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contact. We re not giving up, Mel. This isn t over. It ll be over soon, I said. One way or the other. I hate to admit it, but it felt perversely good to be morose. I was tired, so damn tired. I didn t know if it was exhaustion or the toxin, but I deserved a breakdown, and if I couldn t have a full-fledged one, at least I could whine about it. This whole thing is like a train barreling down on us. On me. And I can t outrun it. Nobody could. You can, Stryker said. He hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up. His expression was so warm and tender, and I wanted to lose myself in his eyes. If anyone has the strength to fight this, you do. For that matter, so do I. We re going to win. We re going to show this asshole he picked the wrong two people to fuck with. I smiled a little at that, but I couldn t speak. I just nodded and tried to look confident and on top of things. In other words, I tried to look like the woman Stryker saw instead of the woman I knew he was looking at. Maybe it is a train, he said, continuing, but why does it have to run us over? What s stopping us from jumping on board and riding it all the way to the end? Catching this son of a bitch and ending this thing? This time, I didn t even try to smile. I was too busy turning his words over in my head. Over and over. A train, I d called it. It hadn t clicked then, not until Stryker had repeated the words back to me. It was a train. A train station, to be more exact. My pulse picked up tempo as excitement surged through my veins. I was right. I knew I was right. I damn well better be right. Come on, I said, taking Stryker s hand and tugging him toward me. We have to hurry. Chapter 35 T rains. That was the answer. It had to be. We d been staring right at it, but we d still managed to miss it. With Stryker looking on curiously, I clambered off the bed and parked myself in front of the computer. We were still logged on, so it took me no time at all to find what I was looking for. All I had to do was type C.P.R.R. inscription into a Google search, and there it was the confirmation that I was right. Central Pacific Rail Road, Stryker said, reading over my shoulder. So? Railroad, I spelled out. Central. Grand Central. I looked at him hopefully, but he wasn t catching on. Oh, come on, Stryker. The clue has to be referring to Grand Central Station. And fifteen s a locker number. I doubt it, Stryker said, totally raining on my parade. Surely they took the lockers out after nine-eleven. But I ve seen lockers there. I m almost positive. And even if there aren t lockers, maybe they have a bag check service, like some of the train stations in Europe. Or it could be a train number or a platform number or a dozen other things. I had to admit he was right. For that matter, I had to admit my whole theory sounded more thin now that I d actually put it into words. But at the moment it was the only theory I had, and I intended to stick to it like glue. At the very least, I was going to scour Grand Central. We got dressed in a flash. I grabbed my tote, and Stryker grabbed the laptop just in case and we raced into the hall. As soon as we reached the elevator, the doors conveniently opened. I automatically examined each face, looking for Lynx. The second the elevator doors slid open on the first floor, Stryker grabbed my elbow, tugging me to the side and letting the others emerge first. Then he stepped off, glancing around before getting off, his body shielding me from harm. For just a moment, I had an inkling of how celebrities and uber-politicians must feel. The kind with stalkers and bodyguards. There d been a brief period in my life when I d fantasized about being Britney Spears. I can t sing, so that option really wasn t open to me (some, I suppose would argue that Britney can t sing either). At the moment, I was absurdly grateful for my lack of talent. If this was how celebrities lived, I wanted no part of it. The elevators at the Plaza open into the reception area, the elevator banks standing perpendicular to the reception desk across the room. We stepped off, and I turned left. He was there. Right there. Standing at the counter and talking to the clerk. I couldn t see his face, but I knew that voice. The voice that had threatened me outside Todd s building. The voice that at this very moment was asking the desk clerk what room I was registered in. Melanie Lynn Prescott, he was saying. She s expecting me. I froze. I m sorry, sir. I ve checked. She s not registered. What about Matthew Stryker? Stryker s hand tightened around my upper arm, and he tugged me sideways, effectively pulling me out of Lynx s view. We ducked around, coming out on the far side by the Palm Court and a jewelry store with diamonds in the window blinking like a beacon to the rich and famous. Right about then, Lynx stepped into view, looking royally pissed off. Stryker must have realized what I saw, because he leaned over, closing the gap and blocking my view. We re newlyweds, he said. We can t keep our hands off each other. Kiss me. I didn t hesitate. It wasn t the best disguise, but at the moment, we had no place else to go. Maybe I trusted Stryker to protect me. Maybe I just figured that if I was going to die, I might as well die happy. I didn t know and I didn t analyze. All I did was lean forward and let him capture my mouth in his kiss. I d like to report that the warmth of his mouth filled me with such joy that I forgot all my problems. Forgot that I was marked for death. Forgot that I was living a nightmare. Nope. He might have given me the ultimate Calgon moment upstairs in the shower, seducing my problems out of my head for a few heavenly moments, but down here, with danger lurking, I was hardly even conscious of the fact that our lips were touching. I m sure it was a lovely kiss, but I barely noticed. It took every ounce of strength in my body not to break free from Stryker s strong hands and run like hell in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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