Page 68 of Special Agent Murphy

Chapter Forty-one

She couldn’t breathe. Misti broke out of her safe place of foggy disfunction to a nightmare. The man was kissing her, mauling at her body, trying to get inside her clothes.

She yelped, then screamed, only there was little sound. Most of the alarm went off in her horrified mind.

She slapped at him, sobbed, begging him to stop. And when he did, at first, she couldn’t believe it. Dimly, she saw another man hauling his body off her, dragging him to the other room. That man’s words were rough, angry. “I told you to leave her alone. She’s a kid… a fucking kid.”

“Draper, I wasn’t hurting her.”

“You were warned.”

“What are you doing? No!”

The gunshot rang through the silence, and Misti flinched before she covered her ears, rolled in a fetal position and resumed crying, praying.

Not realizing at first, but eventually understanding that she hadn’t been given any drugs for long enough that the last fix was wearing off. Hunger clawed at her stomach. It took some time before the scent of the nearby food ate its way past her fear.

A hamburger. In a bag on the floor beside her bed. She reached for it. Ripped at it like an animal, gulping it down in case the man remembered and came back to take it away.

Only that wouldn’t happen now. She tried to block the reason why, but it seeped through her disbelief and eased its way into her memory. He couldn’t come back.

Her jailer had shot him.

***

“My ear! You bastard. It’s bleeding.”

“Quit bitching. You have any idea how close I came to saying screw it and shooting to kill? That’s a warning, asshole. I won’t give you another. Keep your hands off the merchandise.”

“Alright. Okay. When are we going to get this bullshit over with?”

“I got word from Russia. They said to call in the morning.”

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