Читать книгу Silent Night Stakeout - Kerry Connor - Страница 8

Jeremy Decker sat in the driver’s seat of the parked car, hands clenched on the steering wheel, and tried to fight the fear gripping his body.

The feeling was nothing new. It seemed as if he’d spent the past year being afraid, ever since the night the police had arrested him. He still remembered the shock and terror of those moments when they’d slapped the cuffs on and dragged him away. The first days after the arrest had been nerve-racking because he hadn’t known what would happen next. Then there’d been all the long months in jail when he’d been scared to sleep, scared to turn his back on anyone, scared that he’d never see the outside again.

But never in his life had he been as scared as he was right now.

Outside, the temperature was almost zero. A thick layer of snow was on the ground, the wind blowing gusts of it across the deserted street. He knew the cold had to be seeping into the vehicle more and more every moment he sat there. White puffs of air appeared in front of his face with every breath he took. He barely felt it, unable to feel anything but the fear holding him in place.

He didn’t make a move to restart the engine and turn on the heat. It would only delay what he needed to do. He needed to push the door open. He needed to get out of the car and walk into the office building where his lawyer was waiting for him. He needed to get help.

He needed to tell.

Just the thought of it made him swallow hard, his lungs tightening painfully in his chest. The idea was terrifying, no matter how much he knew he had to do it. Ms. Garrett would know what to do. She’d fought hard for him, done everything she could for him, gotten him out of jail.

Now, though, he couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t fought so hard, had left him there, where it suddenly seemed so much safer.

Lost in his thoughts, he barely had time to react to the sound of the back door being wrenched open before someone slid into the seat behind him.

He jerked his head up to meet the intruder’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He felt no surprise at what he saw. There was only the fear, rising another notch to outright horror.

“Does she know? Did you tell her?”

He somehow managed to make his throat move, to force out the sound. “No.”

“But you were going to, weren’t you?”

There was no point in lying. He was sure the answer was written all across his face. He couldn’t keep it from his eyes as they stared back at those in the mirror.

Staring at those eyes, he never saw the knife. He only felt it, the pain sharp and swift and agonizing against his neck. His mouth fell open in shock, in terror. He couldn’t move, couldn’t find the power to utter a single word.

He could only stare into those eyes as they stared back, grim and determined.

Before he realized it, he felt it, the cold, in a way he hadn’t before. It poured into his body, insistent and unrelenting, filling him down to the bone. Until he could feel nothing else.

Cold. So cold.

And then he felt nothing at all.