Read Online Walking After Midnight by Karen Robards - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Karen Robards
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She tried to dodge past him, only to be stopped by his hand on her arm.
„Frankenstein?“ He – almost – sounded like he was on the verge of laughing.
„It’s what you look like. And let go of my arm.“
„Not – “ He broke off, arrested. Summer heard it too: the thick, beaten-air sound of helicopter blades.
„A chopper.“ His voice was hard suddenly. The hand that gripped her arm tightened until it hurt. „Get in the van! Go!“
Summer had no choice. Before she could move, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her off her feet, and practically threw her through the van’s open door.
„Jesus, what do you weigh?“ he panted, swarming in after her and using a hand on her rump to shove her off the passenger seat, where she had landed on all fours.
„Are you always this obnoxious, or are you making a special effort just for me?“ Summer hit the floor between the seats with a force that sent a stab of pain through her right knee. Her left knee was spared simply because it didn’t quite touch the ground. There wasn’t room.
„Get down!“
The door slammed shut. He was on top of her, squashing her into the narrow space between the seats, covering her body with his. Summer lay half on her side, in miserable discomfort, suffocating from the smell of him, the heat of his body, his weight.
„You’re not exactly a featherweight yourself, you know,“ she growled, trying to extricate herself and ending up flat on her back.
„Pure muscle. And everybody knows that muscle weighs more than fat.“
„Yeah, right.“
This time Summer was sure of his grin as the interior of the van was suddenly flooded with bright light. What on earth…? A searchlight. Of course, the helicopter was equipped with a searchlight. Was it a police helicopter, then? Had someone heard the gunfire and dialed 911? If so, they were saved! All they had to do was jump out and flag it down! From the sound of it, it was almost directly overhead.
„It could be the police!“ Summer wriggled and squirmed, trying to work free without success. Though he stayed atop with the tenacity of a barnacle, she did manage to inch backward till she reached the center of the van, where she lay panting on her back in the narrow space left between two stacks of cargo piled chest-high against either wall. Her flailing arms dislodged a furniture blanket, which slid over them with the suddenness of a dropped curtain. Instantly they were cocooned in suffocating darkness.
„Could be.“ His breath surged warm and moist against her neck as she clawed the musty-smelling blanket away from her face. Drawing in a lungful of fresh air, she shoved at his shoulder. He didn’t budge. His chest crushed her breasts and his legs were heavy as logs against hers. He was as hard, and heavy, as a piece of furniture.
„Let me up! We need to make sure – and flag it down, if it’s the police!“ Her struggle to get loose only tangled the blanket more closely around them. Only her head and her arms were free. She tugged vainly at the heavy gray folds.
„I don’t think you quite get the picture, Rosencrans. We – “
The implosion of the windshield interrupted him. Pebbles of glass ricocheted through the van like BBs outfitted with turbochargers. Summer cringed as they pinged and ratded all around her. One stung her neck and she flinched, crying out.
Frankenstein cursed, wrapping his body more closely about hers, pulling the blanket over their heads. Suddenly she was extremely glad of his solid bulk atop her and the protection of the blanket.
The passenger window shattered as what sounded like a hailstorm pounded the sides and roof of the van. Whoever was in the helicopter was shooting at them. Definitely not the police.
„Who are those guys?“ she moaned as kaleidoscopic visions of the cut-down-by-a-barrage-of-gunfire end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid danced in her brain.
To which he replied, „You tell me.“
Under any other circumstances, she would
„Frankenstein?“ He – almost – sounded like he was on the verge of laughing.
„It’s what you look like. And let go of my arm.“
„Not – “ He broke off, arrested. Summer heard it too: the thick, beaten-air sound of helicopter blades.
„A chopper.“ His voice was hard suddenly. The hand that gripped her arm tightened until it hurt. „Get in the van! Go!“
Summer had no choice. Before she could move, he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her off her feet, and practically threw her through the van’s open door.
„Jesus, what do you weigh?“ he panted, swarming in after her and using a hand on her rump to shove her off the passenger seat, where she had landed on all fours.
„Are you always this obnoxious, or are you making a special effort just for me?“ Summer hit the floor between the seats with a force that sent a stab of pain through her right knee. Her left knee was spared simply because it didn’t quite touch the ground. There wasn’t room.
„Get down!“
The door slammed shut. He was on top of her, squashing her into the narrow space between the seats, covering her body with his. Summer lay half on her side, in miserable discomfort, suffocating from the smell of him, the heat of his body, his weight.
„You’re not exactly a featherweight yourself, you know,“ she growled, trying to extricate herself and ending up flat on her back.
„Pure muscle. And everybody knows that muscle weighs more than fat.“
„Yeah, right.“
This time Summer was sure of his grin as the interior of the van was suddenly flooded with bright light. What on earth…? A searchlight. Of course, the helicopter was equipped with a searchlight. Was it a police helicopter, then? Had someone heard the gunfire and dialed 911? If so, they were saved! All they had to do was jump out and flag it down! From the sound of it, it was almost directly overhead.
„It could be the police!“ Summer wriggled and squirmed, trying to work free without success. Though he stayed atop with the tenacity of a barnacle, she did manage to inch backward till she reached the center of the van, where she lay panting on her back in the narrow space left between two stacks of cargo piled chest-high against either wall. Her flailing arms dislodged a furniture blanket, which slid over them with the suddenness of a dropped curtain. Instantly they were cocooned in suffocating darkness.
„Could be.“ His breath surged warm and moist against her neck as she clawed the musty-smelling blanket away from her face. Drawing in a lungful of fresh air, she shoved at his shoulder. He didn’t budge. His chest crushed her breasts and his legs were heavy as logs against hers. He was as hard, and heavy, as a piece of furniture.
„Let me up! We need to make sure – and flag it down, if it’s the police!“ Her struggle to get loose only tangled the blanket more closely around them. Only her head and her arms were free. She tugged vainly at the heavy gray folds.
„I don’t think you quite get the picture, Rosencrans. We – “
The implosion of the windshield interrupted him. Pebbles of glass ricocheted through the van like BBs outfitted with turbochargers. Summer cringed as they pinged and ratded all around her. One stung her neck and she flinched, crying out.
Frankenstein cursed, wrapping his body more closely about hers, pulling the blanket over their heads. Suddenly she was extremely glad of his solid bulk atop her and the protection of the blanket.
The passenger window shattered as what sounded like a hailstorm pounded the sides and roof of the van. Whoever was in the helicopter was shooting at them. Definitely not the police.
„Who are those guys?“ she moaned as kaleidoscopic visions of the cut-down-by-a-barrage-of-gunfire end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid danced in her brain.
To which he replied, „You tell me.“
Under any other circumstances, she would
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