Read Online Desperate to the Max by Jasmine Haynes - Free Book Online Page B

kitty-corner over the fence, flopped into Bethany’s backyard, then scrabbled to her feet and sprinted over to the back porch where she hunched next to the stoop. The barking started, though she could barely hear it over the roaring in her ears.
    A man shouted, “Shut up, ya lousy mutt.”
    Max waited bug-eyed, the breath rasping in her throat, cursing Cameron with every swear word she knew. No way to tell how long she’d crouched there, could have been a minute, could have been an hour. Her muscles cramped and her toes went numb, but the dog eventually stopped barking. Thank God. She looked at the luminous dial of her watch. Eleven-forty.
    “Up and at ’em, sweetheart.”
    “You’re toast, Starr.”
    “Naturally. You did have me cremated, after all.”
    “I should have let the worms eat you.” She see-sawed her hands up the outside of the house until she stood with her back to the wall. The door was sealed shut with more yellow tape. She’d risked life, limb and liberty for nothing. “Why didn’t you float over and check that out before you had me scaling the bushes?”
    “Not to worry. Plenty of windows and other doors.”
    “What other door except the one right out in front?”
    A gust of wind picked up, billowed across her face, neck and breasts before smacking against the back door. The house creaked, the frame shuddered, and the cat door squeaked in and out.
    She stared. “No way. I can’t fit through that.”
    “The hole was made for a large dog.”
    “So now you’re comparing me to a canine. Thanks.”
    “Look at it.”
    She climbed the two steps, hunkered down in front of the door. It certainly was bigger than she’d first realized. In fact, it looked like it had been made for a mastodon. Some security. A pre-teen could fit through, burgle the house for drug money, and be out in no time flat.
    What about an anorexic sister? The first noise Bethany had heard came from the kitchen. Could her sister Jada have ... not. The girl had a key. Why use the doggie door?
    “So no one would see her?” Cameron answered her unspoken question.
    “I think we’re stretching.”
    “Then get a move on, okay.”
    She eyed the door once more. “What if I get stuck?” she whispered.
    “The dog’ll bite your ass.”
    The hair at her nape rose. She wasn’t afraid of small places, but there was something vulnerable about having her ass stuck in the air as she crawled through.
    “Get in there or we’ll miss the first call.”
    “I have twenty minutes.”
    “Twenty minutes to get caught standing out here. Now move.”
    She didn’t like the urgency in his tone. Cameron might not be a fortune teller, but his powers of intuition were positively ghostly. She got down on her hands and knees and bumped her head lightly against the small door. It popped inward. Fetid air rushed out. She sat back, held her breath.
    For a moment, she thought she heard the echo of a voice. Max. Maaxx.
    Her pulse raced. Oh God, please God, don’t make me go in there. Bad idea. Really bad idea.
    “Go,” Cameron hissed behind her.
    Even as she pushed the door all the way open, she wondered why the hell she always did what he told her. Inside, the house was pitch-black. After a few seconds, her eyes adjusted, and monsterish forms began to loom, than coalesce. The refrigerator. The stove. A butcher block table. The counters.
    Her knees tingled against the cold concrete outside, and she shoved the rest of the way through without giving herself time to think. Until her hips got caught. Damn. She wiggled, then wriggled. Jees, maybe her hips weren’t as boyish as she thought. Then a chill rushed up from her exposed feet and legs. It was like having your arms sticking out of the covers on a cold, dark, scary night when you just knew something was hiding under the bed, breathing, waiting.
    “Damn you, Cameron.”
    “Think thin.” He sounded like an advertisement for Weight Watchers.
    She pushed back and out. Her hips freed, and she tried