could react, Crack! I hit my forehead hard against his nose.

      “Goddamn it!” he said. One arm still clenched mine, but he raised his other hand to his face as if searching for swelling or blood. Suddenly, I remembered another tactic from that self-defense class. I raised my foot and brought it down hard on the top of his.

      “You cunt!” The blow to the foot seemed only to anger him, not to slow him down. The arm he’d raised to his face shot to me now, but in that second, I ducked fast and managed to squirm out of his grasp. A huge urn with an exotic tree was just to my left. It was about as tall as me. I grasped it at the top and heaved it. I couldn’t lift it, but I managed to get it rolling on its base, right at Dez.

      It hit him, but he deflected it and the urn crashed to the floor, breaking into hundreds of shards of pottery, water pooling around our feet. I turned to run toward the entrance doors, but right then they opened. The guy dressed in black stepped inside. He looked over my shoulder for a second at Dez, then lunged toward me, pulling both arms behind my back, and facing me toward Dez.

      Dez grinned coolly. “Isabel McNeil, meet Ransom. Ransom likes redheads, don’t you?”

      The guy behind me murmured something I couldn’t exactly understand, a garbled, guttural string of words.

      “After I get you, he gets you,” Dez said. “And he likes pain as much as you.”

      I started trembling again. What in the hell should I do?

      Dez took one step toward me, then another. I kept shaking, and Ransom kept gripping his meaty hands tighter around my arms, pulling me back against him.

      Just then I saw something above Dez—one of the massive moths that had been on the glass ceiling. It fluttered behind Dez’s head, almost as if it were dazzled by the sheen of his overapplied hair gel.

      “Dude,” Ransom said, followed by more guttural-sounding words. I could only make out, “You got some—”

      “I got some what?” Dez said, his voice coy but menacing. He stared at my breasts. Took a step toward me. But then the moth decided to land. Right on Dez’s head.

      “What the fuck?” Dez screamed, batting at his hair. “What the fuck?”

      But the moth wouldn’t leave. In fact, it fluttered up for a second, then landed again, this time on his face.

      “Fucking bug!” He squashed the thing with his hands, but it was as if he’d angered the moth’s posse, because suddenly there were four of them, all flapping around Dez’s face, while he swore and smacked at himself.

      Ransom tried to drag me over to Dez, I guess to help him, but the minute his grip lessened the tiniest bit, I surged out of his clutches and dashed to the doors. I pushed through them and started running, yelling for help. But there was no one in the museum, just the screams of the fire alarm. I heard another sound behind me, though, and I looked over my shoulder. Dez and Ransom, sans the moths, were running after me and fast. I turned and kept hauling.

      “Help!” I yelled once or twice, but I knew it was pointless. I ran downstairs, past an exhibit about rainwater. I could hear the footfalls of Dez and Ransom at the top of the stairs. I had to find somewhere to conceal myself before they got to the first floor. My eyes careened wildly around the place. But the floor plan