Tag, You're It! Read Online Free Page B
Author: Penny McCall
Unfortunately, the new light didn't provide any additional illumination. All it did was create shadows, and every one of the shadows was a complication that was going to take time to work through.
He wasn't in this position by accident. Okay, being tied up in Alex's bed wasn't exactly intentional, but he'd been dropped on her purposely, to gain her sympathy. That's what the guys in the plane had told him, right before they'd shot at him to convince him jumping was actually the smart option.
He figured the second round of shooting was for Alex's sake, but if that was the case she was being severely underestimated. She'd saved him, but she didn't trust him, and no amount of gunfire was going to change that. Not that he was jumping on the trust bandwagon, either; her being evasive about her past wasn't exactly giving him the warm fuzzies.
So far he'd been able to figure out she was from Boston, but that only sparked all kinds of new questions. Harder questions, ones only she could answer, and she was clearly not in a talkative mood. Ever.
He looked at Alex and found the same kind of speculain her gaze that must be on his face. And the same wariness.
"They who?" she said.
He rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it. "You were shot at and you still want to know what's going on? Jesus, what'll it take to get through to you?"
"It's not like they're coming back any time soon. They can't land a plane here. Maybe a helicopter, but they won't risk that, seeing as it's almost nightfall. And they can't come by land, not without someone to guide them. I'm not exactly listed on the maps."
"So we have some breathing room. Not that you need breathing room. You'll be safe once I'm gone." He fed her the lie with an absolutely straight face. Of course she didn't buy it.
"First," she said, "even if you had suitable clothing and the first clue how to get to safety, you're not in any shape to leave. Second, they tried to kill me once, just because I was in the way. I don't think they're going to be too happy that I rescued you. In fact, I imagine they consider me a problem, and they appear to be the kind of people who find permanent solutions to their problems."
Tag shut his eyes and lay back, really tired this time, exhausted by the day's events and the ramifications of the fix he'd gotten himself into.
The mattress jiggled as she stood. Thank God she'd finally taken the hint because he couldn't think anymore, and she wasn't the kind of woman he should be talking to without the benefit of forethought. And then he felt her slip the ropes around his wrists and realized forethought had deserted him some time ago. She'd been sitting within reach for the last ten minutes. Sure the rifle was right there, but even with a killer headache and a sore… everything, he could have gotten to her before she got to it. Before she got it pointed at him, at any rate.
"You're cutting off the circulation," Tag said as she tightened the ropes. "Do you really have to do that?"
"Yes." She tied the knot off and tucked the ends of the rope between his wrists for good measure. "Unless you can convince me there's no reason for it."
He heaved a sigh. "I feel like I've landed in a Stephen King novel. There's not a typewriter around here, is there?"
She gave a slight laugh. "Fiction isn't going to get you out of those ropes, but you might try the truth."
"I'm not a threat to you," Tag said. "They were shooting at me, remember?"
"That doesn't prove anything. Maybe they were FBI agents and you're an escaped criminal."
"They're not FBI. They're not law enforcement of any kind."
"If they're not good guys, they're bad guys, and you knew that when you got mixed up with them."
"They didn't exactly give me a choice."
She thought about that for a minute, those wintry eyes steady on his face and searching. Then she shook her head. "You're not the kind of man who gets caught up in circumbeyond his control."
"You sure about that, or is it just that you're the kind of
He wasn't in this position by accident. Okay, being tied up in Alex's bed wasn't exactly intentional, but he'd been dropped on her purposely, to gain her sympathy. That's what the guys in the plane had told him, right before they'd shot at him to convince him jumping was actually the smart option.
He figured the second round of shooting was for Alex's sake, but if that was the case she was being severely underestimated. She'd saved him, but she didn't trust him, and no amount of gunfire was going to change that. Not that he was jumping on the trust bandwagon, either; her being evasive about her past wasn't exactly giving him the warm fuzzies.
So far he'd been able to figure out she was from Boston, but that only sparked all kinds of new questions. Harder questions, ones only she could answer, and she was clearly not in a talkative mood. Ever.
He looked at Alex and found the same kind of speculain her gaze that must be on his face. And the same wariness.
"They who?" she said.
He rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it. "You were shot at and you still want to know what's going on? Jesus, what'll it take to get through to you?"
"It's not like they're coming back any time soon. They can't land a plane here. Maybe a helicopter, but they won't risk that, seeing as it's almost nightfall. And they can't come by land, not without someone to guide them. I'm not exactly listed on the maps."
"So we have some breathing room. Not that you need breathing room. You'll be safe once I'm gone." He fed her the lie with an absolutely straight face. Of course she didn't buy it.
"First," she said, "even if you had suitable clothing and the first clue how to get to safety, you're not in any shape to leave. Second, they tried to kill me once, just because I was in the way. I don't think they're going to be too happy that I rescued you. In fact, I imagine they consider me a problem, and they appear to be the kind of people who find permanent solutions to their problems."
Tag shut his eyes and lay back, really tired this time, exhausted by the day's events and the ramifications of the fix he'd gotten himself into.
The mattress jiggled as she stood. Thank God she'd finally taken the hint because he couldn't think anymore, and she wasn't the kind of woman he should be talking to without the benefit of forethought. And then he felt her slip the ropes around his wrists and realized forethought had deserted him some time ago. She'd been sitting within reach for the last ten minutes. Sure the rifle was right there, but even with a killer headache and a sore… everything, he could have gotten to her before she got to it. Before she got it pointed at him, at any rate.
"You're cutting off the circulation," Tag said as she tightened the ropes. "Do you really have to do that?"
"Yes." She tied the knot off and tucked the ends of the rope between his wrists for good measure. "Unless you can convince me there's no reason for it."
He heaved a sigh. "I feel like I've landed in a Stephen King novel. There's not a typewriter around here, is there?"
She gave a slight laugh. "Fiction isn't going to get you out of those ropes, but you might try the truth."
"I'm not a threat to you," Tag said. "They were shooting at me, remember?"
"That doesn't prove anything. Maybe they were FBI agents and you're an escaped criminal."
"They're not FBI. They're not law enforcement of any kind."
"If they're not good guys, they're bad guys, and you knew that when you got mixed up with them."
"They didn't exactly give me a choice."
She thought about that for a minute, those wintry eyes steady on his face and searching. Then she shook her head. "You're not the kind of man who gets caught up in circumbeyond his control."
"You sure about that, or is it just that you're the kind of
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