Home > Play Dead(42)

Play Dead(42)
Author: Harlan Coben

“I was operating a toy-manufacturing company.”

“Really? What kind of toys?”

“Oh, standard stuff. I sold out.”

“Who bought it?”

“You wouldn’t know them.”

“Try me.”

Stan realized that he was being cornered. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it. “Just a friend.”

“I see. How’s your finger, Stan?”

“Better, thanks.”

“Freak break, huh?”

Stan shrugged. “Not that unusual.”

“Having a car door slam on just your middle finger, missing all the others completely? That’s hardly a normal injury.”

For a moment they both just stopped and watched each other. Then Stan broke the silence. “What’s going on, Laura? Why all the questions?”

Laura took a deep breath. “I had a talk with T.C.—”

“I told you he doesn’t like me.”

“He told me what happened between you and David.”

Her words hit Stan like a splash of cold water. “T.C. is exaggerating. You can’t believe what he says.”

She lifted the file from her desk. “And how about your arrest record? Did he make that up, too?”

Stan swallowed. It was all unraveling. He was so damn close and now the bitch was stabbing him in the back. “They were trumped-up charges. I haven’t been a saint when it comes to women. I admit that. But I never stole from them and I never meant to hurt any of them. It’s just that some women can’t let go. You know how spiteful an ex-lover can be.”

Laura stood and walked from around her desk. “Maybe that’s so, Stan, but I don’t want to take that chance. You’ve tried to take advantage of me and my family. And I’ve decided not to give you any of David’s money. I don’t think he’d want me to.”

Stan’s hands clenched into fists. He fought to maintain control, to keep his temper in check. “Fine, Laura. Like I said before, I don’t deserve it anyway.”

“One other thing.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to leave me and my family alone.”

Stan was fighting off panic now. “You can’t mean that. If I’ve done something in the past, that’s one thing. As you yourself said, the past is the past. I am trying my best to make amends. Don’t take away the only family I have.”

“I do mean it.” Her hand reached into her top drawer and pulled out a photograph of Stan kissing her sister. “And I especially want you to leave Gloria alone.”

Stan glared down at the photograph. Anger finally nudged its way into his voice. “How did you get that?”

“It’s not important.”

“How did you get that?” he repeated.

Laura put the picture back in her drawer. “Why not worry about other things, Stan? Like paying off the gentleman who broke your finger.”

Stan’s face turned red. He tried to think of something to say that might salvage this situation. But it was pointless. Laura was just another in a long line of women who wanted to possess him. To own him. This was simply her way of taking control. Well, Stan, my man, was not about to let her get away with it. It was time to turn the tide. To teach her a lesson. “Okay, Laura, you win. I’m very sorry about everything. Please believe me.”

“Whatever.” She spun toward the window. “Now please leave.”

He stood and made his way to the door. “Laura?”

Laura turned to face him. Her eyes widened when she saw his fist heading toward her face. She ducked. His knuckles skimmed the side of her temple. She fell to her knees. Dizziness and pain seared through her skull.

Stan stood over her. His fingers reached down and closed around her blouse. Laura pulled away, and the thin material ripped.

“Oh, my God,” he began. His eyes grew large with lust as he gazed upon her. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re body is fantastic!”

Laura tried to roll away from him, but Stan followed. “Relax, Laura,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve been dying to do this to you since the first day we met. And you’ve been dying for it, too. David wasn’t a real man, Laura. Not by a long shot. But you’re about to be fucked by a real man for the first time in your life.”

He looked down and unfastened his belt. It was a mistake on his part.

Laura saw the opening. She slammed her fist into his groin. Stan’s eyes bulged. Laura scrambled to her feet, but she did not get far. His hand grabbed her ankle and tugged her back to the floor.

“You bitch!”

“Let go of me!” she screamed.

He did as she asked, his expression switching instantly from lustful to that of a confused child. “But . . . but I thought you wanted me.”

She looked at him with horror in her eyes. He meant what he said. He really thought that she wanted him. “I’d rather make love to a St. Bernard.”

“You teasing little whore.”

She held the ripped parts of the blouse against her chest. “Get out of here, Stan. Get out before I have you thrown in jail.”

He smiled crazily. “You don’t mean that, Laura. You still want me, don’t you? Admit it. You’re just jealous of Gloria.”

She started to crawl away slowly. “You’re slime. Get out of here. And leave my sister alone.”

He shook his head. “Not until this is finished, Laura.”

Her eyes grew frightened. “It’s finished, Stan. Get out.”

Stan rose, his face pinched in confusion. He walked toward the door and opened it. “Finished, Laura?” he repeated with a shake of his head. He turned to leave. “Not by a long shot.”

STAN sprinted out of the building and onto the street. What the hell had happened? One minute he had a million dollars and the next it was gone.

Damn that fuckin’ T.C.

But it was not just T.C.’s fault. It was that cold bitch sister-in-law who had truly betrayed him. And the reason was obvious. Laura did not care about his past. That was just an excuse. The real reason was jealousy. She was pissed off because he had fooled around with her sister and not with her. That was why she suddenly had a bug up her shapely ass. Oh yes, she wanted him. Craved him. And worse, her hubbie had just died, so she could not blatantly come on to him. How would it look? Yes, Stan thought to himself, Laura was a bundle of frustrated cravings.

Cravings for him.

But right now Stan was in big trouble. The B Man was after him and he had no way of paying him back. The million dollars was lost . . . for now anyway. He would have to hide, have to find a new scam, have to . . .

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