American Vampire by Jennifer Armintrout Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Armintrout
you guys. I don’t want to be stuck in some podunk town forever. If I could redo last night, I wouldn’t have gotten all turned around in Cleveland. I damn sure wouldn’t have stopped here.”
“Well, you’re not here forever. You’re just here until you die.” Derek cracked his knuckles, probably imitating some mobster he’d seen in a movie. “You get my draft?”
“It’s drift, you moron.” Graf lay back down on the cot. At sundown, if Corn-fed was still hanging around with his stupid tough-guy act, Graf was going to drain him dry. At the very least, he would be doing Jessa a favor. If this was the kind of guy she really went for, it would probably be doing her a favor to kill her, too.
“What did you just call me?” Derek demanded, his voice dripping with unspent testosterone.
Graf didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I’m too tired to repeat it. Come back later.”
From the sound of Jessa’s feet shuffling on the dirt floor and the rapid-fire, “No, no, no!” she uttered, Graf knew Derek had lunged for him, and that most likely Jessa had held him back. Though it took considerable effort not to sit up and rip out the guy’s windpipe right then and there, Graf restrained himself. It would be better if he waited, until the sun went down and he had a place to hide the bodies.
“That son of a bitch has a big problem on his hands now, a big problem.” Derek swore, his voice accompanied by the creaking of the stairs.
When the door slammed, Graf sat up and pulled on his jeans. He cocked his head to listen to the muffled conversation upstairs.
“You can’t just go around punching people!” Jessa had a different angry voice with Derek than she’d had with Graf the night before. There was more frustration invested in it. That was interesting.
“There’s something weird about that guy, and I don’t like it!”
“It doesn’t matter if you like it! It’s not like he can leave!” There was a strained silence, and Graf imagined the two humans staring at each other, daring each other to try for the last word.
“And…go,” Graf prompted quietly.
On the heels of his words, Jessa spoke. “Look, I’ll take him over to June’s Place tonight, see if I can’t get someone else to put him up.”
Derek huffed in reply. “Yeah, well, you better take him over to Tom Stoke’s place, too. He’s going to want to know what’s happening, and you don’t want to get Tom pissed off. I might go over there, too, and let him know I’m not real keen on the notion of some guy staying out here with you, alone.”
“Oh, yeah, and what’s Tom going to do? Make me wear a big, red letter A on my chest?” She lowered her voice. “Besides, this guy isn’t dangerous. He’s just a prick.”
Graf couldn’t help but smile at that. They were so trusting sometimes. His smile died when she followed up her statement with, “He seems kind of like the whiny type. Not real intimidating.”
“Don’t make me worry about you,” Derek warned, and the implication went beyond fearing for her safety. And…confirmation. Graf had figured there was something going on between the two of them. So, he was a jealous boyfriend? Where the hell had he been when his girl was running from—and being rescued by—monsters?
When Jessa spoke again, her tone was hard and cold. “You should be getting back on home to your wife, shouldn’t you?”
That was interesting. Very interesting. Better thanthe soap operas Sophia had forced him to watch with her.
Derek swore, and the floorboards overhead creaked as he stomped across them. The outside door slammed.
Graf expected to hear Jessa crying—the spurned lover, the other woman, reduced to tears by the man she couldn’t give up. Instead, all he heard was an exasperated sigh, then footsteps through the kitchen.
If it hadn’t been so damned sunny out, he would have gone upstairs and shown her exactly how non-intimidating he was. Knowing the way the place was decorated, there were
“Well, you’re not here forever. You’re just here until you die.” Derek cracked his knuckles, probably imitating some mobster he’d seen in a movie. “You get my draft?”
“It’s drift, you moron.” Graf lay back down on the cot. At sundown, if Corn-fed was still hanging around with his stupid tough-guy act, Graf was going to drain him dry. At the very least, he would be doing Jessa a favor. If this was the kind of guy she really went for, it would probably be doing her a favor to kill her, too.
“What did you just call me?” Derek demanded, his voice dripping with unspent testosterone.
Graf didn’t bother to open his eyes. “I’m too tired to repeat it. Come back later.”
From the sound of Jessa’s feet shuffling on the dirt floor and the rapid-fire, “No, no, no!” she uttered, Graf knew Derek had lunged for him, and that most likely Jessa had held him back. Though it took considerable effort not to sit up and rip out the guy’s windpipe right then and there, Graf restrained himself. It would be better if he waited, until the sun went down and he had a place to hide the bodies.
“That son of a bitch has a big problem on his hands now, a big problem.” Derek swore, his voice accompanied by the creaking of the stairs.
When the door slammed, Graf sat up and pulled on his jeans. He cocked his head to listen to the muffled conversation upstairs.
“You can’t just go around punching people!” Jessa had a different angry voice with Derek than she’d had with Graf the night before. There was more frustration invested in it. That was interesting.
“There’s something weird about that guy, and I don’t like it!”
“It doesn’t matter if you like it! It’s not like he can leave!” There was a strained silence, and Graf imagined the two humans staring at each other, daring each other to try for the last word.
“And…go,” Graf prompted quietly.
On the heels of his words, Jessa spoke. “Look, I’ll take him over to June’s Place tonight, see if I can’t get someone else to put him up.”
Derek huffed in reply. “Yeah, well, you better take him over to Tom Stoke’s place, too. He’s going to want to know what’s happening, and you don’t want to get Tom pissed off. I might go over there, too, and let him know I’m not real keen on the notion of some guy staying out here with you, alone.”
“Oh, yeah, and what’s Tom going to do? Make me wear a big, red letter A on my chest?” She lowered her voice. “Besides, this guy isn’t dangerous. He’s just a prick.”
Graf couldn’t help but smile at that. They were so trusting sometimes. His smile died when she followed up her statement with, “He seems kind of like the whiny type. Not real intimidating.”
“Don’t make me worry about you,” Derek warned, and the implication went beyond fearing for her safety. And…confirmation. Graf had figured there was something going on between the two of them. So, he was a jealous boyfriend? Where the hell had he been when his girl was running from—and being rescued by—monsters?
When Jessa spoke again, her tone was hard and cold. “You should be getting back on home to your wife, shouldn’t you?”
That was interesting. Very interesting. Better thanthe soap operas Sophia had forced him to watch with her.
Derek swore, and the floorboards overhead creaked as he stomped across them. The outside door slammed.
Graf expected to hear Jessa crying—the spurned lover, the other woman, reduced to tears by the man she couldn’t give up. Instead, all he heard was an exasperated sigh, then footsteps through the kitchen.
If it hadn’t been so damned sunny out, he would have gone upstairs and shown her exactly how non-intimidating he was. Knowing the way the place was decorated, there were