IN ROOM 33 Read Online Free

first time, if that's what you mean." He was glad it was dark, because his face was hotter than burned rubber. He got the zipper down, and Nelly pulled off that skimpy cotton thing she wore over those hooters of hers.
    In seconds he was on top of her and buried deep.
    A second after that, a hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him out—and upright. Nelly covered her breasts and scrambled back against the headboard. A knife tip gouged under his chin and a trickle of sticky warmth ran along his neck. His sixteen-year-old cock withdrew like a threatened turtle.
    "Hey—"
    "Shut up." The knife moved, made another shallow cut. "You've got thirty seconds to get your bare asses out of here or this"—he jabbed again—"will do serious work."
    The man's head jerked in the direction of Nelly. "Much as I hate the thought of you covering up them titties of yours, sweetheart, you go first."
    Nelly moved as if someone had slammed a hot brand on her butt; she stuffed her legs into her jeans, and yanked on her tee. The next second she was out the window, then she stopped. "You let him go or I'll scream." She sounded scared, and her voice squeaked like a little girl in a schoolyard.
    Luke was impressed, until the knife made a short, shallow slit under his ear, and his own hot blood seeped under the neck of his Tee.
    "You scream, sweet thing," the man holding him said, "and your boyfriend is raw meat. Now get the hell out of here."
    Luke heard her clang down the fire escape in quick time. The man shoved him from behind. "Now you, limp dick. Get out of here and don't come back. And keep your mouth shut. You tell anyone about this, and I'll fuckin' find you. You got that?"
    "Yeah, I got it." Luke made for the window, caught a glimpse of the guy when he straddled the sill on his way out. Shit! The guy was a freakin' mountain!
    As Luke scrambled down the fire escape, he heard the man laugh. "Thanks for the beer, dickless."
    When the kids were gone, the man picked up the backpack, tucked the six-pack under his arm, and blew out the candle. When he closed the door of Room 33 behind him, he was grinning. Man, that piece had a nice set on her.
    Maybe hanging around this dump was gonna have some perks after all.

 
     
     
    Chapter 2

     
    Joy sat on the edge of her bed and stretched. She was still stretching when the phone rang. She looked at her bedside clock—not seven yet. Almost ten in New York—had to be Connie about that piece she'd just sent in for Travel World. What was it again? The Scottish Moors... no, Irish castles, that was the one. She slid into work mode and picked up the phone.
    "Joy Cole here." She managed to sound brisk before stifling a yawn. A phone call before coffee—what could be worse? She stood, headed for the kitchen.
    "It's me."
    "Mother?" Joy stopped in the middle of the room, unable to associate Lana's voice with the early morning hour.
    A silky laugh traveled down the line. "I knew my call would surprise you."
    "Surprise is for popped balloons and tax refunds—this verges on trauma. You haven't got out of bed before ten since... hell, you never got out of bed before ten."
    "Maybe I've changed. It has been a while, after all."
    Nearly six years, but who was counting? But change? Joy didn't think so. "I'm sorry about Stephen. And I was going to call today. What happened?"
    "Heart."
    "No warning?"
    "For Stephen, yes. According to his lawyer, his doctor told him months ago how serious his condition was. He didn't share that with me." Her statements were matter-of-fact, and her tone conveyed neither resentment nor despair. No change there.
    Joy had a surge of pity for Stephen. Sick, dying, he must have known sharing his pain with Lana was out of the question, sensed what Joy knew from experience: Lana didn't do death and dying—at least, not someone else's. Certainly not Joy's father's.
    She went to the window, peeked out into a blinding morning sun, and rubbed her forehead, not knowing where to go next. "I