In Seconds
- Автор: Новак Бренда
- Серия: Bulletproof #2
- Год: 2011
- Язык: французский
- Жанр: Остросюжетные любовные романы
Электронная книга - «In Seconds». Краткое содержание книги:
Laurel Hodges has changed her identity twice. She's been on the run for the past four years, trying to outdistance the gang members who blame her for the death of one of their own. She's finally found peace and stability in the small town of Pineview, Montana. But just when Laurel thinks she and her children are safe...the nightmare starts all over again.
The Crew, a ruthless prison gang with ties to Laurel's brother, will never forget and they'll never forgive. And now that they've finally tracked her down, they'll stop at nothing.
Sheriff Myles King, who happens to live next door with his thirteen-year-old daughter, appoints himself Laurel's personal guardian. His growing attraction to her could change his life—Myles is beginning to picture marriage and family. But it could also end his life. If he can't save her, everything he's built, everything he wants, could be destroyed. In seconds...
“Your tow will be here any moment,” he explained as he returned their documents. “I’ve got business in the next town, so I’m going to head out.”
The boy sat taller. “Really?”
“You don’t mind waiting alone, do you?”
“No, no problem at all. Thanks for your help, Sheriff.”
The man who’d said his name was Ron Howard didn’t speak. He merely rested his head against the back window and closed his eyes.
“Your friend going to be okay?” Myles asked.
“He’ll be fine,” Peter assured him. “It’s chronic pain. Nothing anyone can do.”
“He should contact his doctor, have him call in a new prescription. There’s a drugstore right across from Harvey’s Tow.”
The boy nodded. “We’ll do that. Thanks.”
“Good luck,” he said, and walked back to his car. He probably would’ve continued to wait, just in case “Mr. Howard’s” condition worsened and he ended up needing emergency care, but Harvey radioed to say he was five minutes away.
He could leave them, couldn’t he? As odd as they were, these boys hadn’t given him any trouble. He couldn’t imagine they’d give Harvey any trouble, either. It wasn’t as if he carried money on him. The only thing he’d have to steal would be his truck, but if they were going to do something that rash, they would’ve tried to take his cruiser.
Relieved to be free, Myles informed Harvey that one of the men had a medical problem. Then he drove off. With any luck, he could still make the autopsy.
8
“Shit, that was close!” Ink muttered as he watched the sheriff leave.
L.J. shoved the gun—which he’d hidden beneath an old shirt—back under the seat. “Good thing I didn’t shoot him. What if I’d blown him away like you told me to?”
Ink didn’t bother opening his eyes. He’d exaggerated his condition to entice the sheriff out of his cruiser and away from his radio sooner rather than later, since they didn’t need any other cops to join him. But he felt pain almost all the time. That was no act. “Then he’d be dead. And there’s nothing wrong with a dead cop. I like that kind better than any other.”
“I wouldn’t cry over it, either. But we can’t be stupid, or we’ll wind up back in prison. I still can’t believe he didn’t bust our asses. I was sure he was planning to.” He adjusted the rearview mirror.
“Tow truck comin’?”
“Not yet.” L.J. started searching for a station that played music to his liking, but Ink couldn’t tolerate the static, which was about all they were getting, so he reached over and turned off the radio. His back pain was giving him a headache. When he’d broken out of prison, it wasn’t as if he could take the nurse and her meds with him. Now he was trying to manage with the recreational drugs he’d gotten from various gang members who’d helped them once they hit the outside, and what he could buy over the counter.
“What do you think changed his mind?” L.J. asked.
“You mean the sheriff?”
“Yeah.”
Wasn’t it obvious? “His computer didn’t have anything to say about us.”
L.J.’s eyebrows slid up. “How could that be? He had us, man.”
“He didn’t even know our real names.”
“What about the plates? We stole this truck a week ago.”
Ink leaned out the window as far as his back would allow. Mild as the summer was here in the mountains of Montana, this was the hottest part of the day. “Guy we stole it from must not have reported it—or this would’ve ended very differently.”
L.J.’s baby face registered a frown. “I can’t imagine the owner hasn’t called the cops.”
“Maybe he hasn’t missed it.”
“How do you not miss your own vehicle?”
Where was the damn tow truck? Sitting here baking in the hot sun was making Ink angrier by the minute. Angrier than he normally was. “By having too many to begin with,” he snapped. “By having one that’s such a hunk of junk you don’t give a shit that it’s gone. Hell, maybe it’s not even his. Maybe he was storing it for his son, who’s in the military or away at school or in rehab. You saw where this baby was parked. Way out on the south forty, mostly hidden by storage. I’ll bet whoever owns that property doesn’t walk there every day. Another week could pass before anyone notices.”
Fidgeting was how L.J. dealt with his nervous energy, but Ink had a hard time tolerating the repetitive movement. Actually, it wasn’t just the movement that drove him nuts. It was the constant questions. L.J. was so damn green. That was the problem with growing old in prison. The fresh fish soon seemed like mere babies, and yet they all wanted to join The Crew. Ink had promised to sponsor L.J. if he helped him break out, but there was no way he’d follow through. L.J. wasn’t worthy.
“So why the hell didn’t he sell it if he didn’t care about it anymore?” L.J. asked.
Ink shot him another glance. This was what he had to work with.
But he’d managed so far. They’d busted out of prison, hadn’t they? Of course, it’d helped that, after four years of good behavior, they’d transferred him to a medium-security facility. No one expected someone as handicapped as he was to cause any trouble. And L.J. had gone to prison for possession. He’d only had a year left. No one expected him to bust out, either. If he wasn’t trying so hard to impress the leaders of The Crew, who wanted to see Laurel and Virgil dead as badly as Ink did, he probably wouldn’t have.
“Are you going to answer?”
The impulse to bash in L.J.’s head nearly overwhelmed him. But he wrestled with it, subdued it. Thanks to his tattoos and his limp, he was too distinctive, too memorable. He needed a front man. So what if this boy had shit for brains? It was probably better that way; he’d never challenge Ink. At least the kid’s body was strong and healthy.
Just like Ink’s used to be—before Rex, Virgil and his bitch of a sister came along.
“Who gives a rat’s ass why he wouldn’t sell it?” Ink said. “Quit with the dumb questions, okay?”
L.J.’s voice was sulky when he responded. “They’re not dumb questions. You think everything’s dumb.”
Ink let his head bump against the back window again. “I think you’re dumb, that’s for sure. You’re like a five-year-old. The owner didn’t report the truck stolen or we would’ve been arrested. It’s that simple. Happy now?”
“No, I’m not happy at all,” L.J. grumbled. “You said if I helped you break out we’d have one hell of a good time. But here we are, after almost a week of camping in the woods with no bathroom or shower, sitting on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. It’s a miracle we didn’t get arrested by that hick sheriff! If he’d dragged us off, we could’ve been charged with the murder of that guy you killed. If that ever happens, they’ll give us both the death penalty, even though I had nothing to do with it.”
Lowering his eyelids, Ink skewered him with a malevolent glare. “You were there, weren’t you?”
“Unfortunately.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “That Realtor was harmless. He reminded me of my grandpa.”
“The old bastard had it coming.”
“For saying you had to have money before he’d rent you a place?”
Ink heard the deep rumble of a diesel motor. Cautious to avoid causing himself more pain, he twisted around until he could see the tow truck chugging up from behind. “I offered him some money, but it just wasn’t enough. If he wasn’t going to give us a place, he had to give us something. I wasn’t going to come away empty-handed.”