Deception (Southern Comfort) by O'Neill Lisa Clark

Author:O'Neill, Lisa Clark [O'Neill, Lisa Clark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-06-01T03:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

STUPID virus, Joey thought as he turned his Camaro onto his street. With all the idiot staff at the hospital out sick he’d been pulling double shifts for the past two days. He’d hardly had time to take a piss, let alone get over to the warehouse to poke at Karen. The dumb bitch was probably half dead by now, and wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. Still, he figured some fun was better than nothin’, so he’d go visiting after he caught some sleep. Then after he took care of business on that end, he needed to check in with the boss. Good old Donnie had been acting pretty funky lately. Joey had entertained himself for months by jabbing various “unresponsive” body parts with needles, amused to see the bed-ridden idiot flinch in some automatic reaction to pain, but the other day when he’d pricked Don-Don’s toe, Mr. Shits-His-Britches had started to seize. Nearly gave Joey a heart attack.

The way he saw it, Baby Sammy was probably right, and the guy wasn’t quite as big a vegetable as everyone thought. Joey figured it was high time to take him out. He would have gone ahead and taken care of that little problem on his own, but the boss had been incommunicado for the past few days, out of town and not answerin’ his damn cell phone. It would serve the bastard right if Donnie woke up and spilled his guts.

“Shit,” Joey muttered when he saw that some idiot had parked a white van in his spot. He lived in a townhouse and all the spaces had numbers on them which clearly showed who was supposed to be parking their shit where. Visitor spaces were out to the ass-end of the lot, so he’d have to circle around and walk just to get to his damn door. And it was cold as a bitch tonight. The damn south was supposed to be warm, wasn’t it? Otherwise, what was the point? He could have stayed in New York for this. Friggin’ cold front.

Giving the van a what-for as he walked past it, Joey pulled the collar of his jacket around his neck. He’d have to make sure to slit a tire, or key the paint job on his way back out. But for now, he just wanted a warm bed and a few hours sleep so that he had the energy to teach Karen a lesson.

Stupid bitch.

Joey kicked the door shut behind him, simultaneously shrugging out of his jacket. His arms tangled in the sleeves when he realized something was wrong. If he hadn’t been so damn tired he would have noticed it the second he walked in – the charged air, that little current that couldn’t be mistaken. He knew without a doubt that he was not alone in the room.

The snap of a lighter brought Joey’s head whipping that direction. With his hands caught as they were he had no way of reaching for his gun. But the flickering glow showed the familiar face, sitting casual as you please on Joey’s couch.

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