Relentless Read Online Free

fittings mirrored Grant’s dilapidated appearance back at him everywhere he looked.
    A Blue Line train bulleted by on the tracks nearest him, its engine piercing the roar of the vast crowd.
    Grant looked back at the door he’d just passed through. On this side, it read ‘‘EMERGENCY EXIT.’’
    He glanced around the subway, his mind racing. About a hundred feet down the corridor, beyond a swell of pedestrians waiting for the next train, he spotted an escalator that led up to sunlight beyond.
    He set off again, forcing his way through the crowd, brushing shoulders and nearly shoving others. But once they got a look at his haggard features and bloodied clothes, most were only too happy to get out of his way. He was limping now, blood still dribbling from his leg onto the floor’s brick-colored tiles.
    He felt light-headed. Probably from the blood loss , some part of his mind registered the sensation.
    Grant had just placed one foot on the bottom step when he heard another gunshot, followed by hundreds of screams. Konrad was descending the stairs directly above him, and fast.
    Grant hobbled in the opposite direction, trying to run, but the other man jumped from near the bottom of the steps, tackling him from behind. The gun went off again as they grappled for it on the floor. A train pulled up and most of the crowd scrambled into it, many of them still screaming.
    Grant threw a punch and was surprised to see it connect.
    But Konrad stood up, unfazed, and hoisted Grant to his feet as well. Grant’s senses were muddled, feeling more of the pain in his leg now. His newfound reflexes seemed to have slowed when the exhaustion had kicked in. His chest heaved and he couldn’t catch his breath. He didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late to stop it— the other man had shoved him up against the nearest wall and pinned a bulky arm across his chest.
    ‘‘I still want my kneecap,’’ he growled, his hot breath inches from Grant’s face.

3
    ‘‘You’re not going to kill me,’’ Grant announced, surprised at himself.
    Konrad punched him in the face. Grant’s head thumped against the tiled wall behind him, and he winced at the pain from his nose and mouth.
    ‘‘You could have shot me in the apartment,’’ he continued, panting, ‘‘but you snuck up behind me with a knife . On the stairs, you shot me in the leg , not the chest,’’ Grant concluded. ‘‘You want something.’’
    Konrad smiled the ugliest smile Grant had ever seen. He had perfect teeth, but there was a gruesome malevolence in the expression. ‘‘Not bad. But if killing you is the only way of getting what I’m here for . . . I’ve made my peace with it.’’ His hollow eyes slowly moved down Grant’s right arm and landed on his hand, which he looked at hungrily. Grant followed his gaze down to the same spot.
    And gasped.
    A large gold ring, wider on top than underneath, like the shape of a class ring, rested there on his middle finger. The gold was so smooth it might have been liquid. Not a single scratch could be seen. Inset in the widest part of the band was a dark red gemstone. Odd markings were cut as tiny holes into the sides of the band. Grant had never seen the ring before, but he could tell from the sensation that it had been on his finger for a while.
    At least since the bus , he guessed.
    ‘‘You can have it,’’ Grant said, holding out his hand. The chase had worn him out, strength all but gone, breath coming in shooting waves, along with the pounding of his pulse that he could feel in the pain from his leg. His equilibrium was damaged by the blow to the head, and if Konrad hadn’t been pinning him against the wall, he might have collapsed.
    ‘‘Hold it!’’ a man screamed from twenty feet down the line, in Grant’s line of sight and directly behind Konrad. He looked like some kind of Metro security . . .
    Without hesitating or even looking, Konrad fired a shot over his shoulder and the security guard went