Read Online Midnight Action by Elle Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elle Kennedy
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thump reached his ears. When he turned the corner and reached his targets, the sight he encountered made him gape.
“You really don’t know how to mind your own business, do you?” Noelle said in a dry voice.
Morgan stared at the dead body lying on the cement floor, then focused on the woman kneeling beside it. Without waiting for a response, Noelle stuck her hand in the stiff’s front pocket and pulled out a ziplocked plastic Baggie full of white powder.
“Hold on to this for me? I didn’t bring a purse and this needs to look like a robbery.”
The bag came sailing in his direction. Morgan caught it on instinct, all the while blinking at the macabre scene before him.
A puddle of blood pooled around the dead man’s head, courtesy of the sharp blade that had pierced his jugular. Noelle must have had that deadly six-incher stashed on her other thigh, the crazy bitch. And evidently she wasn’t overly attached to the knife, because she gracefully rose to her feet, leaving the blade lodged in her prey’s throat.
Morgan finally found his voice. “Should I even ask?”
She shrugged. “Marcel here was pissing off some very important people by dealing coke in their territory. He really should have known better.”
“So tonight was a job after all.”
“Obviously.” She brushed past him, fixing the bottom of her dress as she walked.
When she realized he hadn’t moved, she halted in her stiletto tracks and tossed a mild look over her shoulder. “You coming, Jim?”
Swallowing, he spared one last look at the lifeless body sprawled on the ground, then followed Noelle to the door.
Chapter 6
Nineteen years ago
With a bored look, René zipped up his pants and glanced at the bed. “Say one word to your mother about this and I’ll kill you both. Understand?”
“Yes,” Noelle whispered.
She waited until her stepfather had left the bedroom before allowing the anger to surface. She’d learned not to reveal her fury during their encounters. That only made the beatings worse.
Now, with the door closed, the impotent rage bubbled over. It burned her throat, tingled in her palms, surged through her blood.
She was going to kill the bastard. Goddamn it, she was. But not until she came up with a foolproof plan, one that didn’t result in her behind bars.
Dad can help.
She immediately banished the thought and stumbled off the sweat-soaked mattress. No, she would never go to her father for help. He couldn’t know about René. Ever.
She ran into her private bath, bare feet slapping the white marble floor. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was the epitome of elegance. Noelle ignored the raised bathtub and hurried into the enormous glass shower stall, where she cranked all four showerheads and adjusted the faucet not to warm, but scalding.
It didn’t take long for the blistering hot water to soak her naked body and wash away all traces of René, but it still wasn’t enough. She still had to scrub her skin raw with a scratchy loofah, scouring off the sweat and semen, the sickening scent of his cinnamon-flavored aftershave.
When she finally emerged from the steamy stall, her flesh was red and sore, and the rage sizzling inside her was just as potent as before. Soon, she reminded herself. Soon she’d be out of this hellhole.
But God, a month and a half seemed like a lifetime. A goddamn eternity.
In her bedroom, she grabbed random items of clothing from the antique mahogany armoire, dressing on autopilot, the frantic need to flee taking over. Breathing hard, she swiped her red leather Louis Vuitton purse from the white-upholstered Bergere chair in the corner of the room, then fumbled inside it for her phone and dialed Jim’s number with trembling fingers.
When his husky voice filled her ear, she almost keeled over with relief.
“Can I see you?” she blurted out.
He replied with no hesitation. “Of course. Come to my hotel?”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Noelle hung up and raced out the door, and
“You really don’t know how to mind your own business, do you?” Noelle said in a dry voice.
Morgan stared at the dead body lying on the cement floor, then focused on the woman kneeling beside it. Without waiting for a response, Noelle stuck her hand in the stiff’s front pocket and pulled out a ziplocked plastic Baggie full of white powder.
“Hold on to this for me? I didn’t bring a purse and this needs to look like a robbery.”
The bag came sailing in his direction. Morgan caught it on instinct, all the while blinking at the macabre scene before him.
A puddle of blood pooled around the dead man’s head, courtesy of the sharp blade that had pierced his jugular. Noelle must have had that deadly six-incher stashed on her other thigh, the crazy bitch. And evidently she wasn’t overly attached to the knife, because she gracefully rose to her feet, leaving the blade lodged in her prey’s throat.
Morgan finally found his voice. “Should I even ask?”
She shrugged. “Marcel here was pissing off some very important people by dealing coke in their territory. He really should have known better.”
“So tonight was a job after all.”
“Obviously.” She brushed past him, fixing the bottom of her dress as she walked.
When she realized he hadn’t moved, she halted in her stiletto tracks and tossed a mild look over her shoulder. “You coming, Jim?”
Swallowing, he spared one last look at the lifeless body sprawled on the ground, then followed Noelle to the door.
Chapter 6
Nineteen years ago
With a bored look, René zipped up his pants and glanced at the bed. “Say one word to your mother about this and I’ll kill you both. Understand?”
“Yes,” Noelle whispered.
She waited until her stepfather had left the bedroom before allowing the anger to surface. She’d learned not to reveal her fury during their encounters. That only made the beatings worse.
Now, with the door closed, the impotent rage bubbled over. It burned her throat, tingled in her palms, surged through her blood.
She was going to kill the bastard. Goddamn it, she was. But not until she came up with a foolproof plan, one that didn’t result in her behind bars.
Dad can help.
She immediately banished the thought and stumbled off the sweat-soaked mattress. No, she would never go to her father for help. He couldn’t know about René. Ever.
She ran into her private bath, bare feet slapping the white marble floor. Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was the epitome of elegance. Noelle ignored the raised bathtub and hurried into the enormous glass shower stall, where she cranked all four showerheads and adjusted the faucet not to warm, but scalding.
It didn’t take long for the blistering hot water to soak her naked body and wash away all traces of René, but it still wasn’t enough. She still had to scrub her skin raw with a scratchy loofah, scouring off the sweat and semen, the sickening scent of his cinnamon-flavored aftershave.
When she finally emerged from the steamy stall, her flesh was red and sore, and the rage sizzling inside her was just as potent as before. Soon, she reminded herself. Soon she’d be out of this hellhole.
But God, a month and a half seemed like a lifetime. A goddamn eternity.
In her bedroom, she grabbed random items of clothing from the antique mahogany armoire, dressing on autopilot, the frantic need to flee taking over. Breathing hard, she swiped her red leather Louis Vuitton purse from the white-upholstered Bergere chair in the corner of the room, then fumbled inside it for her phone and dialed Jim’s number with trembling fingers.
When his husky voice filled her ear, she almost keeled over with relief.
“Can I see you?” she blurted out.
He replied with no hesitation. “Of course. Come to my hotel?”
“I’ll be there soon.”
Noelle hung up and raced out the door, and
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