Read Online BREAK ME FREE by Summer Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Summer Jordan
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find it fucking hard to believe we share the same genes. Fuck me, did I get all the brains … and the looks?”
“Sorry.”
“Tanya and Serge were last seen in Edinburgh train station.”
“Great, I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“We’re not fucking sightseeing, Igor.”
“I know, I know.”
* * * *
Racing along the midnight motorway, the Porsche sped through the yellow pools of light. Vladimir tightened his grip of the wheel. “I bet he’s fucking her. My best friend and my girl, you can’t trust anyone.” Igor snored incessantly beside the angry Vladimir. “Wake up you fat bastard.” Vladimir ground is teeth as the snores continued. “Igor, wake the fuck up.” Fed up, Vladimir leaned over and slapped him in the chubby face.
“Who, what, where?”
“Oh, you’re awake?”
“I felt like something hit me.”
“It sounded like you were having a pretty bad nightmare to me. Probably a good thing you’re awake, try a stay that way.”
The flat plains of the Southern English countryside slowly formed into the rolling hills of the North. Vladimir rubbed his watering eyes at the red-blooded sun broke to the East. “So fucking tired, not even the Charlie is keeping me awake.”
“Just saw a sign for a service station, pull over there and I’ll take over.”
The sound of the motorway roared in the background as the morning commute was in full swing. The Porsche stood parked and Vladimir supped a strong coffee as his sat sideways on his car seat with his legs stretched out through the open door. He watched Igor approach with a large bucket of fried chicken. “There is no way you’re bringing that into my car.”
“Come on boss, I’m starving.”
“Eat it on the bench over there.”
Sitting on the bench , Igor shouted as he pointed at Vladimir’s cup of coffee. “Shouldn’t be drinking that, all that caffeine is bad for your health.”
“That might be true, but I can see the grease from that chicken all over those ugly fat cheeks of yours.” Vladimir slurped another mouthful of coffee. “I’ll be attending your funeral, before being the centre of attention of my own.”
“Let’s hope we’re both be at Serge’s first though.”
“Hopefully.” Vladimir stood and walked to an overflowing bin. He placed the cup carefully on the top of the pile. “Just stretching my legs. I’ll be back in five.”
* * * *
The service station was quiet and only a few early morning travellers occupied the food court. He walked past the small casino put resisted the urge for a quick flutter. Inside a tourist information centre he sifted through hundreds of pamphlets. “Now where would Serge go? What would that diehard Moldovan get up to?” His eyes fell upon a Royal Scottish Agriculture Show “I wonder?” Reading through the pages he smiled as his mind travelled up the gears. “He won’t be able to resist such a thing.”
Back at the car Vladimir spotted Igor wiping his face with a tissue. “What do you know about farming?”
“Nothing. Cows, sheep and tractors… Oh and they smell of shit.”
“For once we’re on the same playing field.”
“Huh.”
“We need to learn as much as possible.”
Igor shrugged. “Why”
“So we can set up a stall at a farming festival.”
“Seriously?”
“He might keep an eye on the crowd, but last thing he would expect is us in stall.”
Chapter Sixteen
The damp feeling of rain hung in the air. Grey tumbling clouds were pushed effortlessly by the stiff breeze. The Land Rover spluttered as it pulled into the farmyard. Serge jumped out the cab like a excited puppy. Tanya was a little less enthusiastic as she lazily slid out the cab. The barn door creaked open and out stepped a plump middle-aged woman with a beehive haircut. She carried a straw basket filled with eggs. Bruce walked over to the woman and proudly smiled as he threw his arm around her. “This here is the long-suffering wife, Beatrice.”
Beatrice stepped up to Tanya
“Sorry.”
“Tanya and Serge were last seen in Edinburgh train station.”
“Great, I’ve always wanted to go there.”
“We’re not fucking sightseeing, Igor.”
“I know, I know.”
* * * *
Racing along the midnight motorway, the Porsche sped through the yellow pools of light. Vladimir tightened his grip of the wheel. “I bet he’s fucking her. My best friend and my girl, you can’t trust anyone.” Igor snored incessantly beside the angry Vladimir. “Wake up you fat bastard.” Vladimir ground is teeth as the snores continued. “Igor, wake the fuck up.” Fed up, Vladimir leaned over and slapped him in the chubby face.
“Who, what, where?”
“Oh, you’re awake?”
“I felt like something hit me.”
“It sounded like you were having a pretty bad nightmare to me. Probably a good thing you’re awake, try a stay that way.”
The flat plains of the Southern English countryside slowly formed into the rolling hills of the North. Vladimir rubbed his watering eyes at the red-blooded sun broke to the East. “So fucking tired, not even the Charlie is keeping me awake.”
“Just saw a sign for a service station, pull over there and I’ll take over.”
The sound of the motorway roared in the background as the morning commute was in full swing. The Porsche stood parked and Vladimir supped a strong coffee as his sat sideways on his car seat with his legs stretched out through the open door. He watched Igor approach with a large bucket of fried chicken. “There is no way you’re bringing that into my car.”
“Come on boss, I’m starving.”
“Eat it on the bench over there.”
Sitting on the bench , Igor shouted as he pointed at Vladimir’s cup of coffee. “Shouldn’t be drinking that, all that caffeine is bad for your health.”
“That might be true, but I can see the grease from that chicken all over those ugly fat cheeks of yours.” Vladimir slurped another mouthful of coffee. “I’ll be attending your funeral, before being the centre of attention of my own.”
“Let’s hope we’re both be at Serge’s first though.”
“Hopefully.” Vladimir stood and walked to an overflowing bin. He placed the cup carefully on the top of the pile. “Just stretching my legs. I’ll be back in five.”
* * * *
The service station was quiet and only a few early morning travellers occupied the food court. He walked past the small casino put resisted the urge for a quick flutter. Inside a tourist information centre he sifted through hundreds of pamphlets. “Now where would Serge go? What would that diehard Moldovan get up to?” His eyes fell upon a Royal Scottish Agriculture Show “I wonder?” Reading through the pages he smiled as his mind travelled up the gears. “He won’t be able to resist such a thing.”
Back at the car Vladimir spotted Igor wiping his face with a tissue. “What do you know about farming?”
“Nothing. Cows, sheep and tractors… Oh and they smell of shit.”
“For once we’re on the same playing field.”
“Huh.”
“We need to learn as much as possible.”
Igor shrugged. “Why”
“So we can set up a stall at a farming festival.”
“Seriously?”
“He might keep an eye on the crowd, but last thing he would expect is us in stall.”
Chapter Sixteen
The damp feeling of rain hung in the air. Grey tumbling clouds were pushed effortlessly by the stiff breeze. The Land Rover spluttered as it pulled into the farmyard. Serge jumped out the cab like a excited puppy. Tanya was a little less enthusiastic as she lazily slid out the cab. The barn door creaked open and out stepped a plump middle-aged woman with a beehive haircut. She carried a straw basket filled with eggs. Bruce walked over to the woman and proudly smiled as he threw his arm around her. “This here is the long-suffering wife, Beatrice.”
Beatrice stepped up to Tanya
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