No Turning Back by Marcus Sakey

Author:Marcus Sakey
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781407083186
Publisher: Transworld

CHAPTER 18

WHAT WAS IT with women and their showers?

She had ten kinds of shampoo and conditioner, body lotion in tropical flavors, a couple of things of exfoliant, whatever that was, a washcloth, a loofah, two bright pink razors, and a scrub thing. But bar soap? No.

Mitch settled on coconut-lime body gel. You were probably supposed to put it on the scrub thing first, but that seemed like too presumptuous an intimacy. He grinned at that, considering he’d touched and licked every inch of her last night. Still. He squirted the stuff on his hands, rubbed his armpits, his shoulders, his crotch.

He felt better than good, filled with a sense that everything was going to work out OK. He’d always envied that in other people. Happier, better-looking, richer people. They had a basic belief that the world would line up the way they wanted, and it usually did.

Well, now it was his turn.

Don’t get cocky. You’re not out of trouble yet. Standing under the showerhead, hot water plastering his hair, running down his back, he thought through it again. Checking and rechecking, for the hundredth time.

Best he could tell, once they finished what they had to do today, they’d be clear. As long as they stayed cool and everyone did what they were supposed to, nothing should tie them to last night.

Once things had quieted down, they could tell the others about them. Jenn was nervous, he could understand that; hell, so was he. But now that she had finally seen him, he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it worked out.

Starting with them not getting caught. Best get moving. He reluctantly shut off the water, slid open the shower door, and reached for the towel Jenn had left, a big puffy thing. Where was the best place to abandon a car? A parking lot? Or maybe a rough neighborhood would be better. That made sense. He’d do a little Googling, find out where the most cars where stolen. Then run the Caddy through a detail shop to be sure there weren’t any traces, leave it with the windows open and the keys in the ignition. Even if the police found it first, it wouldn’t be a disaster. They’d just trace it back to the drug dealer—

Holy shit.

How had he missed that?

She was leaning on the counter, drinking a Diet Coke and thinking about that feeling of impending disaster, wondering what it meant. Were they being stupid even now? Should they go straight to the police and tell them everything? A big part of her wanted to, wanted to confess and get absolution, a detective standing in for a priest.

Absolution? You killed someone last night.

The liquid in her mouth went bitter, and she set the soda down, listened to the hum of the hot-water pipes. Mitch had asked if she minded if he showered, and while yeah, she kind of did, she didn’t know how to say that. It wasn’t that she wanted him gone for good or anything.

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