Read Online Twisted by Jay Bonansinga - Free Book Online

moisture from her face and tried to make her way across the deck toward the opposite corner of the pool, using the chain-link fence poles as leverage, but it wasn’t easy. She could only move a few tentative inches now with each step. The wind was like an invisible anchor mooring her to the cement. The collar of her linen cover-up was flapping so hard it felt as though someone were slapping her.
    Finally the blouse literally blew off her back like a papery skin shed into the wind, revealing her meticulously tanned, surgically enhanced bosoms nestled in a revealing leopard-print bikini top.
    Another surge erupted over the breakwater.
    Suzanne froze, gaping up at the enormous white monolith rising into the sky. It looked like a huge albino dinosaur climbing up over the breakwater, coming for her. Suzanne’s heart rose in her throat. The monster suddenly burst apart in the wind, sending a wave of wet sand spraying across the pool deck. The wave struck Suzanne’s legs with the force of a battering ram, knocking her feet out from under her.
    She fell then, sprawling across the deck, skidding sideways, her oiled body as slick as a slug, skating across the sand-lashed cement until she smashed into the side of the cabana. The impact sent pain bolting up her back, and she gasped for breath, trying to get her bearings. Slowly, agonizingly, she began crawling toward the office, toward the safety of the side screen door, which was hanging open, banging wildly in the wind. She got maybe five or six feet closer when another great spasm of white sand roared over the breakwater.
    The wave flung her against the building, slamming her into the bricks with enough force to crack her lovely capped molars. She let out an involuntary yelp, the pain was so sudden, so searing, so sharp in her ribs. It knifed up her side and seized her left arm. Not yet, not yet, NOT YET! her brain screamed at the storm.
    Now Suzanne was crawling on her tummy toward the flapping door. It was only about ten feet away. Just ten feet . But her left leg was deadweight now, as if she were dragging a huge sandbar, and the wind was a freight train, and the deck was shifting beneath her, shifting and seething with soupy waves of sand. Suzanne could barely see.
    Eight feet now.
    Another gusher of sand levitated off the beach and crashed down on the deck, shoving Suzanne Kennerly sideways. She howled in pain, but somehow she kept going, kept crawling toward that flapping screen door and the safety behind it.
    Six feet now.
    Five now.
    Four.
    Three.
    Two—and all at once Suzanne grabbed hold of the jamb with her cold, stiff, manicured fingers.
    With every last shred of strength she pulled himself inside the doorway, dragging her numb leg behind her. Pain burned up her left side. Her vision blurred. But she ignored it all and managed to crawl inside the office.
    She slammed the door with her one good leg, then collapsed. The office was dark.
    Lying there, dripping wet, gasping for breath, Suzanne could not for the life of her remember if she had forgotten to turn on the office lights or if the power had flared out due to the storm. It was the middle of the day yet it was so dark. Like night. What was happening? The pain in her hip was disorienting her, making it hard to figure anything out.
    A noise behind her, something shifting in the shadows of the office.
    Suzanne managed to twist around enough to see a shape lurking in the corner. Was it that asshole Koz’s German shepherd? Keven Koz owned the Gulf Breeze Motor Court a hundred yards south of the Sea Ray, and his fleabag of a dog would sometimes slip into unattended offices to wait out storms. But wait ... no ... this silhouette was human. Tall and dark and slender and silent, and human , and holding something that dangled like a pendulum.
    â€œWho the hell are you?” Suzanne’s voice was strained above the muffled roar the hurricane.
    The shadowy figure pounced.
    Suzanne tried to call out but