Out Of Control. Shannon McKenna

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СКАЧАТЬ no point in flapping my jaw about my personal problems if you don’t—”

      “I’ve changed my mind about not taking on any more cases.”

      Startled silence stretched out after his words. Her subtle shadow weighed on him, teasing him like a painful dream that slipped out of reach of conscious thought, leaving sick dread lingering in its wake.

      It was a familiar feeling. The cases that he gave a shit about always haunted him. But the haunting didn’t usually start so quickly.

      Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Actually, I wasn’t proposing to hire you. The plain truth is, I’m too broke to pay you. I just wanted to bounce it off somebody. My dog is tired of hearing me talk about it.”

      “So bounce it off me,” he said. “While we eat.”

      She bit her lip, her eyes big and apprehensive. “Your vibes are really intense, McCloud. And it’s been a long day, and I’d just like to relax and hang out with my dog tonight. So thanks for the dinner invite, but no thanks. And you can get out of my way now. Any time.”

      “I’ll tone my vibes down,” he said. “I’ll get takeout while you get your dog, and meet you at your place.”

      She shook her head rapidly. “Not. You will do no such thing.”

      Her withdrawal made him feel desperate, as if a boat he should have boarded was pulling away without him. She tried to slide between him and the wall. He blocked her with an arm in front and one behind.

      “Wait,” he pleaded. “Just a second.”

      “What the hell?” She lashed out.

      He snagged her flailing hand out of the air before she could smack him with it. “Calm down,” he urged. “This is serious. I want to—”

      “Don’t you dare touch me!” She flung her knee up.

      He spun sideways in an automatic reflex to protect his balls, and ended up pinning her against the wall. It happened so fast, and suddenly his nose was full of her scent, her soft hair tickled his mouth, and her lithe curves were pressed against the full length of his body.

      She was trembling. Scared of him.

      He let go instantly and backed away, horrified. “Jesus. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I swear.”

      She stared at him, panting. She put one hand over her mouth, then pressed both hands against the hectic blush that stained her sharp cheekbones. He prayed for her not to look down. Tried to hold her gaze like a tractor beam, willing her, don’t look down, don’t look—

      She looked down. He was busted. Heat surged up into his face.

      “Holy cripes,” she whispered. “You freak.”

      “I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to grope you. I don’t know what got into me.”

      Her gaze flicked back down to his crotch, and she snorted. “Oh, I think I could maybe take a wild guess.”

      He floundered around in his mind for a justification for his bizarre behavior, and found none. “I just didn’t want you to, uh, go away mad.”

      She shook with a burst of dry laughter. “Smooth, McCloud. Very smooth. I’ve got a little social tip for you. Remember to take your anti-psychotic meds on schedule from now on, OK?”

      The glass window with McCloud Martial Arts Academy stenciled on it rattled in the door frame with the force of her parting slam.

      Chapter

      3

      Mikey was going to make her pay for leaving him at the pet hotel. The extent of his hurt and outrage was evident in the rigidity of his small body as she carried him up the steps to her porch. She braced herself against sick dread as she peeked into the shadows to make sure that something horrible wasn’t draped over her doormat.

      Nothing today. Snakey the Sicko Maniac was taking the day off.

      Air came slowly back into her lungs as she unlocked the door. She flipped on the urban blight light, a naked dangling bulb specifically designed to highlight water damage and plaster cracks, to say nothing of undereye circles and assorted facial blemishes. She loathed the thing, but her nice lamps had been smashed in the break-in. She was stuck with the urban blight light till she got her act together. Though the way her life was going, that day seemed to get more distant all the time.

      She set Mikey gently on the floor. He shook himself and sniffed around with remote puzzlement, as if to say, What is this place? I scarcely remember it…or you. He turned his back on her and limped, slowly and pitifully, towards the kitchen.

      Of course, he’d always limped, since the day she’d found him. She’d found him half-dead on the side of the road seven months ago, after her flight from California had finally landed her in Seattle. A car had fractured his back legs. The vet had recommended putting him down immediately, but she’d never been known for her propensity for following sensible advice. She’d nursed him through it with her own intuitive version of dog physical therapy, taking on the task of saving Mikey as if he were a symbol of everything in life worth saving. And if she pulled it off, things would eventually be OK for her again, too.

      Silly and superstitious, maybe, but it didn’t matter, since Mikey the Wonder Mutt was his own reward. Smart, devoted, and the most shameless manipulator she’d ever known. His hitching gait made her heart hurt. He was probably playing it up to make her feel bad, but she knew from experience that aches and pains were worse when you felt depressed and abandoned. Why should it be any different for Mikey?

      Besides, if he was faking it, she forgave him the ploy. He was a little dog. Old, too, in dog years. He had to use what weapons were available to him. Now there was a concept she could relate to.

      She peeled off her clammy workout gear as she trailed into the kitchen after Mikey, and ran a basin full of water with a capful of laundry soap. Mikey climbed into his basket, did his compulsive three and a half turns, and flopped down with a dejected sigh.

      She let out a dejected sigh herself as she dunked her spandex into the suds. A quickie shower in her mildewy bathroom was next, after which some sloppy sweatpants, her big Superman T-shirt, and she felt almost human. She rummaged for her comb in the basket on her dresser. Her fingers closed around the heavy gold snake pendant.

      She pulled the thing out and tried to stare down the sense of dread it gave her. She wished the thief had taken this instead of her laptop. It was worth more money, and she would have been grateful to be rid of it. She should pawn the nasty thing. The money would be tainted, but she’d get over it. Vet bills had to be paid somehow.

      She knew why she hung onto it, though she didn’t like to admit it. The pendant was the only key she had to the nightmare puzzle her life had become. It was like a magical talisman. If she got rid of it, she might be trapped in this lonesome gray nowhere forever. No way out.

      Whoops, don’t go there. She couldn’t let herself think that way, even briefly. The only way to keep her sanity was to stay focused on the present moment. Breathing in, breathing out, and grateful to be alive.

      She headed into the kitchen and hunkered СКАЧАТЬ