Body of Evidence by Stella Cameron

Author:Stella Cameron [Stella Cameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MIRA
Published: 2012-10-22T04:00:00+00:00

18

“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Barnes?” Finn barely stopped himself from giving the man a kick in the gut. “Get the fuck inside and pull your goddamn self together.”

Shit, what had he done?

Clinging to the doorjamb, Rusty clawed his way to his feet. Finn got a good look at the man’s face and rolled his eyes. No one would believe it if Rusty explained how he stood on the wrong side of a broom head and got whopped in the kisser by the handle.

Why did I do it? I never lashed out like that before.

Leaning on Finn, who held him around the waist, Rusty staggered into the house, and Finn kicked the door shut.

“Bloody hell,” Rusty said. “I was going to say I wouldn’t want to meet you on a dark night, but I just did. I’ll have you for murder.” Blood drizzled from his nose and split lip.

“I haven’t killed you,” Finn pointed out, steering for the kitchen.

“Bloody well have,” Rusty mumbled. “On my way out. I can feel myself going.”

Finn wouldn’t have taken Rusty Barnes for a man with a sense of humor. He was probably delirious.

That was when Rusty’s legs crumpled and Finn barely managed to keep him from collapsing to the floor. He half dragged, half carried him to the kitchen and dumped him on a chair.

“Came to tell you something,” Rusty said, slurring each word. He put bloodstained hands on the table and rested his forehead on top. “Damned if I will now. I don’t need a friend like you. What the fuck’s your problem, anyway?” With his dark red hair looking as if he’d done it in a blender, he raised his head, turned his face from side to side trying to focus on Finn.

Sometimes you came clean because the alternative would land you in more of a mess. “PTSS. Haven’t had much trouble lately, but it must have been the way you touched me.” And the way he’d relived hell once already tonight. The stupid sonof-a-gun had landed his solid hand right on the spot where Finn’s scars converged.

“Post-traumatic stress syndrome,” Rusty muttered, opening his eyes wide and blinking—as if it would help his vision. “If I had to go fight, I’d go, but I’m buggered if I’d volunteer. Turns you into weird sods who attack innocent people in the dark. I suppose I should be glad you didn’t have some damn great gun ready. Isn’t that what you were, a shooter?”

“Yes,” he said, but thought better than to produce the pistol from the back of his jeans. “Now shut up and let me clean this mess.”

“I’m going to sue your ass,” Rusty said. One eye had almost swollen shut.

“I’ll sue your ass first,” Finn said. “Trespass. Attack.”

“Attack?” Rusty’s voice broke.

“Your word against mine.”

Rusty laughed and moaned as his split lip opened wider. “Look at you and look at me. Who are they going to believe?”

“Me. I’m the one with the special training.”

It could have been anyone who came up behind him. Aaron…or Emma.

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