Read Online The Rhythm of Rain by C. L. Scholey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. L. Scholey
Tags: Fiction
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swapped off driving duty. All it took was a pleading word from Rain, and Telor kept the car at a steady high speed while Rain slept fitfully off and on, her head in his lap. Jaron was propped up in the backseat against the door. Telor could see him in the rearview mirror. Though Jaron's eyes were closed, Telor wondered if the man actually slept.
It was early morning when Telor pulled onto the long adjoining driveway. The house looked deserted and he felt Rain tremble.
"Oh no," she whispered. "We're too late."
Telor got out of the car, grateful now that Jaron had demanded they use his vehicle. Telor's pickup never would have made the return trip unless they stopped occasionally to allow his truck to cool off.
"Maybe we beat Carver," Telor muttered. "You know Grams keeps every light in the house off unless it's necessary. And Papa would be keeping a close eye out. Don't sell him short, Rain. He's a cagey old man."
"Come on," Jaron said, moving toward the house.
It was all Telor could do to keep Rain from racing forward. The home was quiet when they entered. They moved on silent feet, expecting something. Rain fingered a note on Telor's kitchen table.
"What's it say?" Telor asked, dreading her response. He expected it to be a ransom note or a death threat.
"It says Papa took Grams to the police." Telor could hear her relief.
"It means you better talk now," came a brutal voice.
Rain screamed when Carver grabbed Telor by the throat and threw him into a wall.
Chapter Ten
Carver dove for Rain, but Jaron was quicker and intercepted the man. Rain could see by the look on Jaron's face he wasn't going to run from Carver this time. Jaron was a full-grown man and he was furious. Rain stumbled out of their way as the men fought. She raced to Telor and helped him as he struggled to his feet. Rain covered her mouth when Carver pulled out a knife and slashed it toward Jaron.
Rain was horrified, but Jaron was donning a sinister grin. Carver returned the evil look. It made Rain shudder when Jaron retrieved a sharp kitchen knife from a wooden block and waved it back and forth. Both men looked deadly. Each looked comfortable with a weapon. Telor pulled her behind him.
"You ready to be charged with murder again?" Carver sneered.
"I'll be doing the world a favor when I kill you," Jaron retorted.
"Oh, I don't mean me," Carver said and motioned toward Rain and Telor. "After I kick your ass and this pretty little thing tells me what I want to know, you'll be left holding the bag—a bloody one."
Carver cast a lewd gaze at Rain that made her skin crawl. "I'll make you dance for me first, ballerina," he said and winked. "I plan on having some fun with you before I slit that tiny neck of yours."
"Why don't we dance?" Jaron snarled as he spat the words at Carver.
Carver lunged. Rain howled fearfully. The table was flipped; the chairs went flying. Powerful arms were locked against one another in a battle for dominance. Carver was barrel-chested and shorter. The shirt Jaron had stolen off a clothesline in the city was too small on him and ripped at the seams when his biceps bulged, then ripped straight down his back. Carver tore it from him.
Jaron threw Carver into Telor's glass door. The glass shattered, and when Carver landed outside his knife was on the ground. The man moved like a fleet-footed panther and picked up a jagged shard of the broken glass and sliced it toward Jaron's middle.
Telor leaped forward to help, and when he grabbed the hand holding the glass Carver punched him in the head with his other fist, sending Telor onto his knees. The glass was at Telor's throat, and as Carver positioned the edge to slit his throat Jaron made a swift cut down and sliced Carver's wrist. Jaron hit an artery. Blood spurted onto Telor's face and into his eyes.
Rain ran to Telor and dragged him back. She could faintly hear a police siren. Carver slammed his foot into Jaron's gut, sending him reeling back, and went for Rain. He had switched the
It was early morning when Telor pulled onto the long adjoining driveway. The house looked deserted and he felt Rain tremble.
"Oh no," she whispered. "We're too late."
Telor got out of the car, grateful now that Jaron had demanded they use his vehicle. Telor's pickup never would have made the return trip unless they stopped occasionally to allow his truck to cool off.
"Maybe we beat Carver," Telor muttered. "You know Grams keeps every light in the house off unless it's necessary. And Papa would be keeping a close eye out. Don't sell him short, Rain. He's a cagey old man."
"Come on," Jaron said, moving toward the house.
It was all Telor could do to keep Rain from racing forward. The home was quiet when they entered. They moved on silent feet, expecting something. Rain fingered a note on Telor's kitchen table.
"What's it say?" Telor asked, dreading her response. He expected it to be a ransom note or a death threat.
"It says Papa took Grams to the police." Telor could hear her relief.
"It means you better talk now," came a brutal voice.
Rain screamed when Carver grabbed Telor by the throat and threw him into a wall.
Chapter Ten
Carver dove for Rain, but Jaron was quicker and intercepted the man. Rain could see by the look on Jaron's face he wasn't going to run from Carver this time. Jaron was a full-grown man and he was furious. Rain stumbled out of their way as the men fought. She raced to Telor and helped him as he struggled to his feet. Rain covered her mouth when Carver pulled out a knife and slashed it toward Jaron.
Rain was horrified, but Jaron was donning a sinister grin. Carver returned the evil look. It made Rain shudder when Jaron retrieved a sharp kitchen knife from a wooden block and waved it back and forth. Both men looked deadly. Each looked comfortable with a weapon. Telor pulled her behind him.
"You ready to be charged with murder again?" Carver sneered.
"I'll be doing the world a favor when I kill you," Jaron retorted.
"Oh, I don't mean me," Carver said and motioned toward Rain and Telor. "After I kick your ass and this pretty little thing tells me what I want to know, you'll be left holding the bag—a bloody one."
Carver cast a lewd gaze at Rain that made her skin crawl. "I'll make you dance for me first, ballerina," he said and winked. "I plan on having some fun with you before I slit that tiny neck of yours."
"Why don't we dance?" Jaron snarled as he spat the words at Carver.
Carver lunged. Rain howled fearfully. The table was flipped; the chairs went flying. Powerful arms were locked against one another in a battle for dominance. Carver was barrel-chested and shorter. The shirt Jaron had stolen off a clothesline in the city was too small on him and ripped at the seams when his biceps bulged, then ripped straight down his back. Carver tore it from him.
Jaron threw Carver into Telor's glass door. The glass shattered, and when Carver landed outside his knife was on the ground. The man moved like a fleet-footed panther and picked up a jagged shard of the broken glass and sliced it toward Jaron's middle.
Telor leaped forward to help, and when he grabbed the hand holding the glass Carver punched him in the head with his other fist, sending Telor onto his knees. The glass was at Telor's throat, and as Carver positioned the edge to slit his throat Jaron made a swift cut down and sliced Carver's wrist. Jaron hit an artery. Blood spurted onto Telor's face and into his eyes.
Rain ran to Telor and dragged him back. She could faintly hear a police siren. Carver slammed his foot into Jaron's gut, sending him reeling back, and went for Rain. He had switched the
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