Read Online The White House: A Flynn Carroll Thriller by Whitley Strieber - Free Book Online Page B

Abby.”
    The words hung between them. She knew that Flynn’s wife Abby had disappeared, and that it had had to do with the aliens, but very little more. She did not know of his relentless search for her, or the fact that he’d originally been recruited into the detail by Diana because of his tireless determination to find her.
    â€œAbby was kidnapped,” he said evenly.
    â€œBy them!”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œCome on, I’m not stupid! The aliens, and now they’re here, they’re in the White House and they killed Al Doxy.” She shuddered, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Beheaded him.”
    â€œWe don’t know who was responsible. Not exactly.”
    She threw herself on Flynn. A bitter rack of sobs engulfed her. He held her shaking body. Soon he felt himself stirring. He wished it down. But wishes don’t always come true, and this one definitely did not. His arousal made her feel more in control, and she leaned against his chest. The smell of her hair—fresh, sweet straw—filled his nostrils.
    â€œFlynn, I don’t want to die.”
    â€œI’m here to protect you, and I’m going to do that.”
    She leaned away from his chest so that she could look up at him. “For how long? One night? Two?”
    â€œAs long as it takes.”
    Her eyes were darting indicators of panic.
    â€œAre they in here now? Right now?”
    He wanted to be truthful, but if he told her the truth, which was that he didn’t know, she was only going to get into a worse state.
    â€œWhy not go back to Austin? It’s a city, so it’s fairly safe. Stay in a big condo, lower floor. There’s no public reason for you to remain here. Or your mother, for that matter.”
    â€œMom’s President of the United States. She can’t take off and leave the alky in charge.”
    â€œIs your dad hitting the bottle again?” Bill was known to binge.
    â€œHe’s been quoting Ecclesiastes and smoking cigars.”
    â€œNot good.” That was his first phase, when he had about half a pint of bourbon in him. If he kept going, in a couple more days he’d be so drunk he couldn’t move, collapsed on a floor somewhere and wallowing in his vomit. Years ago, when that had happened in the old Faust Hotel in Menard, Flynn had been the one to clean him off with a garden hose, pour him into the bed of a pickup, and drive him back to the Governor’s Mansion. (Lorna’s revenge fire had taken place later.)
    Cissy went to the sitting area across the room. He wished—he dearly wished—that she wasn’t completely naked.
    She had inherited her mother’s brains, though, and this was, he knew, a carefully crafted effort to determine if there were any seduction possibilities. She’d been expecting him in her web tonight, pretty spider.
    Part of him thought, “Oh good.” Another part thought, “Oh God.”
    Diana would say to him, “It’s not a big deal, we’re not a thing. I don’t mind.” Then she’d tear up, and that would hurt. He surprised himself, realizing how much she mattered to him. More and more, Di’s feelings mattered.
    He went to the closet and found a fluffy, flimsy robe. As he strode to the sitting area, he tossed it to her.
    She gave him a too-bright smile, experience playing at innocence. As she got comfortable in the cushiony chair, her legs opened. She was not one to give up easily.
    She hadn’t picked up the robe. He laid it across her shoulders.
    â€œReally?”
    He sat opposite her.
    â€œI’m not a kid anymore.”
    â€œNeither am I, Cissy. But you’re real stressed.”
    â€œI want you. I think about you all the time.”
    â€œThat’s the fear talking. You think you want me, but what you really want is what I’m already here to give you, which is protection.”
    â€œHe was my age, Flynn. So is this about kids? Am I