Page 92 of Hard Hitter
“There’s nobody here,” she said, her voice so flat that he didn’t bother checking the truth of it.
Vince kicked the door shut with the heel of his shoe. “It’s upstairs,” he said, pointing up the stairway.
Ari felt nauseated by the idea of walking up that staircase with him again. The last time she’d done that, she’d ended up with a broken bone. “Where?”
“The bedroom. Go on.”
She turned quickly away, if only to hide her stricken face.Ten minutes, she reminded herself. And then, finally having a moment of self-preservation, she snatched her purse off the bottom step and brought it upstairs with her. The panic button still clung on its discreet metal loop to the strap. Walking up the stairs in front of Vince, a tingle of fear clung to her spine. How many hours had she spent alone in this house with him? Thousands. But this didn’t feel the least bit familiar. Not at all.
At the top of the stairs she went into the bedroom and paused in front of the dresser, waiting to see what he’d do.
“We’re moving the bed,” he grunted. “It’s underneath.”
Lovely. I’ve been sleeping above a weapon. Ari dropped her purse, knelt down and pulled her suitcase out of the way. Not much light shone underneath the hanging quilt, but there didn’t seem to be anything at all under there.
What if it wasn’t here? Would Vince flip out?
“Come on,” Vince prompted. “We have to move this so I can get under the floorboards.”
Jesus. During the last awful months with him, she’d worried about his bad attitude toward her job. When she really might have worried that he wasprying up her floorboardsto hide illegal activity. She put her hands underneath the crosspiece on the side closest to the window and waited for him to do the same on the opposite side.
“Ready? Toward me,” he said. “Go.”
Ari shoved the heavy bed toward him. “Don’t lift with your back,” she cautioned.
He raised an eyebrow at her. But it was just instinct that had made her say it—a yoga instructor’s reflex to watch out for body strains. It wasn’t affection, it was self-preservation. If he injured himself she wouldn’t be rid of him as quickly.
As soon as they’d shoved the bed aside, Vince pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket and wedged it under the molding along the wall. With a yank, he pried it up.
Ari stopped herself from protesting the destruction. She could fix it all later. If he’d only leave. She studied his profile as he frowned down at his work, prying the end of the floorboard up next. She looked at his haggard face and tried to feel something. There had once been a smiling Vince who called her “my girl” and liked to dance. That guy was long gone, though. And this one looked like a stranger to her.
Three boards were levered up before he reached into the darkness below and pulled out a ziplock bag with something heavy inside.
She turned her head away, as if it wouldn’t be true if she didn’t see it properly.
He gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Stay in your Zen bubble, girl. You think you’re better than me.”
I’m not the one tucking a gun into my jacket. She was too smart to say that out loud, though. “I was loyal to you,” she said instead. “Whatever attitude you think I have is in your head.”
“ARI!” came a shout from outside. Goose bumps broke out across her neck because it was Patrick’s voice. “Man on!” he yelled.
Still kneeling on the floor, Vince froze.
That’s when she heard it—cautious, nearly silent footsteps on the stairs.
Terrified, Ari moved on pure instinct, slipping into the adjacent bathroom, shutting the door and sliding the hardware store latch lock into place.
“Fuck,” she heard Vince curse.
The sound she heard next was the cock of a gun—click-click—just like in the movies. “You got something there for me?” a stranger’s voice asked on the other side of the door.
Ari trembled. Sure, she was alone in the bathroom. But now she wastrappedin here.
Without her panic button, of course.
Think, Ari. She edged toward the narrow little window over the toilet. It hadn’t been opened in months, since the summer. Quietly, she lowered the toilet seat and then stepped up onto it, one foot at a time.
“Just take it out, nice and slow,” the stranger’s voice said.
