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Guilty Pleasures :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 155 из 205“Besides, you aren't on my side, remember.”
“I'm the closest thing you've got to an ally.”
“God help me, then.” I hung up on him, hard. Phillip had tried to defend me last night. Now he was paying for it. I yelled, “Dammit!”
A man pumping gas stared at me.
“What are you looking at?” I nearly yelled that, too. He dropped his eyes and concentrated very hard on filling his tank with gas.
I got behind the wheel of my car and sat there for a few minutes. I was so angry, I was shaking. I could feel the tension in my teeth. Dammit. Dammit! I was too angry to drive. It wouldn't help Phillip if I got in a car accident on the way.
I tried breathing deep gulps of air. It didn't help. I turned the key in the ignition. “No speeding, can't afford to get stopped by the cops. Easy does it, Anita, easy does it.” I talk to myself every once in a while. Give myself very good advice. Sometimes I even take it.
I put the car in gear and drove out onto the road-carefully. Anger rode up my back and into my shoulders and neck. I gripped the steering wheel too hard and found that my hands weren't quite healed. Sharp little jabs of pain, but not enough. There wasn't enough pain in the whole world to get rid of the anger.
Phillip was being hurt because of me. Just like Catherine and Ronnie. No more. No freaking more. I was going to get Phillip, save him any way I could; then I was turning the whole blasted thing over to the police. Without proof, yeah, without anything to back it up. I was bailing out before more people got hurt.
The anger was almost enough to hide the fear behind it. If Nikolaos was tormenting Phillip for last night, she might not be too happy with me either. I was going back down those stairs into the master's lair, at night. Didn't seem real bright when you put it that way.
The anger was fading in a wash of cold, skin-shivering fear. “No!” I would not go in there afraid. I held onto my anger with everything I had. This was the closest I'd come to hate in a long time. Hatred; now there's an emotion that'll spread warmth through your body.
Most hatred is based on fear, one way or another. Yeah. I wrapped myself in anger, with a dash of hate, and at the bottom of it all was an icy center of pure terror.
37
The Circus of the Damned is housed in an old warehouse. Its name is emblazoned across the roof in colored lights. Giant clown figurines dance around the words in frozen pantomime. If you look very closely at the clowns, you notice they have fangs. But only if you look very closely.
“I'm the closest thing you've got to an ally.”
“God help me, then.” I hung up on him, hard. Phillip had tried to defend me last night. Now he was paying for it. I yelled, “Dammit!”
A man pumping gas stared at me.
“What are you looking at?” I nearly yelled that, too. He dropped his eyes and concentrated very hard on filling his tank with gas.
I got behind the wheel of my car and sat there for a few minutes. I was so angry, I was shaking. I could feel the tension in my teeth. Dammit. Dammit! I was too angry to drive. It wouldn't help Phillip if I got in a car accident on the way.
I tried breathing deep gulps of air. It didn't help. I turned the key in the ignition. “No speeding, can't afford to get stopped by the cops. Easy does it, Anita, easy does it.” I talk to myself every once in a while. Give myself very good advice. Sometimes I even take it.
I put the car in gear and drove out onto the road-carefully. Anger rode up my back and into my shoulders and neck. I gripped the steering wheel too hard and found that my hands weren't quite healed. Sharp little jabs of pain, but not enough. There wasn't enough pain in the whole world to get rid of the anger.
Phillip was being hurt because of me. Just like Catherine and Ronnie. No more. No freaking more. I was going to get Phillip, save him any way I could; then I was turning the whole blasted thing over to the police. Without proof, yeah, without anything to back it up. I was bailing out before more people got hurt.
The anger was almost enough to hide the fear behind it. If Nikolaos was tormenting Phillip for last night, she might not be too happy with me either. I was going back down those stairs into the master's lair, at night. Didn't seem real bright when you put it that way.
The anger was fading in a wash of cold, skin-shivering fear. “No!” I would not go in there afraid. I held onto my anger with everything I had. This was the closest I'd come to hate in a long time. Hatred; now there's an emotion that'll spread warmth through your body.
Most hatred is based on fear, one way or another. Yeah. I wrapped myself in anger, with a dash of hate, and at the bottom of it all was an icy center of pure terror.
37
The Circus of the Damned is housed in an old warehouse. Its name is emblazoned across the roof in colored lights. Giant clown figurines dance around the words in frozen pantomime. If you look very closely at the clowns, you notice they have fangs. But only if you look very closely.