Read Online Dead Running by Cami Checketts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cami Checketts
Ads: Link
when?”
“When you’re actually running faster than me.”
Tasha scowled, checked her pace and my treadmill display, then sped up to 6.8. “Turtle.”
I rolled my eyes, but hit the speed button until it was at 7.0.
Tasha chuckled and increased her pace to 7.2. “Snail.”
“Stop it, you idiot. I’m not warm yet.” My knees groaned in protest as I jumped to 7.4. I wanted to slow down, not speed up.
Tasha laughed harder. “I thought I was the one who got to call names. Come on, loser, if we’re going to sprint, let’s sprint.” She jammed her finger on the up button, her speed indicator climbed to 12.0.
I pointed. “You’re going to kill yourself.”
She was still able to keep up, but it takes a treadmill a second or two to respond to changes in speed. The belt would increase its rotations soon and I didn’t think Tasha could keep up to . . .
Tasha flew off the back of the treadmill, hit the brick wall, and slammed to her knees.
“Tasha!” I flipped sideways, my left foot caught between the belt and the edge of the treadmill. I went down. The belt ripped at my exposed skin, then slingshot me on top of my downed friend.
“Cassie,” she yelled, pushing herself out from under me.
We sat there stunned for half a second. My leg burned. “Thanks for breaking my fall,” I said.
“Thanks for coming after me,” she muttered. Tasha tossed her head and lifted her shirt, revealing a massive red spot on her back. “Guess twelve is too high for intervals?”
“Guess so.” I pressed my fingers softly against her contusion, feeling the sting of my own cuts. “How bad is it?”
Tasha pointed at the crowd staring at us like we were insane. “Not near as bad as our audience.” She stuck out her tongue at the cardio room occupants. “We are fine , thank you, people.”
I laughed, but then my eyes connected with the intense, blue gaze of one of our gawkers. “Damon?” I whispered.
“Who?” Tasha followed my stare. “Wow,” she said.
Struggling to my feet, I helped Tasha up. “Let’s run outside today.” I hoped I could run at all with this treadmill-rash on my leg.
We brushed by the crowd. I studied the industrial flooring, but couldn’t help myself. Glancing up, I caught Damon’s eye before quickly looking away. His gaze was full of concern, making my humiliation complete.
“Are we stopping to talk to Mr. Strawberry-Blond?” Tasha asked from between her teeth. Damon took a few steps our direction.
“No.” I tilted my head proudly and limped toward the door.
Tasha clung to my arm. “Your loss,” she muttered.
We left with Damon watching us and two empty treadmill belts continuing their rotation.
* * *
Terry studied the pretty brunette and blonde through the scope of his camera. “The pictures weren’t enough for the doc?”
Al exhaled slowly, focusing his binoculars. Neither of them appreciated returning to northern Utah, especially with the threats that someone else was going to reach the payday before them. “From what I hear, Doc Christensen made a few phone calls, but he didn’t fly off to rescue the girl. The good news is . . . ” Al stared at his partner. “I know where he went to get service for his cell phone.”
Terry’s eyes widened. “So if we can get him to that same spot again?”
“Exactly.” Al watched the Doc’s young daughter pump her legs and arms in an all-out sprint. After a minute she slowed to a walk. Her friend caught up with her and they both appeared to be laughing.
Several times they’d watched Cassidy Christensen run, but she wasn’t very good at it. Al smiled to himself. She’d be easy to catch when they were ready. “We have to up the stakes a bit. I’m thinking if she goes on early morning runs every day of the week”
Terry picked up the thread, “We can borrow her for a minute, scare her enough to get some good video and voice coverage”
“And make sure Daddy understands what
“When you’re actually running faster than me.”
Tasha scowled, checked her pace and my treadmill display, then sped up to 6.8. “Turtle.”
I rolled my eyes, but hit the speed button until it was at 7.0.
Tasha chuckled and increased her pace to 7.2. “Snail.”
“Stop it, you idiot. I’m not warm yet.” My knees groaned in protest as I jumped to 7.4. I wanted to slow down, not speed up.
Tasha laughed harder. “I thought I was the one who got to call names. Come on, loser, if we’re going to sprint, let’s sprint.” She jammed her finger on the up button, her speed indicator climbed to 12.0.
I pointed. “You’re going to kill yourself.”
She was still able to keep up, but it takes a treadmill a second or two to respond to changes in speed. The belt would increase its rotations soon and I didn’t think Tasha could keep up to . . .
Tasha flew off the back of the treadmill, hit the brick wall, and slammed to her knees.
“Tasha!” I flipped sideways, my left foot caught between the belt and the edge of the treadmill. I went down. The belt ripped at my exposed skin, then slingshot me on top of my downed friend.
“Cassie,” she yelled, pushing herself out from under me.
We sat there stunned for half a second. My leg burned. “Thanks for breaking my fall,” I said.
“Thanks for coming after me,” she muttered. Tasha tossed her head and lifted her shirt, revealing a massive red spot on her back. “Guess twelve is too high for intervals?”
“Guess so.” I pressed my fingers softly against her contusion, feeling the sting of my own cuts. “How bad is it?”
Tasha pointed at the crowd staring at us like we were insane. “Not near as bad as our audience.” She stuck out her tongue at the cardio room occupants. “We are fine , thank you, people.”
I laughed, but then my eyes connected with the intense, blue gaze of one of our gawkers. “Damon?” I whispered.
“Who?” Tasha followed my stare. “Wow,” she said.
Struggling to my feet, I helped Tasha up. “Let’s run outside today.” I hoped I could run at all with this treadmill-rash on my leg.
We brushed by the crowd. I studied the industrial flooring, but couldn’t help myself. Glancing up, I caught Damon’s eye before quickly looking away. His gaze was full of concern, making my humiliation complete.
“Are we stopping to talk to Mr. Strawberry-Blond?” Tasha asked from between her teeth. Damon took a few steps our direction.
“No.” I tilted my head proudly and limped toward the door.
Tasha clung to my arm. “Your loss,” she muttered.
We left with Damon watching us and two empty treadmill belts continuing their rotation.
* * *
Terry studied the pretty brunette and blonde through the scope of his camera. “The pictures weren’t enough for the doc?”
Al exhaled slowly, focusing his binoculars. Neither of them appreciated returning to northern Utah, especially with the threats that someone else was going to reach the payday before them. “From what I hear, Doc Christensen made a few phone calls, but he didn’t fly off to rescue the girl. The good news is . . . ” Al stared at his partner. “I know where he went to get service for his cell phone.”
Terry’s eyes widened. “So if we can get him to that same spot again?”
“Exactly.” Al watched the Doc’s young daughter pump her legs and arms in an all-out sprint. After a minute she slowed to a walk. Her friend caught up with her and they both appeared to be laughing.
Several times they’d watched Cassidy Christensen run, but she wasn’t very good at it. Al smiled to himself. She’d be easy to catch when they were ready. “We have to up the stakes a bit. I’m thinking if she goes on early morning runs every day of the week”
Terry picked up the thread, “We can borrow her for a minute, scare her enough to get some good video and voice coverage”
“And make sure Daddy understands what
Similar Books
