Wicked Is the Night by Catherine Mulvany

Author:Catherine Mulvany
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2008-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

Trick kept shooting concerned glances in Nevada’s direction, as if worried she was about to freak out. The truth was, she was miles beyond the freak-out threshold and fast approaching the zombie zone. But at least she wasn’t shuddering nonstop anymore. Hands buried in the pockets of her sweatshirt as much to hide their trembling as for warmth, she huddled in the passenger seat and stared at the road ahead, mesmerized into a fragile facsimile of calm by the comforting repetition of the dashed center line.

What if Trick hadn’t come along when he did?

The trembling in her hands immediately spread throughout her body.

No, she told herself. Don’t think about the what ifs. Think about the what nexts. The problem was, she wasn’t sure at this point what she should do next, though she knew at least one thing she shouldn’t do—return to Midas Lake. Now that Sarge was aware she’d been staying there all this time, he’d be back. Trick and Faraday might have frightened him off for a little while, but no way would he stay away. The first chance he got, he’d return, probably with reinforcements.

“Are you insane?” Trick asked suddenly.

She turned sideways to frown at him. “I don’t think so, but I was institutionalized and I do sometimes see things other people don’t, so who knows? Why do you ask?”

“You’re safe now,” he said.

“Yes, but—”

“No thanks to your own rash actions.”

“You think I encouraged those drunken punks?”

“Just being there that way—alone—was all the encouragement they needed. Why did you run away in the first place? What were you thinking?”

“I explained that in my note.”

He stared at her. “What note?”

“I left a note…on the…” She faltered to a halt, having spotted the napkin lying near her left foot. When Trick had opened the door to get inside, the napkin must have fluttered off onto the floor. So much for good intentions. “Never mind,” she said.

“But I do mind,” Trick said. “What if Sarge had been the one to stop for you?”

“When I first saw the Crown Victoria, I thought it was Sarge.”

“So did I.” He reached across to grasp her hand. “I was scared, Nevada.”

“Me, too,” she said. And then, damn it, she just dissolved, shaking and crying, incoherent and out of control.

Trick eased the Jeep to the side of the road, shifted into park, unfastened his shoulder harness, and pulled her as close as he could with the gearshift in the way. “Don’t,” he said.

As if she had a choice. As if…

His touch—both soothing and arousing—calmed and disturbed her at the same time. Tears slid faster and faster down her cheeks. She was shaking all over now, an 8.7 on the Richter scale.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re safe now.”

“Th-those boys…They wouldn’t have killed me. They might not even have raped me, but…”

“After Sarge’s attack earlier—”

“It was too much, too similar. I…don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

“Don’t think about it,” he said.

As if she could empty her mind that easily.

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