Читать книгу Swerve - Michelle McGriff - Страница 9

Reaching the back of the bar, heading toward her bike, a tall, agile man swung on her as soon as she cleared the corner. Her reflexes were catlike and she pulled back, his blow missing by mere inches. Sensing his every move, and he hers, made it feel like she was fighting her shadow…or a sensei. He mimicked her technique, blow for blow, as if having studied her moves. Had they fought before, maybe in competition? Did she know him? He wore black, resembling the attire of a ninja, and in the night, all she could see were his eyes, which glowed against the light that hung off the roof of the tavern.

Attempting to look in his eyes, Romia kicked and punched quickly, hoping not to lose eye contact with the stranger for more than a millisecond. He blocked each blow with precision.

Just then, a woman screamed. “Shashoni!” Romia called out, thinking it was Keliegh’s date being attacked somewhere in the distance. The woman screamed again. “She killed him!”

The attacker struck. Distracted by the woman’s scream, Romia caught a blow that drew blood from her lip. When she stumbled back from the hard blow, the attacker took advantage of the time to scurry away. Romia’s first instincts were to go after him, but the woman’s bellows drew her attention in that direction. She felt her mouth. The blood had started flowing from the small break in the taut skin of her full bottom lip.

Reaching the strange white woman she’d never seen before, she saw the body of a man lying face down. The woman stood there screaming while all the color drained from her face. “Can you shut up?” Romia demanded, looking around for Shashoni.

Romia squatted next to the body, but before she could do her job, the bar began to empty with spectators headed in her direction.

“She killed him,” the woman screeched, pointing at Romia in a tattling fashion.

The men and women began to scramble, heading for cars to avoid the questions from the cops who were sure to come. Others ran back into the bar to get Hank and Aston and Keliegh, no doubt, because within seconds they came out.

“What are you talking about?” Romia asked, realizing only now that the woman was accusing her.

“Freeze, Romee!” Hank yelled, drawing his gun on her.

“Hank, you’re kidding, right?” Romia asked, slowly attempting to rise from the body of the man, which now had blood trickling slowly out from under him.

The blood from her face was on her hands, and she could easily see how bad this all looked, yet she had not touched the dead man, not even to check a pulse.

“Stay where you are and put your hands up!” Aston Mitchell, another officer from her precinct, demanded.

“Move away, lady!” Aston yelled at the woman, who then quickly ran toward the bar. Romia wished she had gotten a better look at her, because she had a strange feeling this was to be the last she would see of the woman outside of a courtroom.

“Romee, what the hell happened?” Keliegh asked as he quickly pushed through the growing crowd.

Glancing up at him, her green eyes were aglow against the light of the full moon. Her mouth was now covered with blood from the wound that at first had seemed so minor. She bled easily from her full lips and, therefore, usually made a point of not getting hit in the mouth.

“He went that way.” Reaching under her jacket, she realized then her gun was gone. Her eyes immediately focused on the one laying next to the body. It was hers. “What the…” She picked it up.

“Drop it, Romee!” Hank yelled.

“What the hell are you doing, Hank? It’s Romee!” Keliegh jumped between the officers and Romia, who was staring at the gun: the weapon that had apparently killed the man laying face down in the dirt. It was the man from the bar who had touched her breast. This didn’t look good at all.

Keliegh was looking stunned, and a bit confused, but stood his ground. There was no way he was going to arrest her, or allow Hank or Aston to either.

“I…I didn’t…” Romia stammered, hearing sirens in the distance. Someone must have called, she thought.

“Drop the gun,” Keliegh whispered over his shoulder while standing between the drawn weapons and Romia.

“Get out of the way, Kel,” Hank ordered.

“No, now come on…This is crazy! Get that woman out here to tell what she saw,” Keliegh insisted.

“I don’t know what happened, Aston. I don’t know what’s going on. It happened too fast,” Romia said to Aston, who looked determined to arrest her.

“Romia Smith, you’re under arrest. You have the right…” Aston began, while pulling out his handcuffs from the back of his trousers. He stepped forward, but Keliegh refused to allow him to get close enough to put the cuffs on.

“Get out of the way!” Aston ordered, stepping toward Keliegh as if to go through him. Aston was going to prove he had no hesitation arresting a colleague.

Suddenly, Romia dropped the gun, pushed Keliegh aside, and stepped forward, snatching Aston’s weapon from him and dismantling it with one hand before twisting his arm behind him. She had to get away before the squad car arrived.

Keliegh swung on Hank before he could fire.

Aston freed himself from Romia’s loose grip. She’d not really tried to restrain him so much as buy a moment to think. He swung on her, but Romia easily ducked back and flat-hand punched him across the face, stunning him.

Everyone knew of her fighting skills, but also her restrictions. She could kill him within seconds—Aston knew it as well as she did. She was not allowed to street fight. It was all but illegal for her, but there was no way she was going to jail tonight. “Come on, Romee,” Aston said, holding his cheek while moving lightly on his feet, as if contemplating taking on the challenge of fighting her. He charged at her only to have her hit him twice, this time with a closed fist. She held back on the power of her punch, but still drew blood from his nose. He cursed her and swung again, but she easily ducked the telegraphed punch.

Hearing the sirens closing in, she knew time was running out on this game. Aston kicked at her; he’d apparently been practicing his karate moves, but was no competition. She caught the kick, turning his foot just enough to cause pain but not break. He yelped and crumbled to the ground. Standing in a guarded stance, she began inching her way clear to break for her bike.

Keliegh had wrestled the gun from Hank and tossed it aside. They were both breathing heavily from their momentary tussle before Hank pulled a smaller weapon from the back of his pants.

“Don’t try it, Romia. I’ll shoot you,” Hank said.

Romia raised her hands. “Stop! This has to stop!”

Again Keliegh jumped between Hank and Romia, tackling Hank to the ground. Hank’s gun went off, but the shot ricocheted in the darkness, missing Romia by a mile as she leapt onto the seat of her bike. It started up without delay, almost as if sensing her need for speed. She took off without even putting on her helmet, which was still held tight to the bike by its cord.

The squad car pulled in just as she swerved around it, spitting up dust as she avoided the head-on collision. The officer behind the wheel hung a tight U-turn and pursued her. She could see the car right on her tail in her rearview mirror.

Why are they not listening to me? Why is this happening? Who was that woman? Something didn’t feel right. Something wasn’t right. But Romia wasn’t going to stop and ask questions. Pushing the bike to top speed, causing the front wheel to rise a couple of feet off the ground before gripping the road, she grew the distance between them. She had to get out of there, but where would she go?

Still hearing the sirens close behind her, she turned the bike into the first alleyway she approached. She was in an area known as the Palemos; it was a ghetto and basically abandoned by the city dollars. There were many dark and deserted hiding places, and she planned to take advantage of one of them. They would be calling for backup, if they hadn’t already, so she knew she needed to get off the main streets to get around easier, faster, and without much detection. They would never find her in this neighborhood—everyone on a beat knew that if a suspect ducked into the Palemos you could forget finding him unless you had a good snitch. Romia was certain the cops would never find her once she got on foot.

Screeching the bike to a halt, she quickly dismounted, leaving the helmet hooked on the bungee. The golden phoenix glowed against the moonlight. Her heart was tearing apart as she freed herself of the custom jacket that everyone recognized and knew she wore—and that she loved—tossing it aside. Looking back as she started to run off, the regret was too much; dashing back, she ripped the helmet from the bungee and slammed it on her head before looking around and then upward for a fire escape. Finding one, and without pulling the ladder down, she jumped high, gripping the bar tightly while pulling herself up to the first rung and flipping her legs over her head and through the bars. Acrobatically, she then pulled herself toward her feet, flipping over the railing and climbing five stories until she found a broken window with an opening big enough to climb through. She ducked inside the empty office building.