Page 10 of Silent Comrade
“Improvise. Remove Ms. McNeill from thesituation if necessary.”
“With respect, that move would go over likea ton of pissed-off bricks. Also, our team doesn’t exist, andkidnapping is illegal.”
“You’re not there to be popular. This wholeop is gray.” Hunt’s next words iced Red’s blood. “You have oneobjective: keep that woman alive.”
Chapter Six
That rat.
That unfashionable bag of crap.
Arrgh. Britt flexed her fingers whileshe walked, imagining her hands around that jerk’s thick neck. Overan hour she had wasted, sitting at the dumb coffee shop, notordering coffee. A dull headache throbbed behind her eyes. Figured.Now that she headed back to her apartment, she needed caffeine.
Stupid. How dumb could she be?
Britt had even taken the time to select anoutfit for the not-date. Something that conveyed less edgy poorstudent, more feminine and pulled-together adult. The brown loafersand brown tights paired well with a deep-blue shirtdress, belted atthe waist. Topped by an unbuttoned brown cardigan, Britt figuredshe looked as close to “professional” as a gal like her ever could.All dressed up…
Well, with the effort she’d put into herattire and the lousy results, it looked like a sign from God:concentrate on graduating and avoid any dumb distractions. Shedidn’t have time for a punctual guy in her life, much less a tardyson of a gun.
Checking her watch as she climbed the stairsto the apartment, she grimaced. Not enough time to do everything:study, lunch, nap, and class. Her stomach rumbled. Lunch was thepriority. Another twinge flitted across her forehead. Okay, maybefix the caffeine deficiency first, then lunch. She nodded at atall, muscled man in a black button-down shirt and jeans whistlingas he passed her on the stairs. She glanced back. The guy strolledaway, an upbeat tune fading away into the sounds of late-morningtraffic.
Damn her for falling for Al’s,aw shucksI’m new in town, schtick. To think, she had helped him. Enough.Not like coffee with Al would have led to anything else.
As she turned the key and opened the door, ahint of pine and aftershave wafted past her. What the actual heck?Now she hallucinated his scent.
Britt was making a sandwich while stillmuttering to herself when her roommate popped out of her bedroom,wearing leggings and a semifitted geometric-patterned blouse.
“Hi, honey! Ooh, love the outfit.” Tachiflipped mahogany waves back over her shoulders and flashed herperfect smile. Her tall, shapely presence commanded attention, evenwhen she wasn’t modeling.
Tucking her chin, Britt glanced down at hernonexistent chest. Oh, hell. How could she get mad at the nicestroommate in the universe? Britt indulged in one second ofself-pity, then pulled herself out of it. “You’re back! How werethe parentals?”
“Good. The usual. Good ol’ Kimiko and Juanwith their usual twenty questions about my love life … which isnonexistent, bee-tee dubs. Am I getting three squares per day? Whatabout my career? When am I going to become successful? What’s nextif modeling doesn’t work out? They are lovely people, butexhausting.”
“Oh my gosh!”
“I’m used to it.” Her friend’s dark eyesglowed in her flawless face. “But speaking of career, guess what? Ijust got booked forAtlanta Magazine!”
“That’s awesome!” Britt stood on tiptoes togive her roomie a hug. “Was it a ‘My Style’ article?”
“I wish.” Tachi stepped back. “Tibi has anew line of handbags. Someone has to show them off, and they pickedme for the spread. The bags are gorge! I might get to keepone!”
“Wow! You’re going to blow everyone awaywith fierce pictures. Just remember us little people when you makeit big, okay?”
“For you, I’ll make an exception and won’tblock your phone number.” She stretched her back gracefully. Toobad her friend was super nice. Made it hard to hate her for beingso effortlessly beautiful.
That smile fell. Dark lashes framed hernarrowed eyes as she crossed her arms. “Spill it, Britt. Now.”
Crap. “What? Nothing. Just a little moody.”Britt sidled over to the countertop to complete the sandwich.
Tachi’s elegant hand caught the refrigeratordoor and eased it closed. “I know moody. This is more thanmoody.”
“Thought you were an art school graduate,not a psychologist,” Britt grumbled. Her friend didn’t move aninch. “Fine. New guy in school asked me for coffee and then noshowed. End of story.”
“Uh-huh. What else?”
“Nothing else.” Britt played with the hoopon her lip. “I’m stressed. Jenna friggin’ Woodruff is acting extraprivileged and pissy these days. Senior collection is next week.Work is … work. Gotta show up if I want money.” She blew out a longpuff of air. “I’m tired of being a perpetual student.” She hatednot measuring up in her family of solid, focused, hardworkingpeople. Also, she wanted to fulfill Mom’s dying wish that Brittgraduate.
Man, she missed her mom. And her dad andsisters. No time to visit, with the crazy end of the school year.Hopefully they could attend her senior show next week. What she’dgive for Mom and Brady to still be alive, to see what she’d done.Britt would give just about anything to hug them once more. Abubbly, sad hiccup hit her below the ribs. God, the past few yearshad sucked so badly.
