Read Online London Dusk (A Dawn to Dusk Novella) by Leigh K. Hunt - Free Book Online
Authors: Leigh K. Hunt
Ads: Link
do this, Mack," I spoke quietly at my reflection. "You can totally do this. Millions have done this before you and for a lot less."
I turned on the faucet and filled up a glass with water and drank it back. A n unfamiliar sound met my ears. A split second later, I heard a thud. I froze. "What the fuck?" I whispered. After a few moments of straining to hear, all I could distinguish was the sound of the music playing. I crept over to the bathroom door and inched it open.
There was a man standing in the room. Holding a gun.
My hand flew to my mouth. I could see Darren on the floor , unmoving. I swallowed, feeling every heartbeat, but containing myself. Seemed the higher dose of rescue remedy was actually working. I quietly closed the bathroom door, but not without hearing a slight click as the latch fell into place. I didn't dare turn the lock because that would make even more noise. Biting my bottom lip, I could hear my blood pumping through my system as I looked around the bathroom for some place to hide. I ran to the vanity, sweeping the handbag contents off the counter and back into my bag. The only place to hide in was the shower. I grabbed my white jacket, removed my shoes, and went and stood in the shower, pulling the opaque glass door closed as quietly as I could – hoping that he wouldn't be able to see me through it. I looked at the shower's white tiled walls and then down at my white dress, swallowing. I had to hope that either the killer wouldn't come in here, or I would blend in.
I was trying not to breathe too loudly. All I had to do was wait until the man had taken whatever he wanted and left. Then I could call in hotel security or whoever it was that dealt with these things. I swallowed. I should have turned off the bathroom light.
I wasn 't cut out for this. I had seen my parents die, but my mind had blocked those memories as they were too traumatic. Other than them, I had never once seen a dead body. Even when my grandparents died, it was closed casket. I pursed my lips together. There had been a lot of blood around Darren. Adrenaline was ramping me up, making me want to run. I looked around the bathroom, but there were no windows anywhere. This was an internal bathroom that only had an extraction duct.
I did not want to die. I couldn 't.
I wondered if he was gone yet. I reached for the shower door and was about to open it when I heard someone walk into the bathroom. I shrank away, with my back against the wall.
I could see a fuzzy silhouette of the man through the opaque door. He was tall. Dark hair. Dark clothing. I didn't dare breathe as he got closer to the shower. I braced myself, slowly raising a shoe in one hand; it had a particularly nasty stiletto heel on it and was the only thing I had to defend myself if push came to shove.
F reezing water blasted out of the showerheads, drenching me. I screamed.
The door was suddenly thrown open , and I found myself staring into an amused face. With a gun pointed at me. He shut the water off. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed the shower faucets were on the outside. I wanted to smack my head with stupidity, but instead, I stood there drenched, fury filling me as I stared right into the eyes of the man that had killed Darren.
" Stay right where you are," he said, his voice silky as his eyes assessed how waterlogged I was. I couldn't tell what nationality he was. He was almost African looking, but then he also looked Mediterranean, or even maybe from the Middle East somewhere. His accent was most definitely a Londoner's, though. His eyes weren't dark. They were golden. And they were entertained as they assessed me.
That pissed me off even more. "Honestly and truly, does it look like I'm going anywhere?"
He cocked a surprised eyebrow at me, his eyes never leaving my face. "Who are you?"
"That's none of your goddamn business." I threw him my haughtiest look. When he smirked at me, it infuriated me even more. "Who the hell are you is more to the
I turned on the faucet and filled up a glass with water and drank it back. A n unfamiliar sound met my ears. A split second later, I heard a thud. I froze. "What the fuck?" I whispered. After a few moments of straining to hear, all I could distinguish was the sound of the music playing. I crept over to the bathroom door and inched it open.
There was a man standing in the room. Holding a gun.
My hand flew to my mouth. I could see Darren on the floor , unmoving. I swallowed, feeling every heartbeat, but containing myself. Seemed the higher dose of rescue remedy was actually working. I quietly closed the bathroom door, but not without hearing a slight click as the latch fell into place. I didn't dare turn the lock because that would make even more noise. Biting my bottom lip, I could hear my blood pumping through my system as I looked around the bathroom for some place to hide. I ran to the vanity, sweeping the handbag contents off the counter and back into my bag. The only place to hide in was the shower. I grabbed my white jacket, removed my shoes, and went and stood in the shower, pulling the opaque glass door closed as quietly as I could – hoping that he wouldn't be able to see me through it. I looked at the shower's white tiled walls and then down at my white dress, swallowing. I had to hope that either the killer wouldn't come in here, or I would blend in.
I was trying not to breathe too loudly. All I had to do was wait until the man had taken whatever he wanted and left. Then I could call in hotel security or whoever it was that dealt with these things. I swallowed. I should have turned off the bathroom light.
I wasn 't cut out for this. I had seen my parents die, but my mind had blocked those memories as they were too traumatic. Other than them, I had never once seen a dead body. Even when my grandparents died, it was closed casket. I pursed my lips together. There had been a lot of blood around Darren. Adrenaline was ramping me up, making me want to run. I looked around the bathroom, but there were no windows anywhere. This was an internal bathroom that only had an extraction duct.
I did not want to die. I couldn 't.
I wondered if he was gone yet. I reached for the shower door and was about to open it when I heard someone walk into the bathroom. I shrank away, with my back against the wall.
I could see a fuzzy silhouette of the man through the opaque door. He was tall. Dark hair. Dark clothing. I didn't dare breathe as he got closer to the shower. I braced myself, slowly raising a shoe in one hand; it had a particularly nasty stiletto heel on it and was the only thing I had to defend myself if push came to shove.
F reezing water blasted out of the showerheads, drenching me. I screamed.
The door was suddenly thrown open , and I found myself staring into an amused face. With a gun pointed at me. He shut the water off. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed the shower faucets were on the outside. I wanted to smack my head with stupidity, but instead, I stood there drenched, fury filling me as I stared right into the eyes of the man that had killed Darren.
" Stay right where you are," he said, his voice silky as his eyes assessed how waterlogged I was. I couldn't tell what nationality he was. He was almost African looking, but then he also looked Mediterranean, or even maybe from the Middle East somewhere. His accent was most definitely a Londoner's, though. His eyes weren't dark. They were golden. And they were entertained as they assessed me.
That pissed me off even more. "Honestly and truly, does it look like I'm going anywhere?"
He cocked a surprised eyebrow at me, his eyes never leaving my face. "Who are you?"
"That's none of your goddamn business." I threw him my haughtiest look. When he smirked at me, it infuriated me even more. "Who the hell are you is more to the
Similar Books
