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...
At least he knew more than he did before. Vivian had an uncle who was in prison, an ex named Jacob Thomas or Tom H, and a brother named Virgil—not a very common name. She also had a gun that might have a serial number he could trace. And since he’d caught her carrying a concealed weapon without a permit, he had the legal right to do it.
It wasn’t a lot, but it was a start.
Besides all that, thanks to the ungodly hour, he’d have a bit more time with Jake. Who knew what the kid might say? Especially with a few more carefully constructed questions…
12
When Vivian opened her eyes, she wasn’t staring at her bedroom ceiling, as usual. She was looking up at the high plaster ceiling of her living room. Why? She never slept anywhere except her bedroom. Not unless she dozed off at her design table downstairs. That happened occasionally during her busiest season. She wasn’t quite as far along as she wanted to be. There was a lot to do, but she had a few weeks before she had to finish her designs for next spring. They didn’t go to the wholesalers until September.
Then the reason everything was so different came to her—Rex. He’d been in her house, waiting for her last night.
She rolled off the couch and landed hard on the floor before she woke up enough to move with any coordination. But the thump brought no reaction from anyone else and that made her frantic. Where was he? She hadn’t dreamed that he’d shown up, had she?
After the stomach-churning worry of the past few days, she thought maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her. Maybe it’d fooled her into believing he was okay, that they were all safe for the time being, so she could get some rest…?.
Only when she spotted the blanket she’d given him, cast aside near the easy chair he’d sat on while they talked, did she know it’d been real.
“Rex?” she called.
No answer. Surely he hadn’t left without saying goodbye.
“Pretty Boy?” She switched to the nickname he’d had while he belonged to The Crew. That was how she preferred to remember him because it hailed back to the good feelings they’d had for each other before everything fell apart. Besides, his nickname fit him well. He didn’t look anything like the other members of the gang, most of whom prided themselves on their tattoos and over-muscled physiques, even their scars. Rex was on the tall side—and thanks to a metabolism that ran like a turbine engine, he was lean and lithe. He had trouble keeping weight on even when he wasn’t using drugs. He had no tattoos or injuries that hadn’t healed perfectly, despite all the fighting he’d been involved in over the years. But he had other scars, on the inside. And they were deep, so deep Vivian didn’t think he’d ever be completely whole, which was why she couldn’t be part of his life.
The muted sound of someone speaking elsewhere in the house reached her ears. He was here, all right. On the phone. Probably talking to Virgil. Although her brother hadn’t picked up, they’d tried to call him last night.
Following Rex’s voice, she located him in her basement. He’d left the living room so he wouldn’t wake her. But she needed to get up. They had some decisions to make before her children came home.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
His green eyes shifted toward her. Those eyes could be so vulnerable, so innocent despite all he’d been and done. But they were simply matter-of-fact now. “I’m sure…?. Yeah, your sister’s here…?. I’ll tell her…?. Got it…?. Right. Bye.”
“My brother didn’t want to talk to me?” She sat in her work chair but swiveled to face him.
“He said he’d catch you later. He’s got stuff to do.”
“Like…”
“Researching what’s happening inside The Crew.” Slouching on the small secondhand couch she’d placed in the corner, along with some toys and a TV for when her children joined her down here, he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. Had he slept at all last night? Didn’t look like it. Didn’t look like he’d slept in days. But he’d always lived on the edge, as if he could outdistance the ghosts that chased him merely by running his ass ragged. Vivian felt certain that the past few years would’ve killed a lesser man. She was afraid his choices would take him yet. The past week hadn’t been easy on him; she could see it in his rawboned, hollow-eyed face.
“You’re using again,” she said.
He regarded her from beneath half-lowered lids but didn’t respond.
“You have to stop. You know that. You have to pull your shit together, or…or you’re going to die, Rex. You’ll get in a shoot-out in some bar, or screw the wrong man’s woman, or go back to prison. Or overdose.” Her voice went low on those last two words because an overdose was what she feared most. She guessed there were times when he considered death a better alternative to living. That had to be the case, or he wouldn’t have spent so much of the past few years trying to destroy himself.
“I’m not using. But that’s beside the point.” Lying back, he slung an arm over his face. “You lost the right to bitch at me when you blew up our relationship.”
If it wasn’t drugs, it had to be alcohol. He claimed they hadn’t been able to reach him since he left for L.A. because he’d lost his phone charger, but if he’d been sober, he would’ve remedied that problem. “I blew up our relationship?”
“That’s right.”
“You broke up with me just as many times as I broke up with you.”
“But you knew I loved you.”
“I loved you, too. You—” Biting back the rest, she counted to ten before continuing. “I don’t want to argue about who’s to blame for what anymore. You have to come to terms with what happened to Jack or you’ll never have any peace.” Vivian couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Jack was such a taboo subject. His ghost had stood between them all along, because it stood between Rex and happiness. But maybe the time had come to speak the truth, no matter how painful.
He raised his arm so he could see her, his eyes taking on that glittery look she’d seen only when he was at his angriest. “Don’t start on Jack.”
“Pretty Boy, look—”
“Don’t call me that,” he said with a grimace.
He couldn’t identify with his old gang persona, or his new legitimate persona, either. He was lost in between, which was almost worse than being in prison. At least then he’d had some structure in his life.
She took a deep breath. “Fine. Rex. But someone has to get through to you. Your little brother—what…what happened to him—is at the root of all your problems.”
“Stop with the psychoanalysis. Prison’s enough to screw up anyone’s life.”
Virgil had gone to prison, too, but he’d been able to recover. Pretty Boy could’ve made good, if not for what was eating him up inside. He had a brother who was a doctor, another who was a chemical engineer. It wasn’t as if he came from a poor or underprivileged home. He would’ve ended up with an education and a good job if not for that one afternoon at the river, cliff diving with his youngest brother. “You didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”
“I challenged him!” The veins in his neck stood out as he shouted. “I told him I’d made that jump.”
She refused to allow her voice to rise with his. “You were just a kid.”
“So was he! Barely twelve years old. I knew he thought I could walk on water, that he’d believe me. I just…” Tears filled his eyes as he fell back. “I never dreamed he’d do it, and I never dreamed it would really hurt him even if he did.”