Love and Armageddon by Rachel Anne Jones

Author:Rachel Anne Jones [Jones, Rachel Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798886530919
Publisher: Melange Books, LLC

NINETEEN

SING ALONG

I wake to the sound of someone pounding on our door. They pound so hard it shakes the barely intact hinges. My heart pounds erratically in my chest at the thought of dying in this lonely hotel room on the side of a no-name highway with dingy rooms that smell like yesterday’s takeout. I stare at the rattling door, my only exit. I wonder what’s waiting on the other side. I think I hear my heartbeat and I think I have tachycardia.

Hank interrupts my nightmare by stalking across the room in his shirtless glory and tight knit boxers that leave nothing to the imagination, including another part of his anatomy that is apparently very much awake. My eyes stumble across his front before flying back to the front door. I’m desperate to look anywhere but on shameless Hank who all but struts over to reach for the doorknob. He yanks the door wide open and lets in the enemy.

Five guys march in like a small army; guns included. Jenni and I stare at each other in fright. If I weren’t so terrified, I’d laugh out loud as I look over to see a curled-up Austin, cluelessly sound asleep on the couch. Somehow, I manage to get up off the bed and walk over to the edge of the couch. I poke Austin in the shoulder to wake him. He grunts a little, but that’s it. I lay my whole hand on his shoulder. I squeeze and shove. His hand reaches up to cover mine. He opens a sleepy eye and gives me a little boy smile with a hint of suggestion. For a split second, I forget we aren’t alone, until he looks past me. An alertness registers on his face. His hand drops from mine.

He maintains his calm and turns over to his back. He glances up at the guys who stand over him as if they’re not flanked by semi-automatic assault rifles strapped to their backs and rows of bullets strapped across their fronts like generic GI joes. Austin’s tell-tale smirk pops out as he winks at the biggest guy in the group. He gives him a forehead salute. “Good morning, soldier.” When this gets no response, Austin’s gaze skips down the row. He stops on the one from last night. “How’s your head, Rope?”

Rope’s eyes narrow, and he white-knuckles the butt of his gun as he turns to face Hank. “How does he know my name?”

“I’m psychedelic.” Austin answers with a straight face.

To my surprise and utter shock, terror-frozen Jenni lets out a laugh. I follow suit.

Hank frowns at Rope’s offending glare. “What difference does it make, Rope? He doesn’t know your last name.” I look down the line, noting the fat lips and black eyes, traces of Hank. “What are you all doing here?” He smirks at them. “Didn’t you get enough of me last night?”

The shortest, thickest, one steps up. He stares at Jenni with an intensity that makes me more than a little uncomfortable.

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