"Hell will freeze over first!" she promised, wrenching her wrist away. She spun blindly to leave and tripped over the sofa. He tried to help her, but she slapped his hand away.
He chuckled softly. "Maybe hell will freeze over," he told her with a mocking tone.
"Never!I hope you rot. I hope you die. I hope your fans tear you into little pieces and feed you to the vultures--"
"I get your drift, Bryn."
He was standing before the rack of arrows, golden eyes narrowed,hands firmly on his hips--the total image of masculine power and danger--when she slammed out the front door, still cursing like crazy. In Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
the car, she burst into tears as the wheels spun, sending the gravel flying.
Chapter 7
Bryn spent the fifteen minutes it took her to drive home alternating between rage and despair.
What was she going to do now? When the damned whisperer called again, she would have to say that she had tried everything, and if the pictures were so important, Condor was the man that they had to be gotten from. It was that simple.
She should have called the police.At the very beginning. Spared herself the fear and the anguish and the aggravation and the...
Humiliation of this disastrous evening!
He had known from the beginning that she wanted something.From the very beginning. And he had played her along, picked up on her game with the same smooth expertise with which he played the drums. Letting her come to him, back off, come again, knowing all the while that he didn't intend to give her a thing.
Damn him! She had made a fool of herself, made something worse of herself with her sexual bargaining.
And she didn't even have the pictures!
She screeched the van into the driveway,then sat, shaking, at the wheel, stunned to find herself actually home already. It was a good thing she knewLake Tahoelike the back of her hand. Instinct had brought her home.
Deep breaths, Bryn, she told herself silently. And calm down. You have to go inside and speak with Barbara calmly, as if nothing in the world is going on.
She had grabbed her bag, but her wrap was still at Condor's.Small loss. She felt like burning the dress she was wearing.
Don't slam the door, Bryn! Don't. The kids are asleep. Come up with a nice wide smile for Barbara; tell her you had a few drinks and a nice evening.
It wasn't until she was actually at the door that a frown began to spread its way across her brow.
The porch light wasn't on. Barbara was a fanatic about the porch light--much more so than Bryn.
Anytime she went out, Barbara put the light on. Muggers, Barb was convinced, would be far more prone to attack in the darkness than if a glaring light was burning.
Bryn forgot about Lee as she fumbled to fit her key in the lock. The door swung inward, and she paused, puzzled.
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She could hear the television set. The parlor light was on, as was the kitchen light. Everything appeared to be normal. She could even see Barb's feet propped up at the end of the couch.
"Barb?" Bryn called softly.
There was no reply. Tentatively Bryn stepped into the house and tiptoed over to the sofa. Barbara was lying there, apparently comfortable as she stretched out. But she appeared to be a little pale, and she had to be sleeping soundly not to have heard Bryn yet.
"Barb?" Bryn shook her friend's shoulder. Barbara groaned and winced, but her eyes didn't open.
Anxiously, Bryn shook her friend with more force. "Barb!"
Barbara groaned again; her eyelids began to flutter, and then they opened. She stared up at Bryn blankly.
"Barb,it's Bryn. What's the matter? Are you all right?"
Recognition registered in Barbara's eyes. She blinked again, as if bewildered.
"Bryn..." She started to move,then groaned, clutching her head.
"Barbara! What's wrong?" Bryn demanded again, truly anxious now.
"I...I don't know..." Barbara murmured. "I must have fallen asleep, but oh, God!My head. I feel like I've been hit by a ton of bricks. I...remember sitting here. I was watching that new miniseries. And I...I don't remember anything after!" "Can you sit up, Barb?" "Yes...I think so."
Bryn moved quickly to sit beside Barbara. She grasped Barbara's hands, pulling them from her head, and gingerly worked over her friend's scalp. Rivers of ice seemed to congeal her blood as she found a knot the size of a walnut near Barbara's nape.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, Barb!It feels like you have been hit with a ton of bricks. I'm going to get an ice pack.
Sit tight."
Bryn sped into the kitchen, dropped ice all over the floor in her desperate effort to hurry,then rushed back to Barbara.
"Lie back down on your side, Barb, and let me get the ice on this. Think Barb. Something must have happened."
Barbara sank gratefully back to the couch.' 'I swear to you, honey, I haven't lost my mind--just bruised it. I was sitting here watching television. I did not get up and trip and forget all about it or anything. I--''