Page 17 of Love vs The Ooze Monster!
Boyd leaned closer to her, hoping she couldn’t tell how tense he was. Emotional betting was for suckers, but he was risking everything on blind faith and a longshot. “We both do.”
Silence.
Encouraged, Boyd went all in. “Because what’s between us isn’t going to just go away. You said yourself: We’re good together. You said I must see it, too… And Ido.”
“You do?”
“Youknowthat I do. I have never wanted anyone or anything as much as I want you. I promise you, one day very soon, I am going to fu…” he quickly switched verbs, “heckyour pretty little body on every desk, chair, sofa, wall, and bed that stands still long enough. We both know it’s inevitable, Mabe.”
Mabel didn’t smack him for that ungentlemanly statement. She didn’t laugh at the idea of them being together. She didn’t say theyweren’tinevitable. Instead, hazel eyes met his, looking mesmerized.
Boyd swore he could feel the charge of her body, like the electric sparks from overhead trolley wires. Her breathing picked up. He could see the pulse in her neck increase speed. Under her hideous dress, her breasts rose and fell like she was suddenly short of oxygen.
“I think about you all the time.” He confessed quietly. “You’reallI think about.”
Last night, for instance, lying in bed and obsessing over Mabel, it had occurred to him that any girl raised by Llewellyn Irving had more street smarts than an average jane from the prettified center of town. Hell, probably more than any moll or tomato out by the docks.Thatwas why Mabel did so well at the warehouse. Why she’d never even turned a hair at all the illegal goings-on. Why violence never bothered her a whit. Why she fit so perfectly in Boyd’s life, like she was always meant to be there.
Because, beneath the cool accent and frosty glower, Mabel Harrison ran hot. Just like him.
She swallowed. “You shouldn’t say things like that to a respectable lady.”
“I’m not… I’m saying them to a respectable gangster.”
Her perfect bow-shaped lips parted in surprised pleasure and it was all he could do not to kiss her senseless. The woman might dress like a librarian, but she had the soul of a crook. He had no idea how he’d missed it before.
Boyd’s smile grew. “Oh, Miss Harrison, I see all of you, now.” And she wasglorious.
Mabel tilted her head to meet his gaze, not moving backwards a single step. “I’m no gangster.”
He didn’t believe that for a second. “So what are you, then?”
One dark eyebrow arched. “I’m the Crime Lord of Nevermore County, of course.” She gave a haughty little sniff. “It’s just no one realizes it, yet.” Turning on her practical heel, she went marching into O'Shaughnessy’s Speakeasy.
Boyd squeezed his eyes shut in relief. The game wasn’t over, but his huge gamble had paid off. Mabel wanted him back! If he played this right, he could have her for good. For the first time, he really believed it was possible.
He’dmakeit possible.
Boyd had clawed his way up from poverty and survived a war, because he was damn talented at willing his dreams into reality. And he’d never had a dream as big as Mabel Harrison. That beguiling, complicated woman wasn’t goinganywhere.
Hands in his pockets, he strolled after her, feeling better than he ever had. Somehow, he could convince her to…
Boyd’s confident thoughts skidded to a halt, as he took in the interior of the bar.
During the Great War, he’d seen some action in France that he’d just as soon forget. Terrible chemicals had been launched at the men in the trenches. Soldiers coughing and choking on mysterious gases. Fumes that burned skin and lungs and eyes. Clouds of reeking death foggingeverything. He’d returned home with a morbid, fearful respect for what manmade compounds could wrought.
Boyd never underestimated the horrors of modern science. And still the condition of O'Shaughnessy’s shocked him. Something really hadmeltedthe place.
Thick orange ooze dripped down the walls, like acid. It had eaten through the wood paneling in spots, leaving bubbling pits of gelatinous glop. The floor had articles of ruined clothing left behind. Half-disintegrated shoes and evening bags, covered in the devouring sludge, were scattered like popcorn at a ball field. There were bullet holes sprayed around, as if someone had been randomly firing at the threat. Tables lay on their side. Broken chair parts and shattered glasses were everywhere.
And blood. Lots and lots of blood.
Boyd’s hand snaked out to grab Mabel’s arm, not wanting her to go any farther into the chaotic room. “Stay here.” He warned, his eyes scanning the dismal space. Nothing was moving, but he got the uneasy feeling that could change in a second.
Mabel adjusted her glasses, looking a little pale. “Well, this mess was clearly not caused by ordinary drunkards. Or a vampire. Or the subnaturals.” She swallowed. “I’m not surewhatcaused this.”
“Some kind of toxin that went and…” Well, he couldn’t actually describe exactly what it had done, but it had been god-awful.
Mabel inhaled deeply. “Do you smell that?”
