Burn by Sean Doolittle Read Free Book Online

morning.
    “But come on, ” he said. “This girl's like twenty-two, and she's stacked, like, bam. Cutest little flirt, right? I'm a human being. So we're on the lot, back of my van. I'm just getting my freak on, and I get a buzz on my pager.Great. So I climb out and use my cell. For like a minute.” He held his fingers an inch apart. “A
minute.”
    Long enough, apparently, for the girl to decide that when Kyle returned to the van, tying each other up might be fun. She'd rummaged around amongst his supplies until she'd found a spool of what she'd believed to be yellow rope. And a pair of bolt cutters.
    “I don't even know how she found the stuff, ” Kyle said for the third time. “I keep it in a reinforced trunk. Wrapped up in blast blankets.”
    Andrew didn't mean to laugh. “But she's okay?”
    “Sonja? Nothing a little vascular surgery couldn't fix, ” he said. “If the girl ever gets engaged, okay she's probably gonna wear the ring on her other hand. But I'd say she came through pretty lucky.”
    “Wow.”
    “Yeah. And now she's suing me. You believe that?”
    “Not so lucky for you, ” Andrew said.
    “Tell me about it. Here I sit. Supposed to meet the lawyers here for the deposition today.” He looked at his wrist, which still wore no watch, and shrugged. “Guess I'm early.”
    Andrew looked up at the big double doors closed on Lane's office at the end of the short track-lighted hallway opposite the waiting area. He decided that was his cue. He stuck out his hand.
    “Well, hey, ” he said, “good luck to you. Hope everything works out.”
    Kyle blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
    As Andrew strode past the desk on his way toward Lane's office, the receptionist sat up in her chair and took the phone away from her ear.
    “Sir? Mr. Borland is in a meeting. You need to wait … hey….”
    He used both hands, one on each knob, and left the big doors open behind him as he passed through.
    Lane sat behind a blond wood desk the size of a basketball court. When Andrew walked in, Lane's eyes snapped open, and he lurched forward. From beneath the desk there came a hollow thud, followed by a muffled yelp.
    “Jesus, take it easy, ” said a female voice.
    Lane plunged his hands beneath the desk, glared at Andrew, and said, “What the hell do you think you're doing? Margot!”
    Margot—the tall receptionist, Andrew surmised— had followed him into the office. When she saw Lane, her expression flared like a match. Her green eyes smoldered a moment before narrowing to predatory slits. She said: “You sorry son of a bitch.”
    By the time Andrew turned to agree, Margot had already disappeared in a swirl of citrus perfume.
    “Just a minute, ” Lane whispered to somebody, then hung on to his pants. His fancy black mesh office chair scooted back from the desk as though operating under its own power.
    Andrew heard a shifting, another thump, and a soft grunt as a petite young woman with copper-colored spiral curls appeared as if crawling from a cave. She kicked Lane once in the ankle as she smoothed a snug blue minidress over her bottom with one palm. Lane worked to fasten his belt as quickly as he could without standing up from the chair.
    Andrew folded his arms and observed the display without comment. The girl gave him a demure sideways glance as she corrected the corner of her lipstick with a fingernail. She had a tiny waist and slender hips and breasts like soccer balls. Andrew couldn't help but noticethe padded white club of gauze encasing the girl's left hand from fingertips to mid-forearm. An elaborate framework of pins and wires stood over the bandages like bionic scaffolding.
    “You must be Sonja, ” Andrew said.
    She smiled brightly. “That's right! Do we know each other?”
    “Nah. But I met your friend Kyle outside.”
    “Oh.”
    “He seems like a nice guy. Very regretful.”
    Lane said, “Sonja, could you excuse us?”
    “Excuse you where? I'm not sitting out there with that jerk.”
    “You can