Read Online To Touch Poison by L. j. Charles - Free Book Online Page B

for the taxi dispatcher and gave the name of the hotel. “You know if they can arrange for a trip upriver?” he asked.
    Broken English aside, Jayme figured the dispatcher’s answer fell somewhere between “Are you crazy, man?” and “Don’t know nothin’.” It was impossible to tell.
    The ride was less than five miles and took fifteen holy-crap minutes. Apparently red lights and intersections were signals to speed up, make sudden turns without signaling, and belly-out on hills. Wide awake, Jayme unclenched his fingers from the door handle, and stuffed some money in the cabbie’s hand. You want to see Kaimi again, Jayme, avoid taxicabs.
    He escaped into the hotel lobby, shivering at the sudden wash of cool air. Why hadn’t he signed on for SEAL training when he was in the Navy? Something useful? Law school was no damn use in the field.
     
    KAIMI SIGNED IN AT THE hotel, pocketed her key, and dashed to an open elevator. Her head ached from the long day, and from not having time to truly process Eamon’s attack. She craved another shower, the hotter the better. Fresh towels, sheets, and clothes would be so welcome.
    She shoved the key into the lock, and heaved a sigh of relief when she shut and secured the door behind her. Flicking on the bedside lamp, she was glad to find the room adequate. Clean. She dumped her duffle on the floor and stretched tall, working the kinks out of her back. It had been a long ride in the jitney, and the chairs in the hospital waiting room were nothing short of brightly colored torture devices. After her shower, she’d treat herself to a long soak in the tub, and then round out the evening with room service that included a glass of wine, because tomorrow…oh, damn. Tomorrow she’d have to travel back to the lab. Unless she went AWOL.
    The first sob squeezed through her chest and climbed into her throat. She crumpled into a ball on the bed and let the tears fall, savoring the release of fury, humiliation, and fatigue. She was so flipping tired. Sleep finally absorbed her sobs, and eased her into a dreamless respite.
    While she slept, dark had crawled through the room, eating everything outside the small pool of pale light that spread from the bedside lamp. The startling shift in ambiance jolted Kaimi awake, and she jerked her Boss Jack from its sheath. Too dark. Too many corners she couldn’t see. She jumped to her feet and searched the room, turning on lights, and finally bringing her ragged breathing under control when the entire room came into bright focus. Better. Get it together, Kaimi. You’re stronger than this.
    She turned on the radio, searching for a station that played the soft rock and golden oldies that always seemed to soothe her, and then she worked the double ties from her bootlaces and kicked her feet free. Bliss. A glance at the clock confirmed she’d slept for over an hour. She chucked the rest of her clothes and climbed into the shower, hoping the blast of hot water would work the tension from her muscles and start to loosen the plaster binding her wrist. The soap wasn’t big on making suds, but it filled the sterile room with the fragrance of too-sweet lemon. Not jungle. And not the stink of Eamon’s sweat and medicinal breath. Her actions were so rote, so frantic that she didn’t realize she’d abraded the skin on her thigh until the sting of the hot water against raw flesh penetrated her frenzy. Two over-scrubbed showers in less than twenty-four hours was too much. She dropped the washcloth and planted her palms against the tile wall until her breathing evened out.
    Cranking the water off with a brisk twist, she toweled dry and slipped into a soft cotton t-shirt and fresh underwear. A shiver cascaded down her spine. The room was a comfortable temperature, but her fatigue had apparently messed with her body’s ability to regulate temperature. She snagged a blanket from the end of the bed and wrapped herself before calling room service to place an