Read Online Broken by Janet Taylor-Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Taylor-Perry
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Orleans a long time ago. Have things gotten that bad around here?"
"Yes." Neely turned the key in the dead bolt and switched off the "OPEN" sign.
"You're closing. I'm sorry," Raif apologized. "I shouldn't have come."
"It's all right. I'm just not open for business late since…" She shivered.
"Since what?"
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, she said, "I was attacked and vandalized and left for dead a few months back."
"My God! I had no idea. But you reopened. You're a brave one."
"I didn't want to let the goons win, but I now keep a gun behind the counter." She pointed.
"That's probably wise. Can you shoot it?"
"You bet. I took some classes and have a license to carry."
He chuckled. "Ray gave me a gun years ago. I took some classes and have a license also. I just don't particularly like guns." He put his hand on the doorknob. "I should go and let you get home."
Neely laughed lightly. "I am home." She lowered the blinds and started behind the counter. "Would you like to visit? I can't let you wander the streets."
He stood quietly until a voice whispered in his mind, "Go with her."
"Yes, I would if you don't mind." He smiled.
"No, I'd like some company. Have you had dinner?"
"No."
"I'm sure I can find something for us. Will you join me?"
"Yes, I'd really like that." He looked around as if expecting to hear another prompt.
"Come on."
Raif followed Neely through a beaded curtain and a small storage room to a door, which she unlocked. "Welcome to my home," she said, pushing the entry aside and flicking a light switch.
"Your apartment is attached to your business." A slight laugh escaped his lips. "How quaint! I thought these things were long gone."
"This is an old section of town. Many of the businesses in this area still have apartments behind or above. It's small, but it's all I need." They stepped inside.
Neely's apartment had a fairly large open sitting, dining, and kitchen combo, separated by a bar; two bedrooms, one of which she used as her art studio; and a bathroom, which also contained a stacked washer and dryer. There was a back door through the kitchen.
"This is quite nice," said Raif, appraising the apartment from an architect's point of view.
"Thanks. It's where I grew up," explained Neely. "I've lived here my whole life. Maybe that's why I didn't want to be forced out by violence and slow business, but it's been hard to make ends meet lately. Let's see what I can scrounge up for dinner. Would you like something to drink? I have sodas, iced tea, and lemonade."
"Lemonade, please. I try not to drink too many sodas."
"Why? Is it a health thing?"
"In a way." He nodded. "A few years ago, my nephew, Parker, needed a kidney. Ray only has one since he was attacked by Latrice Descartes and he couldn't help his son. Since we're identical twins, I was a match. I want to protect the one I have left."
She paused, holding an ice cube in mid-air. "You gave your nephew your kidney?"
"I couldn't let him die."
"You're amazing, Raiford Gautier."
He felt the heat in his face again. "No, it's just the way I am."
Neely shook her head as she concluded the man in her apartment was truly extraordinary.
Raif watched this young woman. She's beautiful, even more so than I thought when I first met her. Five-foot-six, a hundred ten pounds, with long naturally platinum-blonde hair. And those eyes! They're Confederate gray. I've never seen eyes that color. Raif said thoughtfully, "Why would anybody want to hurt you? You're such a free, yet gentle, spirit."
"Maybe that's why I was an easy target."
"It makes no sense."
"Well, I was the thirteenth victim. The other twelve women died. I guess I was lucky."
"Good, Lord!" exclaimed Raif. "Another lucky thirteen."
"What?"
While Neely cooked chicken strips and macaroni and cheese and tossed a salad, Raif told her the story of Lucky Thirteen .
Placing the salad on the counter for them to eat sitting at the bar, Neely said, "I read that book, but I had no idea it
"Yes." Neely turned the key in the dead bolt and switched off the "OPEN" sign.
"You're closing. I'm sorry," Raif apologized. "I shouldn't have come."
"It's all right. I'm just not open for business late since…" She shivered.
"Since what?"
Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, she said, "I was attacked and vandalized and left for dead a few months back."
"My God! I had no idea. But you reopened. You're a brave one."
"I didn't want to let the goons win, but I now keep a gun behind the counter." She pointed.
"That's probably wise. Can you shoot it?"
"You bet. I took some classes and have a license to carry."
He chuckled. "Ray gave me a gun years ago. I took some classes and have a license also. I just don't particularly like guns." He put his hand on the doorknob. "I should go and let you get home."
Neely laughed lightly. "I am home." She lowered the blinds and started behind the counter. "Would you like to visit? I can't let you wander the streets."
He stood quietly until a voice whispered in his mind, "Go with her."
"Yes, I would if you don't mind." He smiled.
"No, I'd like some company. Have you had dinner?"
"No."
"I'm sure I can find something for us. Will you join me?"
"Yes, I'd really like that." He looked around as if expecting to hear another prompt.
"Come on."
Raif followed Neely through a beaded curtain and a small storage room to a door, which she unlocked. "Welcome to my home," she said, pushing the entry aside and flicking a light switch.
"Your apartment is attached to your business." A slight laugh escaped his lips. "How quaint! I thought these things were long gone."
"This is an old section of town. Many of the businesses in this area still have apartments behind or above. It's small, but it's all I need." They stepped inside.
Neely's apartment had a fairly large open sitting, dining, and kitchen combo, separated by a bar; two bedrooms, one of which she used as her art studio; and a bathroom, which also contained a stacked washer and dryer. There was a back door through the kitchen.
"This is quite nice," said Raif, appraising the apartment from an architect's point of view.
"Thanks. It's where I grew up," explained Neely. "I've lived here my whole life. Maybe that's why I didn't want to be forced out by violence and slow business, but it's been hard to make ends meet lately. Let's see what I can scrounge up for dinner. Would you like something to drink? I have sodas, iced tea, and lemonade."
"Lemonade, please. I try not to drink too many sodas."
"Why? Is it a health thing?"
"In a way." He nodded. "A few years ago, my nephew, Parker, needed a kidney. Ray only has one since he was attacked by Latrice Descartes and he couldn't help his son. Since we're identical twins, I was a match. I want to protect the one I have left."
She paused, holding an ice cube in mid-air. "You gave your nephew your kidney?"
"I couldn't let him die."
"You're amazing, Raiford Gautier."
He felt the heat in his face again. "No, it's just the way I am."
Neely shook her head as she concluded the man in her apartment was truly extraordinary.
Raif watched this young woman. She's beautiful, even more so than I thought when I first met her. Five-foot-six, a hundred ten pounds, with long naturally platinum-blonde hair. And those eyes! They're Confederate gray. I've never seen eyes that color. Raif said thoughtfully, "Why would anybody want to hurt you? You're such a free, yet gentle, spirit."
"Maybe that's why I was an easy target."
"It makes no sense."
"Well, I was the thirteenth victim. The other twelve women died. I guess I was lucky."
"Good, Lord!" exclaimed Raif. "Another lucky thirteen."
"What?"
While Neely cooked chicken strips and macaroni and cheese and tossed a salad, Raif told her the story of Lucky Thirteen .
Placing the salad on the counter for them to eat sitting at the bar, Neely said, "I read that book, but I had no idea it
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