Dirty Money Read Online Free Page B

might heave. “They probably won’t retaliate. Isn’t that right?”
    I never really got her opinion on that though. Right when I thought her face couldn’t get any more pale, her dark eyes couldn’t pop out any more, the muscles in that lovely jaw couldn’t get any tighter, she turned and marched away.
     
    *
     
    For me, emotion came in waves. The emotion dictated the wave. So fear was short-lived, maybe two minutes. Then it would go. Two minutes later, it would be back with a vengeance, like I suddenly remembered there was reason to fear. Anger lasted longer, twenty or thirty minutes. It made days when I was angry very annoying. Just when I’d calm down enough so I didn’t want to hit things until they broke into a thousand tiny fragments, something else would remind me, oh yeah, I’m fuckin’ mad.
    Reese was different. She could hold a grudge for days, months, years. I was still getting grief for taking all her Barbies’ heads off. That was when we were eight. The worst part was the stupid dolls’ heads went back on, but no, Reese didn’t remember that.
    So there we were, two days later and not a word. Ryan knew something was wrong, but the silence scared him enough not to ask. I didn’t even care anymore. I’d gone from the pure rage of how could she not tell me, to the submission of maybe she was right, to the desperation of I’ll cut my own heart out if that will make her speak to me again, and back to rage, until I was exhausted. I couldn’t even bother to be mad at her original offense anymore. Now I was just mad that she wasn’t speaking to me.
    And I was eyeing the knives in the kitchen. Maybe my heart would make her speak.
    That night the dream began. It started simple. Blood, just blood, fucking everywhere. Staining, permeating, becoming everything until it took shape. Her shape. A short skirt pulled too high. The flash of silver and then he filled my view, cutting out my heart. Moving over her like he owned her, and right then, he did.
    In the dream, I lifted the gun the way I had in that stretch of nowhere. My aim was shit though. The bullet ripped from the barrel flying wide and coming to rest above her heart. As Reese’s dying form twitched in front of me, I couldn’t decide who was worse.
    Me or Tommy.
    When I woke, an aborted scream tearing from my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks, I felt her in the dark. She was awake. There was a moment of indecision where she began to reach for me. To shelter me from whatever demon was tearing into my soul. Instead of touching me though, she turned away and hugged her pillow to hide her face from the darkness. Quietly, separately, in that double bed, we cried ourselves to sleep.
     
    *
     
    Stubborn wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed to apologize. So did Reese. Neither of us was showing signs of breaking, so I went for inane.
    “You want some coffee?” My voice was quieter than I’d wanted it to be. I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard. I waited, wondering if I should repeat my question.
    “Yeah.” She was quiet too, like our voices hadn’t been used in years. Except it had only been days. “Thanks.”
    Reese looked all sexy, the kind of sexy she only looked in the morning. Hair kind of crazy and messy, eyes the color of espresso heavy with sleep. This morning, the puffiness from crying half the night made them even more bruised than usual. Gorgeous. I just wanted to kiss those sad, angry eyes until she begged me to touch her, begged me to hold her.
    “I’m going to make toast.” Her voice sounded stronger now. “You want?”
    “Sure.” Fuck yeah, I wanted her to make me toast. Hell, she could do anything she wanted because she had said a whole nine words to me. Nine. I could save the world with nine words.
    Reese set a plate of toast on the table. Damn, it was even buttered.
    “Thanks.” I reached for a piece.
    “We should call the airport today.” Reese took a piece of toast too. “See if we can set up a plane to carry our