Blank Slate by Tiffany Snow Read Free Book Online

the bigger of the two men said with a smirk.
He had a thick accent. Russian? “Though you are more resourceful than Solomon
thought, it seemed. He is not pleased with you.”
    Clarissa’s
mind scrambled furiously, searching her memory for a clue as to who these men
were and coming up empty.
    “What
do you want?” she asked.
    “It’s
what Solomon wants that you have to worry about,” the smaller guy said. He
smiled. He was missing a tooth.
    “Fine.
What does he want?”
    “What
you owe him, stole from him.”
    “I
didn’t steal anything,” Clarissa protested, playing for time. She eyed their
guns. Langston had no idea they were here. If he appeared suddenly, unarmed,
they’d shoot first and ask questions later. She couldn’t let that happen.
    “I
am sure he will be able to explain it fully to you himself. You are coming with
us.”
    “Like
hell she is.”
    Both
men turned at the sound of Langston’s voice. Dammit! If he’d only waited a few
more minutes! Her hand grabbed the only weapon available to her and swung.
    Erik
saw O’Connell land a wicked hit with the metal pot he’d warned her about,
causing one of the intruders to drop his gun. They grappled, O’Connell getting
in another hit with the pan before he retaliated, and then they were on the
floor, struggling.
    The
other man decided Erik posed more of threat, and a spray of bullets came his
way. Erik dived to the floor in front of the sofa, tipping it backward and
propping his gun on the edge to take quick aim. His gun spit bullets, and the
intruder dropped to the ground, lifeless.
    O’Connell
and the guy were still fighting. He threw her off and went for the gun that had
skittered across the floor. Dammit! The bastard was going to shoot her. Erik leaped
to his feet, but before he could get off a shot, O’Connell had grabbed the gun
off the man he’d killed and turned, firing just in time.
    It
had happened so fast, and now two men lay dead on the kitchen floor.
    O’Connell
sat motionless, her chest heaving, staring at the men with wide eyes. Even from
this distance, her hands trembled. Erik hurried toward her, only to be stopped
in his tracks when the barrel of her gun swung his way.
    “Don’t
come any closer,” she warned.
    Erik
eyed the gun, then her. “So that’s how you’re going to play this?” he asked
evenly. Something close to disappointment churned in his gut.
    “I
don’t want to go to jail.” Her voice was steady, but her hands were not.
    “Then
you’re going to have to shoot me.”
    Her
mouth was bleeding. The guy must have gotten a hit or two in before she’d shot
him. Erik took another step forward.
    “Stop!”
she demanded. “I’ll do it. I swear I will!”
    Erik
slowly holstered his gun. “You’d shoot an unarmed cop?”
    She
didn’t answer, just watched him warily.
    She
might very well do just that, but Erik was betting she wouldn’t. O’Connell
could have killed him this morning while he slept, but she hadn’t. He took
another step, and another, then held his breath as her hands tightened on the
weapon.
    “You’re
not going to shoot me,” he said with more conviction than he felt. “You know
you’re not. If you’d wanted me dead, you would have let them kill me.” He took
a step.
    A
gunshot shattered the quiet. Erik flinched as shards of wood from the bullet
tearing a hole in the floor hit his jeans. He froze.
    “I
think you underestimate how much I don’t want to go to prison,” O’Connell said
evenly, and now her hands were steady. “Get on your knees. Keep your hands up.”
    Clarissa’s
palms grew sweaty as Langston slowly complied, his eyes like twin shards of
ice. Getting to her feet, she watched him closely, not putting it past him to
make a move for his gun. She regretted having to do this, but it might be her
only chance of escape. The men had to have gotten here somehow. She could take
their car and leave Langston his.
    Please
don’t let him try anything, she prayed, knowing she